Middle-aged rebel

Today I did something that, when I was younger, I swore I would never do; I got a tattoo. Go me!

It's a very simple one - a yin-yang symbol, on the inside of my right wrist, in a place that can be hidden by a long-sleeved top. For work, you see.

I have been thinking about this for some time now, and then I had a dream, in which I had this tattoo, so I realised the dream. I do have a leaning towards the philosophy of the Tao Te Ching, so having a permanent symbol I could look at easily made sense to me. I can now glance at my wrist and be reminded of the importance of balance in my life - an opportunity for a brief re-focus or a moment of meditation

The tattoo of this symbol is also, well, mostly, in remembrance of my Mum, who passed away 2 years, 5 months and 13 days ago (yes, I'm still counting). Those who know me, and who knew my Mum, would say: surely a Welsh/Celtic symbol of a some kind would be the thing to go with? Well, yes, however this tattoo reminds me of a holiday we had in Brussels, some 16 years ago now. We were wandering around and found ourselves outside what must have been a fairly upmarket jewellers. In a prominent place in their window was a yin-yang, made of the most stunning glass. One side was obsidian black, with a clear dot and the other was the reverse. Both the clear and black glass were very nearly perfect. The thing must have been 4" tall and around 8-10" diameter. We stared at that piece for ages; we were speechless in the face of its beauty. It was a shared moment, too, both delighting in the same thing. Now, a treasured memory,