“If each moment is our entire life, how dare we kill time? If each stroke is our entire breath, how dare we correct it?”

- Kazuaki Tanahashi (Japanese Calligrapher and Zen Teacher)

Tattoo or Not to Tattoo

I have been considering getting a tattoo lately, something I’ve half-heartedly thought about for years. I never have because I'm a bit of a wimp, but it's mainly indecisiveness that's stopped me from taking the plunge. Whatever image, word or shape I choose, I’d like it to hold personal significance. So that when I glance at it, it would evoke an emotion, memory or association. Or maybe it could simply be visually appealing. The question is, what would I choose?

Speaking of choosing an image, I have been particularly drawn to one. You may have seen a motif on the header of my website or the weekly email that appears like a ‘C’ for Chang but is actually an ensō circle upon closer inspection. The ensō’s beauty lies in its apparent simplicity yet complexity, with a single fluid stroke on paper that is imbued with meaning.

Ensō Circle

The ensō Circle is a symbol associated with Zen Buddhism and has various meanings depending on how it is interpreted. It is often referred to as the “Circle of Enlightenment.” The circle represents different concepts depending on whether it is open or closed.

A closed circle can symbolise completeness, continuity, satisfaction, or emptiness. In Buddhism, emptiness refers to a state of perfection and liberation. An incomplete circle can represent impermanence, imperfection, and cycles of beginning and ending. The ensō can also be seen as the void of the universe - nothing or everything - or both.

Here is a further description from Wikipedia:

“This spiritual practice of drawing ensō or writing Japanese calligraphy for self-realisation is called hitsuzendō. Ensō exemplifies the various dimensions of the Japanese wabi-sabi (the beauty of imperfection): fukinsei (asymmetry, irregularity), kanso (simplicity), koko (basic; weathered), shizen (without pretence; natural), yugen (subtly profound grace), datsuzoku (freedom), and seijaku (tranquillity).”

The final product, though often pleasing to look at, matters less than the process of producing it. I read somewhere that ensō cannot be explained, only experienced. This is not art but a form of mindfulness that involves clearing the mind and becoming fully present. The master calligrapher acts as a conduit, striving to empty their mind and then draw the ensō in one uninterrupted stroke with pure focus and awareness. Once created, it is not altered. Once the moment passes, she lets go. The calligrapher may create another ensō anew as a form of daily meditation practice the following day.

Gazing at an ensō circle, you can almost feel the movement of the brush and the presence of the maker. Each unique, like a fingerprint, marks the character of a moment in time and a flow of energy. It’s not necessary to judge the ensō based on its beauty, symmetry or technical accuracy, as these things are not important. There is no post-production editing, correcting or filtering - it simply exists. Every attempt and iteration is imperfectly perfect because the moment which birthed it was and is perfect.

Back to the Drawing Board

The ensō is a symbol that embodies the paradoxical nature of simplicity and profoundness. It results from spiritual practice that requires unwavering focus and the ability to let go completely. This combination is so familiar to those of us who practise yoga.

Symbols, like words, evoke meaning and emotions, as this Zen circle does for me.

If I ever go ahead and finally get a tattoo, might it be an ensō?! The problem is that the ensō couldn’t be created in one stroke on the skin - I’m sure it would take many breaths and jabs of the needle. Moreover, once captured on flesh, its solid permanence would somehow bother me and take away something of its beauty - the imperfection and impermanence of the moment of its creation.

So, no tattoo yet for me. Back to the drawing board.

Let’s practise.