Pilgrimage
“And I will walk five hundred miles and I will walk five hundred more…”
I think we all know the song.
I didn’t walk five hundred miles. I drove them. But I did go five hundred miles in one day to become who ‘I’m gonna be’.
On a random Wednesday. A Wednesday that would be any other Wednesday to anyone else but me, I woke up in the wee hours, and drove.
Across the Great State of Texas, four hours, two hundred and twenty five miles. You’d think I was doing this to go see something amazing. If this was a pilgrimage surely it was going somewhere sacred. A holy site. A shrine. A national heritage site. A national park. Something. But no after driving from Austin through the winding roads leading to East Texas, I arrived to a nondescript, half-empty, no-different-than-any-other-strip-mall-in-America, strip mall in Lufkin.
But hidden away in this unlikely place is something better than a holy site, a shrine, a national heritage site, or a national park. Hidden away here is an enclave dedicated to art, women’s art, collaboration, women’s strength and resilience, women’s creativity, women’s entrepreneurship, and tattoos. A place where you can show up as who you are, not hiding and tucking away unacceptable pieces of yourself. A place where all of you is welcome. A place that feels like sanctuary. Oasis. A safe enclave from the tempest of this Earth. A place I feel safe.
I walked up to the black framed double glass doors and there in beautiful golden letters - The Apothecary Tattoo.
This place on this day.
Why here and why now?
This Wednesday, this any other Wednesday, was in fact the two year anniversary of the day I almost died in a car wreck. The doctors told me it would take two years to recover if I did everything I was supposed to, followed doctor’s orders, and dedicated myself to healing. And here I am two years out, two years of fighting for my health, my sanity, my insurance to cover my bills. Two years of navigating a system that isn’t conducive to an ill person navigating it. Two years of learning to manage chronic pain and how to relieve it. Two years of learning how PTSD affects the mind. Two years of fighting for myself and my quality of life. Two years and I am returning back to myself. Two years, I am forever changed. No longer the person who got into the car that day. But here. Alive. My health returning to me. Two years.
I knew I needed to mark the occasion. Quite literally. I needed to leave a mark. I needed to be marked.
If you were to look at me you wouldn’t know all I’ve been through and you wouldn’t know what I survived. I needed to put marks on my body that say: see, here, something happened, I am no longer the me that I was, I am forever changed, and I am alive.
I knew the women at the Apothecary Tattoo would treat this occasion with the sacredness it earned and deserved. Being tattooed in this shop by these women surrounded by the community they created was a safe and intimate space. We all shared what we had survived. We shared our grief. We shared our aliveness. We shared our Sacred Rage. As the tattoo needle transformed me, we all were transformed in the exchange of energy, in the intimacy, in the power.
That small one room shop in a half empty strip mall is an alchemist’s chamber.
I got to spend five hours in the shop that day receiving tattoos from two of the owners - Marki Flowers and Katie Meadows. They etched into my skin the changes the world had reaped upon me.
I needed my outsides to match my insides.
And now they do.
They invited all of me into the shop that day and celebrated me.
They asked to see the books I wrote and were so damn proud of what I created. Their praise heaped over what I created made me glow. “They’re beautiful, Sarah.” And then their exclamations to each other, “Did you see the prompts? Did you see the privilege statement?”
They asked about my pricing, and told me to increase it. They told me I am worth more, my work is worth more. This was a full circle moment. Years before this I had told Marki to raise her prices because she was worth more. Now she was telling me.
Not only did they ask to see the books, but they invited me to sell my books in the consignment area they have curated with the work of entrepreneurs.
One of the things that I am most passionate about in this life is uplifting women. I choose female owned businesses and female professionals almost always as much as I can. I hype up women. I lift up women. I focus on reading women authors. I find ways to support my new mama friends. I support women in any way I can. I want every woman in this world to feel safe, to feel empowered, and to wake up to a life she loves. It is my calling, my passion. It is what I spend all day every day working towards.
On that Wednesday in that shop I got to be on the receiving end of what I put out into the world. I got to receive being uplifted by women and being empowered.
That day in that shop was the antidote to the same day two years prior.
It was the antidote to the frustrating tempest of this Earth.
Friends looked at the pictures of me in the shop and told me I was glowing. I was glowing because of the glow these women in this shop bestowed upon me.
I was glowing because I was the most me I had ever been.
It was everything.
I cannot wait to go back.
“Go where you are celebrated, not merely tolerated.”
