I got my fourth tattoo this weekend. It was my largest (size of a face), longest (two hours), most complexly designed (lots of little lines running over differently sized curves), and most intense (on ribs and touching hips).
Getting a tattoo is so meditative, despite its intensity (and I don't call the feeling pain - it doesn't operate on me the way that pain does). I kept very still, didn't clench my toes or fists, and barely had any muscle spasms (something that did happen with my first hip tattoo). I breathed into any discomfort, and tried to still my thoughts. I imagined my body moving up to the needle instead of it moving down into me - when I mentioned it, my artist concurred that that really works. I turned on my yoga teaching mindset and thought about which bandhas I was engaging. I traced the sensations like a map across my hip and rips, trying to determine where it felt better (I think my back ribs felt best, with hip and front ribs coming in as more intense). I also noticed the times when I was wrong about where the needle actually was. I bathed in the buzz and the smell of the ink.
I didn't think twice about wandering through the shop with my shirt hiked up (which, to be fair, I don't think twice about in kickboxing, either). I walked barefoot (same). What I said, when the artist and my friend asked about how I felt, was that I was okay. And I was. When it got tough, that moment ended, often replaced by a good moment. Sometimes just letting my gaze unravel its focus was helpful. Sometimes I curled one set of toes. I though about my mom, my ex-boyfriends, my friends, my cat, my homework. I got Writing Ideas. I thought about all the things the tat and I would experience together. I took in as much of the experience as I could, and when I left, I felt a high like the one I got after my first (fifteen minute) tat.
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