In my last post, I wrote about patience—the time it takes to let things unfold, the discipline to trust progress even when it’s slow. Today’s theme is acceptance, and this one hits close to home. Acceptance isn’t about giving up. It’s about acknowledging what is—and allowing ourselves to move forward from there. Sometimes it means accepting the things we can’t control. Other times, it’s accepting who we’re becoming. And sometimes the best way to take control of this is through art or capturing it in a tattoo.
The Inktober prompt for today was “starfish.” I decided to have some fun with it—drawing a pair of cartoon ninjas, one black and one white, throwing a ninja starfish. Instead of a regular star, the weapon was shaped like two koi fish intertwined in a yin-yang pattern, their fins forming the sharp edges.
It’s a playful image, but it carries a lot of meaning. The two koi represent balance—the constant movement between opposing forces that defines growth. Light and dark, strength and vulnerability, discipline and freedom.
Acceptance is about finding peace in that balance, not trying to erase one side or the other. That balance has been on my mind a lot lately. I’ve had to come to terms with the fact that when I retire, I’ll no longer be an Army officer. That title has been part of my identity for so long that my nephews and grandkids call me “Army John.” It’s been who I am for decades.
But soon, I’ll simply be John.
At first, that felt like a loss. The Army gave me structure, purpose, and direction. But now, I’m realizing that acceptance opens up something new. Without the rank or the uniform, I have room to rediscover the artist I’ve always been underneath it all. The side that finds meaning in symbols, stories, and the craft of tattooing.
Acceptance isn’t the end of an identity—it’s the evolution of one. Just like a healed tattoo looks different from when it’s fresh, we change with time. The lines soften, the colors settle, and the meaning deepens. The mark is still there—but it’s more real now.
That’s what I want to bring into Honor and Ink. Every person who walks through the door carries their own mix of light and shadow, pride and pain. Through art, we can accept all of it—the full story—and make something lasting out of it.
Next time, I’ll be writing about resilience—because once you’ve learned to accept who you are and where you’ve been, the real strength is in what you do next.