Years ago, a friend asked me to go with her to get her first tattoo—and then dared me to get one too. I'd vowed that I would never get a tattoo. But apparently my resistance to tattoos was weaker than my resistance to passing up a friendly challenge. After looking at hundreds of images, I kept coming back to a small, imperfect circle called an enso. I knew almost nothing about what it represented. I certainly didn't know that it would eventually become connected, for me, with