Kintsugi
Have you ever broken a dish? Like total butter fingers dropped it on the counter or floor and it shattered? I think we’ve all experienced something like that. You let out a curse word and go to get the broom while you sweep up the pieces. If you’re like me, most of the time those pieces end up in the trash.
Or, related, how many of us a drawer full of wrinkle serums? Scar remedies? Stretch mark cream? Now, I’m not knocking you. I, too, have a reaction when I see a gray hair. There are literally INDUSTRIES built off of hiding our “imperfections”. But, alas, this is not a blog on the pitfalls of consumerism (yet). I have continued to notice this more and more and recently, I learned about the Japanese art of Kintsugi.
Kintsugi is the Japanese art of repairing broken pottery by mending the broken areas together with a gold-lacquer. In English, it translates to “golden joinery”. The philosophy of Kintsugi is that breakage is a part of the history of an object. Repair of something should be shown as part of the story, rather than hidden. It is about embracing the imperfections and flaws and celebrating an even stronger, beautiful piece of art. Not only is it an art form, it is metaphorical.
Candice Kumai, who wrote Kintsugi Wellness: The Japanese Art of Nourishing Mind, Body, and Spirit shared in an article with NBC, “It occured to me that people needed metaphors and objects to understand the art of healing. Kintsugi reveals how you heal and shows you that you are better with your golden cracks.”
Grief makes cracks in the pottery. It changes us. Whether we’ve lost a person, gone through a divorce, lost a job, or ended a friendship, these are little “knicks” to our ceramic exterior. They also make us who we are. Of course, if we had a choice never to go through a hard thing ever again, I’m sure most of us would jump at that opportunity. And there are certainly moments in grief where you absolutely CANNOT see the “golden” side. This practice of Kintsugi more reminds us that nothing is perfect, and even has we break, we can reshape and still be beautiful. Our scars and cracks are beautiful. Where we’ve been is beautiful.
I truly believe that authenticity and vulnerability are part of that beauty. What if we all wore our scars more visibly? What if, instead of hiding our wounds, we celebrated how they’ve changed us? Now, I get that this has the risk of coming across as “everything happens for a reason” and “what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.” And, while some of those notions may be good, when you’re in the middle of a shit storm, you aren’t about to throw a party and celebrate. In the middle of a divorce, or if you’ve miscarried, you’re not going to stop and say “Gee, let me celebrate what this has done to me.” You’re going to be sad, mad, angry, embarassed, anxious and everything in between. My point, though, is if we wear our vulerability a little more visibly, it might allow us to be softer and kinder to each other.
I guess my reflection on Kintsugi is that there is no perfect. And, if you’ve been to this blog before, you’ve heard me talk about the fact that perfection is a fallacy. How beautiful for a peace of art to reflect this in a raw form. I’m a sucker for symbolism and metaphors. I hope, after reading this, you think of whatever scars you have and look at them with a little more softness and maybe, just a little pride. Because damn it, YOU MADE IT, YOU’RE HERE.
