Kintsugi is a style of Japanese pottery. First, the artist molds the clay carefully to form the plate, teapot, or bowl. Once it is completed, it is slammed it on the table and shattered. The result of hours of work is now in hundreds of pieces. Then begins the process of putting it back together, piece by piece, using gold solder. The pottery may not look how it did in the moments before it was broken, but it has been transformed and even enhanced through destruction and then recreation. Kintsugi looks at the state of something being broken, not as an end but just as part of the object’s history.
“Not only is there no attempt to hide the damage, but the repair is literally illuminated… a kind of physical expression of the spirit of mushin….Mushin is often literally translated as “no mind,” but carries connotations of fully existing within the moment, of non-attachment, of equanimity amid changing conditions. …The vicissitudes of existence over time, to which all humans are susceptible, could not be clearer than in the breaks, the knocks, and the shattering to which ceramic ware too is subject. This poignancy or aesthetic of existence has been known in Japan as mono no aware, a compassionate sensitivity, or perhaps identification with, [things] outside oneself.”
— Christy Bartlett, Flickwerk: The Aesthetics of Mended Japanese Ceramics
Today, I put together a ceiling fan. It was not as glamorous as gold- filled pottery. I work as a manager at a Habitat for Humanity Restore so activities like this are typical for me. Donors bring the store gently-used items every day. That is how we are able to build homes for families in need. Occasionally, we receive donations that, apart from one glaring flaw, are beautiful pieces. Today was no exception. I was given a box of fan blades, housings, and other random pieces that just needed to be put together. There were no instructions. Truthfully, there weren’t even enough of the right pieces.
So I made my own instructions. I found pieces. I made it work because the alternative was something of value being tossed in a landfill.
Not to speak ill, but this donor didn’t want to do that. They must have said something to the tune of “Oh, it’s broken? I’ll just replace it. It’s practically cheaper to get a new one.” That all too familiar sentiment led to this item, and so many other items, being in my hands. It would have been just as easy for me to have thrown this fan in the dumpster but easy is rarely best.
If your car falls apart or your toilet starts leaking, what are you going to do? If you don’t know the answer, I can promise you that few of us do. Actually, I still don’t know how to fix a toilet. Knowledge and handiness aren’t traits that we are born with. As a matter of fact, I didn’t know most of my “manly” skills till I was at least 22. Even at that age, I didn’t have someone to show me. All I had were problems and resourcefulness. Look on YouTube. There are enough resources at your disposal on YouTube to do anything. You have the ability to make anything work. Develop your problem solving, awareness, and fix something.
What if we applied this attitude to our relationships in life? Because fixing drywall is easy; fixing a marriage is hard. Fixing a relationship with your parents is hard. Be the person who is willing to roll up your sleeves, get dirty, and commit to making something work. Because just like the pieces of Kintsugi, those relationships can be so much more beautiful when they are reassembled. Would you say that same sentence about your marriage? “Oh, it’s broken? I’ll just replace it. It’s practically cheaper to get a new one.” There’s not going to be any instructions. There won’t be enough of the right pieces. There will be you and a broken thing in front of you. Are you going to be the person to fix it? Because maybe this broken thing is not at its end, but just part of its history.