Photo: Thomas Iser, painted in black with golden chips to represent his body repaired according to the Kintsugi method. (Courchevel, France). 

In my last post, a water-bearer was carrying two pots and finds a beautiful use for the flawed one. The story presents a great lesson for those of us who feel somewhat flawed and may need to hear there's a purpose for our own imperfect and broken pieces. As Leonard Cohen wrote in his prose song Anthem: 

Forget your perfect offering

There is a crack, a crack in everything

That’s how the light gets in.

I would add that it is not only how the light gets in, but also how the light gets out. It is in our vulnerability to those around us that sometimes we find our deepest connections. Even when our wounds heal, we can find ways to let our scars shine for others.

Photo: by Hagee Ministries (San Antonio, Texas).

In Japanese culture, there is an ancient practice of repairing broken items called Kintsugi.  The practice focuses on filling cracks in broken pottery with a bonding agent of gold or other precious metal. Kintsugi celebrates something's unique history by emphasizing its fractures instead of hiding or disguising them.  

Photo: Vaneetha Risner.

In contrast to Western philosophy which often strives for perfection, Kintsugi acknowledges brokenness, and finds a way to make things whole and beautiful without ignoring the cracks. Those cracks, in fact, are what make the items beautiful and unique.

"Kintsugi reminds us that being broken and mended is part of the human condition. It shows us a way to carry our grief, love, and loss forward with us in emotionally healthy ways. We never leave our brokenness behind and we may not be the same bowl once we’re mended, but our brokenness becomes part of our story and our beauty." - Brent Thomas, Holiday at the Sea.

Photo: Waterfall Gallery (New York, New York).

In the old days, when someone brought a broken jar or bowl to a Kintsugi master, they would spread the pieces out on a blanket and sit in front of them. They would pick up the broken pieces, trace their edges, and begin imagining what the finished piece would look like once mended. They contemplated how the brokenness could become part of a new and beautiful story without forgetting its past.

Photo: Stefano Carnazzi , Lifegate.

I'm not saying the the flawed pot in the story should have its cracks filled in, I'm just suggesting it could have been done in a way that honored the pot's intention and purpose while still being made whole in a new and beautiful way.

“I do not understand the mystery of grace -- only that it meets us where we are and does not leave us where it found us.” ― Anne Lamott.