Have you ever seen the Japanese art of kintsugi? Cracked pottery is repaired with gold, silver, or platinum-dusted lacquer. Whether deliberately or accidentally broken, the ceramic is not discarded, nor are the blemishes disguised. Like the related art of wabi-sabi, where the flaws and imperfections are left untreated and considered part of the beauty, kintsugi treats “breakage and repair as part of the history of an object”[ref] The pottery is not thrown out for its flaws; it is celebrated for its journey. In making the cracks more visible, the ceramic is thus made more beautiful.
Naoko Fukumaru, Bowels of The Earth — Water, 2020
What if I could approach myself, and we could approach our world, relationships, movements, etc., with this ability to bring gold towards the brokenness? To not shy away from it, and instead to illuminate it further?
For me, kintsugi can serve as a metaphor for healing communities and as a beautiful healing balm for the divisive perfectionism of our times. It’s not about ‘fixing’ or ‘discarding’ what’s wrong — it’s more about seeing the brokenness in the wholeness and the wholeness in the brokenness.
Many years ago, I flipped the script on my own understanding of systems change, and stopped seeing the political/economic/educational/etc. systems as broken, and started seeing them as working — just operating with means and ends that led to separation, destruction, and violence, rather than to connection, justice, beauty, and love. In other words, I began unlearning my approach to systems as something to fix or fight or flee, and instead started learning to connect with them in healing ways.
In YES! Jam language, I would say that I see the system mostly operating in panic zone, rather than in stretch zone, and therefore utilizing processes and creating results that are exacerbating more panic, pain and loss of connection. [I elaborate on this in my previous article “Healing People Are Healing People”.]
What this script-flip offers me, fundamentally, is hope, energy and multiple paths forward. I am reminded that coming out of panic zone is possible, with support. And that from the stretch zone, I can see new possibilities, become creative, connect profoundly to myself, others, and Earth, and recognize my wholeness again. This is possible for individuals, for communities, for organizations and movements, and it is possible for systems. Flipping the script, seeing brokenness as something to honor and make visible, fills the cracks with gold and can restore and re-story them to wholeness again.
I remember, once at an Anatolia Leadership Jam many years ago, being in a circle and watching this alchemy happen. It was the third day, and we were in a large circle outside in a field. We had just played Common Ground, a powerful activity in which one person steps into the circle and shares an experience or feeling that is true for them. Whoever also shares that feeling steps in (or dips a toe if it feels partially true), while the others make space and bear witness. Ayla* shared about being abused as a child and began to cry. As a facilitator, I invited the group to breathe and pause and practice making space for Ayla. We sat down together, and she shared more about the abuse from her father and his eventual suicide, and all the pain she and her family had suffered. She cried and couldn’t look at anyone as she shared. One of my co-facilitators went to sit with her, and I supported the group to slow down and breathe, because there was nothing to fix or change, only to be present with her.
A few moments later, I invited Ayla to look around the circle and see what was there for her. Ayla bravely looked up and started to make her way around, naming what she saw — “Compassion. Love. Care. Understanding.” And then she arrived at one person who was looking down. Rather than bypass her and continue with the rest of the circle who was very present with her, Ayla paused and asked her, “Why are you not looking at me? Are you judging me?” And the other participant came out of her reverie and replied, “No, not at all. I just got lost in my own story for a moment. And I am thinking how brave you are, and how hearing you is healing for me and making me braver too. I hope one day I will be as courageous as you and share my story.” Ayla heard her and felt compassion for her, and began to see that sharing her challenges didn’t make her broken as a person, but rather more human and more whole. She saw people loving her, not in spite of her wounds, but because she had the courage to share them and to receive love in return. She saw her wholeness reflected in the eyes of the community.
In YES! Jams, we often refer to the collective power of ‘building the container’. The container is formed through an interplay of mindsets, skillsets and structures, such as: making an invitation and accepting the invitation; grounding in our bodies, breath and the lands we are on; recognizing each person as a generative being in the room; practicing shared agreements; acknowledging our personal and collective intentions; listening and speaking from our hearts about all that matters to us; playing joyfully and grieving honestly; and so on. These processes spiral in cycles, for the more robust the container, the deeper and wider the healing and transformation.
There's also a container inside each one of us – the space that we are making in ourselves for our values, our truths, our struggles, our passions. When you and I illuminate the cracks inside of us, personally and collectively, when they are witnessed and with-nessed by an intentional community, they become fused with gold. That is our light – and it makes each one of us more beautiful. When shared, our honest vulnerability lets us become more whole together. Our brokenness lights the way to our wholeness.
Accepting my own brokenness can feel difficult at moments, especially when I want to ‘have it together’, be strong and independent. Yet, the truth is, the world breaks me and my heart over and over again. Whenever I let in the pain and suffering, all of its infinite realities and dimensions, I crack and fall apart. And then, in my panic, I want to blame and hide and avoid. I desire to separate, to see myself as ‘not like those people’. While these reactions are so understandable, they also contribute to more pain and suffering — for myself and others. Could I slow down to see what is underneath, what am I serving with this separation? Could I then shift and reveal my brokenness instead? Could I fortify my inner and outer container with community, where I and we can stretch together and illuminate our cracks, so that we move towards healing and wholeness?
I am reminded of the Leonard Cohen song inspired by Hafiz.
Forget your perfect offering.
Just ring the bell that you can ring.
There is a crack in everything.
That’s how the light gets in.
If I judge myself or others, or even the systems I live in, for my/their/its brokenness, I end up filling the cracks with slime - messy, smelly, and very insecure. I can also do this by making up stories about myself or others, freezing the moment, giving advice and/or trying to change what is not in my control to change. Then, the container weakens. Then, the inner critic takes over and blocks the healing and learning. Then, the breakdown grows, which only further widens the cracks and expands the goo.
Unfortunately, there are a lot of slimy containers around in our world, where there is no invitation to share and no capacity to listen, which makes it very hard to express our vulnerability and move towards wholeness again. And, at the same time, we are certainly feeling the cracks all around us, environmentally, socially, politically, economically. We are hurting, so we could easily and unconsciously expand this hurt, especially if we persist in being unaware of and/or investing in these slimy containers.
Another option is to co-generate kintsugi, by sharing the history of our brokenness, making it visible, and filling it with the gold healing of conscious community. We could learn vital practices of co-being, turn towards each other and break open, and in the process, co-create worlds that reflect the wholeness of everyone. For what is justice, if not the well-being of all beings? And what is leadership, if not the nurturing of healing? In our systems and organizations, with our families and friends, and in each of our own beings, we can illuminate the cracks in ourselves with courage and spaciousness, and light the way forward to a more whole future together.
I would love to hear your own story of kintsugi if you are willing to share in the comments. And also any questions or struggles you are working with, to which I may support with some reflection. Thank you!
*Name changed to protect confidentiality.