Are We Even More Precious as Broken and Mended?

Are we? Am I? Are you? Are we even more precious because of the wounds, the cracks, the riffs we have in our hearts that we have worked on for years, much alike the ceramic pieces which have gone through Kintsugi? Are we even more beautiful because we are broken and we did not divert ourselves away from those cracks through the most celebrated addiction of our times, "busy-ness"? Or for that matter dissociated to the extent that parts of us became unreachable along with those cracks? Can we claim higher value than a human who was never broken or for that matter never looked at their broken parts and worked on them? But even before we go there, do we, ourselves consider us exquisite pieces of higher value or are we constantly shaming ourselves about our brokenness and our healing journeys much like the pieces recreated through Kintsugi? 

It is popularly believed that Kintsugi or Kinsukuroi came into existence around the 15th Century when a Shogun (hereditary military leaders appointed as military head by the emperor but in reality they were even more powerful than the emperors) from Japan sent back his exquisite tea set to China for repair. Chanoyu or the Japanese tea ceremony was incomplete without a beautiful tea-set from China.  He, unfortunately got it back with ugly metal staples and the Shogun therefore asked the zen master craftspeople of Japan to find a better way. Japanese Zen masters then thought of Kintsugi. In this a precious metal such as gold is used along with lacquer to put broken pieces of ceramics together. The result was a beautiful piece of crockery that told its own story. Openly. Without any shame! And Japanese culture embraced it and they were valued even more than an unbroken piece. Circa 2023, Kintsugi art pieces are coveted world over. Oh by the way, although the Shogun did not approve it, the stapled art is loved too! They are used in Greece, China, as well as in Russia. I therefore can not totally attribute Kintsugi's popularity to the  Japanese tradition of wabi-sabi, which is embracing of the flawed or the imperfect. It almost seems like a celebration of the wounded! Call it Raqs e bismil; the dance of the wounded....

As I was pondering on broken and mended being even more beautiful, I thought of us. We, who feel we are broken. We, who have been working on those broken pieces but find the healing painfully slow. We, who work on the healing for months even years along with all our work commitments, our relationship commitments, our commitment to life and living. We, who learn to notice our reactions so that we react less and respond more. We, who work on our empathy even more as we did not have the empathetic ones around when we needed them. We, who learn to say, "It's okay. You are on the right track! It takes time. Do you want a hug?" to other co-workers as we so want to hear these ourselves. We, who do that hard work at the temperature of 1,064 C  inside our hearts to see the gold melt and the pieces coming together, without any explanation, any apology, any turn around from the ones who broke us to pieces when we were most vulnerable, I wonder why can't we see ourselves more precious than ever! Is it because we do not see the value in the eyes of those around us? This world that only seem to value the "perfect" pieces mass-produced by the "fast-fashion", that world anyway can not afford a piece produced by Kintsugi! They therefore try to devalue what they can not afford given their years of learning, but as a beautifully curved, broken, and mended piece of art that I am, do I stand enough times in front of the mirror and see myself as that: a piece of high-art with pure gold glistening though the cracks in the light of dawn?

Many of you who talk to me regularly would know that I hate the word "strong" being used for me. I would give away that title of a "strong woman" in a jiffy for a childhood in which I was cherished as I was; a childhood without abuse, a well-supported young-adulthood, and a love filled life with a partner in my twenties. Or at least the first one! I would have handled the rest. However, I truly think my wounds make me unique like each broken piece put together by Kintsugi and I am my whole me with all of them. Some of them are rivers in my soul that call me shed a tear or two sitting beside them some times during the day. Some are like little water-springs that burst out of the earth in the monsoon. Some are perpetual patches like the rocky face of Sahyadri hiils. No amount of rain can help, but oh don't they look surrreal during sunsets! I keep living my life with all of them and fulfil my purpose just like that ceramic saucer that still holds food and shines while doing so. Why am I any less than a human who has not been broken ever? Am I not even more precious with my unique story highlighted in molten gold?