Kintsugi: The Way of the Wounded Healer

There is a Japanese term, Kintsugi, which refers to the art of repairing broken pottery with a lacquer mixed with powdered gold. Kintsugi began in the 15th century when a Japanese military dictator, Ashikaga Yoshimasa, wanted to repair a broken and beloved tea bowl in an artistic way. If you google images of Kintsugi you will be astounded at the beauty of broken pieces of pottery that have lines of gold that fill a once cracked area. Kintsugi has come to be known as way to honor an entity’s history, rather than endeavoring to hide the damage.

I think about Kintsugi when I think about my own brokenness. Like Yoshimasa’s bowl, I too have been broken in many ways. Some of the cracks on me come from my childhood years when I struggled with the pain of my dad’s alcoholism and from moving a lot and feeling insecure and scared each time I started a new school. What are the causes of your own cracks?

I sometimes think of myself as a metaphorical bowl of cracks and then I try to picture that my cracks are now lined with gold, like Yoshimasa’s bowl. As I visualize these gold lines, I realize they not only tell the story of my pain, but they also are the narrative of my resilience. It is because of my cracks that I have learned how to heal the shame that once shackled me. Shame is that voice in our head that tells us we are not good enough. Shame invites us to hide our scars. But I have learned that instead of hiding this shame, healing actually comes through owning our stories and sharing them with others. It is when we pick up our broken pieces and befriend them that we start to become whole. Ernest Hemingway once said, “The world breaks everyone and afterward many are strong at the broken places.”

Our cracks, our brokenness and even our imperfections are not things we need to hide. We are who we are because of our scars and not in spite of them. And every colorful and sordid piece of our past is part of what us makes us unique. I could view myself as a victim, who had a childhood filled with many difficulties and therefore is destined to be broken my whole life. And growing up as the oldest child of an alcoholic father certainly did lead me to struggle with some negative traits; including inheriting a personality which at my worst can try to fix, control, please and over-function. I have to be very mindful to avoid these tendencies. However, my own story has also led me to have many positive character strengths including empathy, altruism, acceptance and a forgiving spirit. And so even though I wish I could have avoided the pain of my childhood, I know there have been many gifts that have emerged from my struggles.

After the death of his three year old child, Rabbi Harold Kushner said he became a better counselor and rabbi. He developed wisdom, patience and a forgiving heart. Kushner was also forthright that he would have given up this spiritual growth if he could only have his child back or avoided the pain. We too would like to evade the pain we face in our lives, and yet Kintsugi reminds us that even though our scars initially are painful and involve grief and brokenness, they can eventually be opportunities of growth and healing.

The spiritual writer Henri Nouwen once said:

“Some of us tend to do away with things that are slightly damaged. Instead of repairing them we say: ‘Well, I don’t have time to fix it, I might as well throw it in the garbage can and buy a new one.’ Often we also treat people this way. We say: ‘Well, he has a problem with drinking; well, she is quite depressed; well, they have mismanaged their business…we’d better not take the risk of working with them.’ When we dismiss people out of hand because of their apparent woundedness, we stunt their lives by ignoring their gifts, which are often buried in their wounds…We all are bruised reeds, whether our bruises are visible or not. The compassionate life is the life in which we believe that strength is hidden in weakness and that true community is a fellowship of the weak.”

Henri Nouwen refers to those on the journey of healing their pain as “wounded healers.” I am a wounded healer. I am a cracked bowl put back together with a gold lacquer. I am strong at my broken places. My scars are beautiful. And yours are too. We don’t have to keep hiding our brokenness. Let’s befriend our wounds and imagine them covered in gold. But let’s not stop at just befriending our own scars and instead let’s be sensitive that we have co-workers, friends and family members who are living out of their wounded self. The process of putting the gold lacquer on the cracks does not happen overnight. It takes time to heal our wounds. As so we need to be patient and grace-filled with ourselves and with one another and give people space, time and encouragement as we all engage in the sacred process of Kintsugi.

Let’s heal our scars and make them beautiful,

Christy