Recently, I discovered Kintsugi, a fifteenth century Japanese art form dedicated to repairing broken ceramics by filling in the cracks with gold. Once the repair is complete, the “brokenness” of the item — its defects — become its source of beauty and resilience. What if the trials and challenges we face in life were simply an invitation to become artists during our most challenging moments?
Here are some uncomfortable truths the art of Kingitsu teaches us about life:
Things fall apart. Life’s surprises and trials sometimes break us.
As humans we are inherently imperfect. In addition to our strengths and joys, we have flaws and wounds.
Last November my 20-year marriage ended and a beloved nonprofit I helped to create closed its doors after a series of internal crises. For the first time in my life I experienced true brokenness. My feelings of sadness, loss, and fear were at times overwhelming. And for a long time I could only see my errors and limitations as reasons to feel ashamed.
The ups and downs of our personal and professional lives can leave us feeling broken in big and small ways. Has there been a moment in your career when you felt this way? A demotion at work? A failed business venture? A time you let others or yourself down?
The lesson that comes from finding beauty in brokenness is this: In the very moments we feel most broken we are capable of gathering up the pieces and choosing not to throw them away. We can then engage in the slow, delicate, intentional process of self-repair. How does one transform personal hardship into gold? And how does that translate into resilient leadership?
Let go of the illusion that you are supposed to be perfect and that life should always cooperate with us.
Appreciate the parts of hardship that make you stronger, wiser, and more confident in your ability to endure the hard times.
Surround yourself with trusted friends and colleagues who show their love for you by telling you the truth of who you are.
Own your mistakes. Apologize and make amends. Take responsibility to harvest the lessons you must learn without spiraling into self-blame and shame.
Reclaim the parts of yourself that bring you joy and meaning. Remember the purpose and passion that is always there but sometimes gets obscured.
Think about your work (and your life). What has shattered recently? How have you helped yourself or someone else discover strength and beauty in pain and imperfection?
Photo credit: Steenaire
Beautiful, Larry. Thank you for sharing.
Thanks Jennifer. I’m amazed at the number of comments and personal emails this blog has generated. I infer from the responses that I’ve touched a nerve — maybe spoken a truth that needs more light shed on it, more conversation, more exploration of what it means to be flawed beings, to disappoint, to fall short even when we try our hardest. — L
Beautiful and human.
Well said, Gregory. Heart felt, true, useful.
Well said, Gregory. Heart felt, true, useful. Thank you for sharing, Larry.
Greg – You are kind to so frequently post an affirming comment. It’s good to know that awakened leaders like you are reading what I write. Motivates me to keep going. Thank you. — L
Oh Larry
So sorry for your loss
Touched by your openness
Your words will help many
Hi Becky, Thanks. Loss is hard-won wisdom. I don’t dismiss or minimize the “hard” part in any way. Still processing, still filling in the cracks, still polishing this life so that I might shine for myself and others. — L
“There Is a Crack in Everything, That’s How the Light Gets In” -Leonard Cohen
Leonard can say in a line what it takes me a whole page to express. I’ll try not to resent him for it… : ) Thanks for reminding us of this great lyric!
Beautiful wake of courageous inspiration, Larry -Here’s to all that fills the cracks. & agree about that Leonard Cohen line.
Powerful and impactful – it resonates on a deeper level than even the best leadership advice. Thank you.
Marcia – I have been really surprised and delighted at the number of comments and personal emails I’ve received with a similar sentiment to the one you’ve shared. It’s a good reminder of the universality of these struggles. — L
This is beautiful, powerful, and very brave. Thank you. This reminds me of the Torah verses that talk about the broken tablets that Moses threw down in anger being placed in the Ark with the second, complete set of tablets, speaking to the holiness of brokenness. The broken tablets are almost as important as the whole ones, if not more so…Thank you, Larry.
What a great reminder Rabbi Strom that there’s holiness in the brokenness and the space we give ourselves for repair is sacred, courageous, creative space. Thanks for your affirming and wise words! — L
Thank you Larry, so wise and strong. We should have these pointers tattoo’d somewhere in bright lights, since the view from the bottom is so murky. Wishing you love on your journey.
Nancy,
You make an important point — that in the middle of loss the view can be very murky and we can’t always discern clearly how to think about ourselves and what to do. That was part of my motivation for sharing some insights from my own journey. Hoping it will be of value to others facing similar moments of brokenness. Thanks for posting your comment! — L
Thank you sharing Larry. Love the concept of the art of Kingitsu. Something Deb brought to my attention too. Very true and very powerful. To the resilience and the beauty of the golden cracks.
Larry, this is so spot on. Finding the gift in even what is painful is a beautiful practice. Thank you for your thoughtful post as always. You are the gold to so many cracked scenarios. Sending love and support.
Thank you Marte. Much appreciated.
Do you know that you are the *gold* that has helped in the repair process for so many of us??? Oh, your generous heart!