Kintsugi: Embracing Damage and Celebrating Your Scars - Japanese
On what I did during the two-months break, and welcoming the new year of Words of the World
I've been away from Substack for two months. Not only writing and publishing, but also I didn't read or keep up with the agenda as a deliberate decision.
I underwent a Substack detox. Along with the relaxation that comes from being free of routine duty, the new state generated by the absence of that entity also made me yearn for my devoted habit and the fulfillment that comes with an ongoing work.
I can see so clearly now that everything needs to take a temporary pause. Making a calm judgment is made possible by being able to observe from a distance with a serenity that is unencumbered by habit, which is, in my opinion, an essential requirement for any work.
So, throughout the past two months, what did I do?
I read a lot of books—not online, books.
I have read ten books in two months, which is quite a lot for me, and dozens are waiting for the rest of the year.
Reading a book was a healing and cultivating ritual. I smelled them first, imagining their laborious writing process, all the deep thoughts, bowing respectfully to them before diving in and allowing myself to be merged with them in a full trust.
They did things to me that only books and short stories could do: they poked me, shocked me, confronted me, and made me wonder and want for even more. Ultimately, they changed me for the better.
I have met new writers’ works and different forms of writing.
In the past, I used to be a stubborn reader of novels, if possible, long ones. I now love reading short stories and am hoping to write one. Short stories are compact and transformative, like a pill. I read the best ones of them from Chekhov, Tolstoy, Cortazar, George Saunders, and many other great artists.
I appreciate the value of the classics even more.
Even though they were written centuries ago, their essence is the same enough to leave one in awe, because the essence of human beings hasn't changed a single inch in centuries. Even if technology advances, even if one travels into space, the essence of human beings with their psychology, needs and impulses is the same; and I think the classics are the works of art that best describe human beings to themselves. I have started to read Russian classics again.
I took two beautiful trips, one of them abroad.
I went to the sea, sunbathed, discovered new places, had long conversations with people I love, ate new food, dreamed more freely, filled myself with hope.
I have thought and read a lot about writing.
I have studied in detail the path I need to follow, especially in fiction writing, and I have even started writing the first pages of a novel, maybe short story, I don’t know. I’m not sure exactly which direction it will take since I don’t care about the product but the process itself.
Today, I start my WoW essays again with curiosity and eagerness, wishing that my efforts to think, learn, produce, and approach art through writing will make me a better writer, a better person, and a freer spirit.
Choosing the first word after a long break was tricky; it was like picking out the ideal outfit for a date with a special person you haven't seen in a while. However, I am also aware that clothing has an impact lasting only two minutes, after which the intentions of people shape the rest of the conversation.
I'm giving a subtle reverence to my longtime love of Japanese culture by selecting a Japanese phrase for our first date, with a promise for a wider range of languages in the next weeks.
We begin the new WoW era with kintsugi, which I'm sure word and Japanese culture enthusiasts are already familiar with but which I think is worth mentioning.
Kintsugi refers to the Japanese art of using golden glue to fuse the fragments of shattered vases plates together, paying tribute to the broken pieces making the whole. So, beautiful vases with veins of gold are what Google displays when you search for kintsugi.
Kintsugi is not limited to objects. It also honors the fragility of the human soul. Self-compassion that glorifies the human being. Accepting ourselves as a whole, without excluding or ignoring our weaknesses. And even one step beyond that is loving another person with their broken parts, helping them repair themselves, and to include them in your life as a whole.
Not only one’s sparkles but also shadows. Not only strength but also cracks. Not only one’s strengths, which are on public display, but also one’s weaknesses, which he dares to display in his own recesses.
Kintsugi reminds me of deeply intimate human circumstances.
Imagine a father, preferably your own. As a child, you thought he was a hero who could defend you from everything. You never saw him cry because it was unthinkable. Instead of crying, he would seek a solution, as all heroes do.
As you grew older, you came to realize that your father was a mortal and ordinary member of the human race. Your father's fortress was similarly composed of stone, it was not as rigid as steel. Eventually, there would be a hole in its walls.
One day, you paid a surprise visit to your father. You opened the key and entered quietly. You expected to see him reading the newspaper, drinking coffee, or watching a football match, but he greeted you in a most unexpected way. Your father was alone on the couch and sobbing. You stood stone cold. You wanted to leave quietly, but leaving would be like running away, which would have hurt you even more, even your father. It was like catching someone you loved stealing or seeing them naked.
When the waiting grew unbearable, you approached your father; the pain was even more visible on his face, as were the tears you had never idea there. The entire iceberg was now exposed from every angle, and it was up to you to decide what to do with it. It felt like a test you had to pass. What were you going to do with it?
I believe that the moment a person enters adulthood is when they witness their parents' weaknesses. The heroes announce their retirement and your world must take care of itself, and it is up to you. Even in these circumstances, it is vital to hug the heroes and assist them in licking their wounds with dignity. Like the Japanese who repair their vases with gold.
While the vulnerability of parents seems to be one of the most impressive, vulnerability is for all of us. As Brene Brown argues in her TED talk and also her valuable books, our vulnerability is actually the most precious piece we have to offer the world.
We all have a weak place to break. What will make a difference is the willingness to mend them with compassion and dignity. To kiss and caress our broken places. Because that is where life exists.
Keep your joy of life alive and firing till our appointment here next week.
— Gulsun
We are made of stories—that is, of words.
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