I’m back! My “loop” was successful, and I’m now back at home recovering, sans thyroid. At the moment (due to the wound, bandage & internal bits & bobs), it feels like something’s strangling me constantly, but I try to ignore it…! The hospital stay was mercifully short with a nice roommate and great care by the hospital personnel. Now, I’m living on soup, testing the waters with vocal exercises, and resting my throat when it needs it – but need to challenge it as soon as the swelling goes down so that I don’t lose my vocal range.
When I let my friends and family on Facebook know what’s been happening, someone made a comment about the scar (hoping that it wouldn’t be visible long, for my sake); but I must confess that that aspect of the whole procedure was and is my least concern. For me, scars mean that I’m alive; they mean that my body is healing itself. They are a part of my history and have been instrumental in making me who I am.
The Japanese have a wonderful philosophy about the topic of scars: Kintsukuroi (meaning “golden repair”) is the Japanese art of mending broken pottery using lacquer resin mixed with gold or silver. They believe that when an object has been broken or suffered damage, it carries great meaning and history; its brokenness, when mended, makes it more beautiful. The cracks represent events that took place in the history of the pottery and make it more unique by their very existence. (Click here for a short but poignant video on the topic.)
In the western world, there is a shameful abundance of waste; if something gets broken, most people just throw it away. But what if we were to adopt the Japanese mentality? Chances are, we’d begin to look at the world around us through different lenses. We would then begin to see the people around us from a different perspective. Our modern media culture has become fixated on perfection (what they deem perfect changes over time; at the moment that standard tends toward the inane, the plastic, the uniform, and the anorexic, to put it bluntly); but this perspective can often blind people to the beauty of the unique and the diverse.
We should never be ashamed of our uniqueness; never be ashamed of grey hair, scars, or unique body features that make you who you are. Eating right, exercising and treating ourselves with TLC are all that’s wanted; beyond that, we are what we are, warts and all. We are all pieces of Kintsugi in the making, fearfully and wonderfully made. Cracks just let your light shine through…
9 responses to “The Kintsugi of Life”
I’m thrilled that your surgery is over and that things went well for you. I’m with you on scars, because I have plenty of them. The philosophy of Kintsukuroi is marvelous.
Thank you – me too! I think everyone has scars – some on the outside, some on the inside; painting both with silver and gold is beauty in the making.
Poor thing …hugs! Hoping for a speedy recovery~
Get well soon!
Yes, love that repair concept. Try it out on my studio pottery, which my husband keeps inadvertently breaking!
Perhaps it’s his way of nudging you into a new creative expression! 😉
Got to look at it positively! It’s not my studio work, unfortunately. It is work done by esteemed and sometimes deceased potters!
Lovely. I support this line of thought all the way. I hope all is well with you now.
Thank you. The scar is healing well, and life is back to its hectic “normal”. 😉