What Brokenness Can Teach Us
Have you ever felt broken?
I’ve personally experienced the feeling of being broken and it’s a sensation frequently described by my clients. I think that feeling broken is an unavoidable part of the human condition. There are countless ways in which we can feel broken, examples include a sense of inadequacy, being abandoned, feeling out of control, and believing we’re damaged.
My most notable memory of experiencing brokenness was when, at 26 years old and in my first semester of graduate school, I struggled to reconcile my lifelong faith in the LDS church with the newly realized fact that I’m gay. It seemed as though these parts of myself were mutually exclusive and refused to coexist. My fractured identity left me feeling completely broken inside and was almost too much for me to bear.
It was around this time of my life that I first learned of Kintsugi, the Japanese art of using gold lacquer to mend together broken pieces of pottery.
The idea of enhancing or illuminating a damaged item instead of hiding, disguising, or disposing of the broken pieces was revolutionary to my mind. After growing up so focused on being or seeming perfect, I was enamored by the notion of imperfection being seen as beautiful and something to celebrate.
I considered the alternative to Kintsugi’s lesson; the ultimate sense of isolation and loneliness that accompany a life spent pretending to be perfect while keeping everyone at a distance so they won’t glimpse any hidden flaws. And their spectators, admiring the other’s perfection while feeling shame for not being just as perfect, ultimately view themselves as worthless.
It then occurred to me that, perhaps, the lonely pretender and the admiring/shaming onlooker are one and the same. It seemed like the benefit – avoiding the discomfort of vulnerability – no longer outweighed all the disadvantages.
It took a lot of time, effort, sweat, tears, and therapy to help me ‘Kintsugi’ my identity back together. Eventually, though, I found healing. And while my once-fractured parts no longer look the way they did before, I wouldn’t want it any other way; I’ve learned to celebrate what I use to view as damaged.
I’ve come to believe brokenness is a pivotal step in the journey toward wholeness.
Serving as a constant reminder of the lesson Kintsugi teaches me is a favorite piece from my collection of art by Kelly Rae Roberts, the social-worker-turned-artist, which includes the following words:
"Honor your brokenness for it is beckoning you to allow your sacred light to rush into your cracks and illuminate your soul."
[https://www.kellyraeroberts.com/shop/prints/angels-and-guides/honor-your-brokenness/]