kintsukuroi - "to repair with gold"

The news is full of pain. Images of a young boy dead - one life in the swell of lives displaced by modern wars and conflict.  My heart breaks.  There are never easy answers to the conflicts of the world.  I think of my own family history - how recently much of my family moved to the US.  And how easily we forget.     

I keep thinking about the boy's father.  We who are left behind in this land of the living - are left with the hard choice of what to do with our shattered hearts and world. I keep searching for those who remind me that we have choices of how we face the pain.  Hard choices.  But choices still.  And as in most of my life - I have few answers - so I have to make something.  

"Little one, there is some pain and suffering in the world that we can not stop.  But we can choose how we answer it - with life or more death. "  from The Heart of Shahrazad

 

 

 

 

Kintsukuroi - To repair with gold

Days of wrestling...

Days of darkness..

Days when the heaviness wins...

-------

It is said that pain makes us stronger. 

And I wonder. 

For many -  pain is Crushing. 

Breaking.

And we are found in pieces. 

Pretending that we aren't broken feels wrong. 

Simpler perhaps...

to sweep the broken into the waste. 

To forgot.

-----

Yet

I wonder what would happen if we stopped and saw  

Broken.

Shattered.

Vulnerable pieces

And

slowly

gently

glued

them back together. 

---

We might not be stronger.   

We might actually be weaker. 

It would be hard.   

This choice of beauty and repair over destruction.  

To stop

feeding the endless whirlwind of pain.

---

Truth.

I want to fall in that whirlwind of pain. 

To just say I'm broken and then smash the world around me. 

---

And yet...What if we glued together our shattered  pieces? 

I wonder if beauty might not be stronger than our pain?

-----

Stronger than our pointing fingers 

our shame

our anger

our guilt.

Stronger than death and destruction.

Stronger than the trash we see in our hands. 

---

What if we took gold and glued our broken pieces together? 

---

Holding gently in our hands the scars.

 Pouring beauty between the cracks and

Pressing the pieces back together

--- 

What if we had the courage to create

when all we've  been given is destruction? 

---

What if we are not strength but broken beauty? 

Pieced together. 

Never forgetting our scars.  

Instead

boldly highlighting them in gold.

A mark of our choice. 

----

The choice of beauty and life

The mark of a hard path.

Chosen over the siren call of destruction and pointing fingers.