“Dr. Divya, may I ask you what it is that you have to offer that I haven’t found in other mental health professionals I’ve met before I met you?”
This was a fairly simple but big question a client recently asked me, while trying to figure out if I could work with her.
And the answer came to me as I walked her through my clinical approach and treatment plan, landing, serendipitously, on the one aspect that seems to have truly worked with the people I’ve worked with, regardless of why they came to for psychotherapy in the first place. To embrace their “brokenness” and not shun it, or hide from it, or try and repress it, and to see their scars as life lessons, as a testimony of the battles they have valiantly fought, as critical parts to build a new “whole,” imperfect as it may be.
Recent addition to my life lessons collection :)
As usual, the Japanese lend us their wisdom with two beautiful concepts on how to relate to our experiences of being “broken,” of being flawed, imperfect, and also of the impermanence of what we go through in life, whatever be the reason: Kintsugi & Wabi-sabi. And as usual, the concept brings a deeper appreciation and understanding of us as individuals.
When a vase, a bowl, or a teapot break into a few pieces, our tendency is to throw it away, perhaps with a tinge of regret because it may have held an important place in our lives. The Japanese, through their art of Kintsugi / Kintsukorai, bring those broken pieces together, glue them, lining the broken joints with powdered gold, silver or platinum, thus enhancing the value of the brokenness. The piece comes back stronger owing to the strong lacquered glue, more refined, more unique, because it is lined at several places with gold.
So how does this relate to us?
Let’s face it: We all get hurt, life will throw us into a loop, we will get bruised and cut; we will break, and we will get down on our knees and maybe hit rock bottom. That’s just how it is.
People find the act of crumbling down painful; they want to avoid it; not have to face it. “Make it go away,” people have pleaded to me. And I say, “Open your heart and embrace it. There’s a reason it is in your face. Maybe it will have you discover aspects of yourself you didn’t know existed.”
If ever we hit rock bottom we realize this experience is needed to break the identities we create of ourselves and others, layering our existence of “being” with everything else that erodes that being. Of being strong, in-control (vs. in-charge, which actually works better), of predictability, of attachments, of loving and being loved selfishly, of success, and of fear of failure, of being happy always, of perfection, of being awake, of fearing hurt and pain.
And most of all of “permanence.” We crave permanence when what we actually need is to realize that impermanence is the real truth. Of life just happening, emerging, unfolding, because that is just how life is meant to be. You just have to ride the tide, manage the twists and turns, try to keep your balance, or get back up after you teetered and fell. It’s as simple as that. Even if the words feel simpler than the actions.
It’s all impermanent, even our brokenness. Especially our brokenness. Our experiences change; and we will all heal, our wounds will close and become scars or they will fade; our broken hearts and souls will mend again. We may not be the same, but I hope we all have the courage to bounce back repeatedly, to be resilient and to come back stronger, and to love ourselves again, and have the trust to love others as well, for who they are, in all their imperfections too.
Let me tell you about the brokenness and gold lacquer in my life. What, you may ask, is the way to repair a broken heart, to have it shining in gold and magnificent right now and always? Where do I find my strength, my gold dust? Each moment of a heartache makes me stronger, I see lessons in it, and if nothing else, I see that I have the ability to carry on despite the ache and the hurt. And just because my heart was broken, it doesn’t mean that it loses its ability to love, or receive love. It continues to do what it was supposed to be doing…loving wholeheartedly because there is nothing that love doesn’t fix.
’Wabi-sabi’ was the key to the lock, the gold dust to the broken seams. There is impermanence, there is suffering, and there can be an embracing of the imperfections in ourselves and others. That leads to acceptance, of how we are, with our idiosyncrasies, fears, our insecurities, our fragmented selves, and a recognition of how we hide from our own selves and from others. And there is nothing more healing than a complete acceptance of who we are.
There’s this song from Leonard Cohen called “Anthem,” which has these poignant lines:
“Ring the bells that still can ring
Forget your perfect offering
There is a crack, a crack in everything
That’s how the light gets in.”
I hope we let the light of self-love in. I hope we stop trying to run away from distress, pain, our frailties and our flaws, and embrace our own selves for who we are, and what gifts we bring to life.
And I hope we experience true love in all our relationships. Because love has no reason, no rhyme, no agenda, no form. When it doesn’t seek attachment or possessing, when it doesn’t demand conforming, or have labels attached, when it takes everything that comes in its path and courageously marches on, you know you have experienced true love.
Maybe that’s just what I feel, from my broken, resplendent gold-lacquered heart.