Connection Points

The Japanese have a practice called Kintsugi. (A practice that I am amazed by, but in no way take ownership of or claim to understand in the context it truly deserves.) In its simplest form, Kintsugi is a process of repairing broken pieces of ceramics with gold. The end result, a piece that is beautifully broken. Its parts, fused together. When given enough space, the pieces come together to become something more than they could ever have been otherwise. Kintsugi; a breaking point, followed by a connection. Two opposing perspectives linked together with gold and glue. A process of opportunity, possibility… transparency. A piece, in its fullest form, does not hide the broken parts, but wears them proudly, for all of the world to see. There is no pressure to try and make something what it was. It is a true revelation made possible by delicate reimagining. Here we find perspective for ourselves as well, broken or connected? 

A breaking point, death. A breaking point, an illness. A cheating fiance. The scapegoat of a codependent family. All points of trauma, breaking points, experienced in my own life, from one perspective, but also connection points when seen from a different point of view.   

Connection points are the gold that fuse us together, the things that lead us to true connection. They are departures from our norm, brief happenings big or small, that present themselves to open us up to possibility. These moments of trauma feel like breaking to our nervous system because each experience mimics the dropping of a delicate piece of ceramic onto the ground below.

My breaking points have presented me with opportunities for healing. Healing is a process of feeling and feeling can be intense, even painful at times. The realization I have made is that we all have trauma in common, but we are not broken; we are constantly making newer versions of ourselves with gold and glue. At times, when we are in our feelings, it may seem like we are breaking into a million little pieces that will never be put back together and that’s okay. 

To be whole is not to be beautiful or flawless or perfect. When we have lived experience, to believe that we should remain the same, untouched versions of ourselves we began as feels painfully impossible. To be whole is a process of renewal, rearranging, connecting. A journey that is beautifully transparent. One that isn’t afraid to reveal the connection points with arms wide open as if to say, “Look at all of me. These parts that look broken are parts that have given me the most strength. These parts are mine. This gold was earned through dedication and appreciation of myself and all I continue to become.”… one breath at a time. 

I choose to see the possibility of connection points. I choose not to believe I am or ever was broken. Come see me as I am. 

Connected or broken? You get to decide.