Broken Vessel

In a therapy session, I was challenged to describe myself without the attachment of a role. This is a lot harder than I originally thought. I’m a good husband, nope… role. I’m a good father, ehhh… try again. I am a hard worker… again. I am a great leader… AGAIN.

I am resilient. Hmmm, let’s see where this goes.

So much of who I am or identified myself with, has been my pain.  “I endured this because… I went through this because…” I have let my past and pain form who I am. How can I possibly learn to grow or more importantly, heal, if I use them as my identity? I have held onto this pain as tightly as I could, I didn’t want to lose it or get better, if I did, then who would I be? I am who I am because of the trauma, right?

The more that I ponder this the more I realize how foolish I have been. Sure, the past is a part of me, but it’s not who I am. How could I ever imagine moving forward when the past has a hold of me? Ok, that’s a lie, the past doesn’t have a hold of me. I… have a vice grip on it. I have refused to loosen my hold, I have refused to let go of it, because then, what would I be?

I am broken and scarred I have endured pain and suffering, but I have also inflicted pain and suffering onto others. How do I reconcile this? How do I move forward? What is my purpose and who am I? I have tried to become my pain and I have tried to ignore it. For me, I am usually one extreme or the other. I rarely find balance. Balance is a weird concept to me. I’m usually all in or all out. But as I inquire upon my children when they have fruitlessly continued along the same path with hopes of change… “How’s that working out for you? Nothing Changes, if nothing changes.”

For the first few decades of my life, I ignored how I felt and buried the pain into the furthest depths within me, at which point in my early thirties my body finally decided to let me know that it was a bad idea. I had tremors in my right hand, horrible headaches, and random bruising. My doctor even thought that I might have brain tumors. Nope, just my body aggressively disagreeing with what I had done my whole life. If you hurt, push it down, bury it deep, and salt the earth so that nothing can grow there ever again. Not the wisest decision.

Soon after that, I started therapy, I say that I started, but that’s BS. I went to see a therapist, but I wasn’t as open to therapy as I claimed to be. Over the years I have seen several therapists. They all did what they could with what I gave. It wasn’t their fault; it was definitely a “me” issue. I saw therapy as a game, “Let’s see how smart you are!” I wouldn’t LIE to them, I just spoke in half-truths, to see if they noticed that I wasn’t giving them everything. I was kind of, well, a douche.

At some point along the way I decided to become a martyr. I spoke about my pain, I told myself that I went through all of this to become who I was. That my purpose was to help others through their pain. I glorified my trauma to build myself up. “Look at what I got through, so can you!” again BS. It’s the one extreme or another again. I wasn’t healing, I wasn’t “getting through” anything. I was disassociating myself from my pain. I spoke about my past as if I was telling the story about a fictional character. I didn’t connect with it. I didn’t even acknowledge it. How on earth am I supposed to heal from it?

So where do I go from here? Hide from it? Nope, bad idea. Make it my identity? Again, bad idea. Let’s try this balance thing… Kintsugi!!!

Kintsugi, which translates to "golden joinery," is rooted in the Japanese philosophy of Wabi-sabi, which finds beauty in imperfection. This ancient technique, which involves repairing broken pottery with a special lacquer mixed with powdered gold does more than just mend objects; it transforms them into unique masterpieces. Unlike Western approaches to repair, that often try to hide the damage, kintsugi highlights and celebrates the fractures. The golden lines of repair are not seen as something to be concealed but as integral parts of the object’s history and beauty. This philosophy teaches us that breakage and repair are part of life’s story.

In life, we all encounter moments that leave us feeling broken, shattered. These experiences can leave us feeling fragmented and less than. However, kintsugi offers a powerful metaphor for these moments: our brokenness can lead to a new kind of beauty and strength. The scars that we carry, both seen and unseen, are testimonials to our ability to persevere and to rise above our trials and adversity. They don’t take away from us, they don’t make us ugly; they enhance us, they add depth and meaning to our very personal stories.

In an Instagram world, that often idolizes perfection, embracing our imperfections requires courage. Society pressures us to present flawless bodies and faces, using a filter and photoshop to disguise our imperfections and hide our insecurities. Yet, kintsugi teaches us that it is through our imperfections that we find true beauty and strength.

I acknowledge my past, my trauma, my imperfections, my mistakes. I am fully aware that there are more to come, and that’s ok. Accepting our flaws and past mistakes is a crucial step towards self-compassion and healing. By acknowledging that we are all imperfect beings, we can begin to treat ourselves with the kindness we so freely give to others. This shift in perspective allows us to see our trials not as hardships to endure, but as crucial aspects in our journey of life.

It took me 48 long years to get to this point of understanding and I have so much more to learn. I implore you, it’s never too late or too early to shift your mindset. When you face difficult times, it can be hard to see beyond your immediate pain or sorrow. However, by adopting the kintsugi mindset, you can start to view these challenges as opportunities for growth. Each crack and fracture in your life can be seen as a chance to build resilience, develop empathy, and gain a deeper understanding of yourself and others.

So, I ask you this, “Who are you without the attachment of a role? Who are you without your mask on”?

Me, I’m just a broken vessel, resilient and more importantly, kind; who wants nothing more than to love and be loved. Broken an’ all.    

Join the conversation: What are the ‘golden repairs’ in your life? Think about the experiences that have left you scarred but stronger. How can you celebrate these as integral parts of your story? Let's support each other in this journey of self-discovery and healing."