The Japanese have a method of repairing cracked ceramics or pottery by filling in the broken areas with gold, silver, or platinum in a process called “kintsugi”. Here is what I found online about kintsugi: “The philosophy behind the technique is to recognize the history of the object and to visibly incorporate the repair into the new piece instead of disguising it. The process usually results in something more beautiful than the original.” (http://www.thisiscolossal.com/2014/05/kintsugi-the-art-of-broken-pieces/)
Wikipedia
Isn’t that a beautiful piece above? Highlighting the cracks and filling them with gold did indeed result in something even more beautiful than the original.
It’s interesting, because I think most of us have a tendency to try to hide what’s broken. At least, I do. In the case of this art form, though, the flaws are highlighted and become part of the whole, finished piece.
I personally have a tendency to hide and withdraw from people. Part of it is my personality type (which is INFP). Quite frankly, I could easily spend 8 or more hours a day alone, many days, without any trouble, writing, reading, thinking, etc. (not that I do this; I can’t recall the last time I had 8 straight hours alone). It’s not that I do not need friends, either; I do, and crave deep conversations and friendships with others. Nonetheless, I must plan on some alone time or else I feel depleted of energy (which is very characteristic of introverts).
I read somewhere that only 3% of people are INFPs, but honestly, I doubt that was an accurate and scientific number given the source of where I found that. While the number probably isn’t huge, my theory is that the true number of INFP’s is still underreported. Why, do you ask? My joke is that it’s because all of us INFPs are off by ourselves somewhere… so, of course, we’re missing out on being included when they are collecting this data, haha. 🙂
Anyway, while recharging alone is what I need to do (and extroverts need to be around others), it doesn’t mean constantly sequestering oneself. I have a tendency to go in this direction and withdraw, especially if I’m struggling with something (and I don’t mean struggling with things like food allergies or other similar kinds of things here; I’m talking about deeper issues). Because of that, I have to force myself to do the opposite, as it’s much easier to isolate myself.
Broken things are beautiful and are useful. Acknowledging and talking about what’s broken in us is a beautiful thing, and results in a more beautiful, more finished whole. When we’re healed, we can be filled up and can be used.
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