
Do you need to change the way you think?
The last few years have been interesting, to say the least. There are times when I’ve felt on top of the world, there have also been times when I’ve felt so broken. If your honest with yourself, I’m sure there are times that you can relate to both sets of feelings.
Earlier this week I was at a Wedding. The speaker brought a Japanese pot which by Kintsugi (the Japanese art of fixing broken pottery using a gold coloured substance) had been put back together. She went onto say that these pots are often far more beautiful once they’ve been through this process than when first made. Having got back and looked at some on google images I have to agree — they look incredible.
With this image in mind, I want to challange the way you think about your dark times. Could they actually be of benefit to us? Could they become beautiful if we let them?
As a kid growing up I never anticipated or realised the challenges faced in everyday life. Some, now, can be expected and worked through others just can’t be anticipated and are are difficult. They can leave us at times feeling down — or at least they can try to.
The Kintsugi process makes a beautiful piece of pottery. I’ve seen the same happen in my own life. It’s the process that says even the most difficult times of our life, the ones we never thought could be worth anything, can actually be transformed to make something beautiful. In a culture that screams out for perfection, it offers a different perspective.
It doesn’t mean that we don’t acknowledge our feelings -far from it. It’s a change of tack, you acknowledge the feeling but you don’t let it change the outcome.
It’s not easy, but it’s working.
The pressure of perfectionism lifts. Suddenly I don’t find myself working for approval — how often do we do that? I’ve begun to realise that whatever I face, however, I feel and however whatever the anticipated outcome — that I just need to change the way I think.
Ask yourself the question — what would it look like if I allowed Hope, even in the darkest hours of my life, to lead me?
