Kintsugi

Years ago, I read Eliot Peper's Breach, and I have always thought that these two passages from the book beautifully make a case for authenticity:

“Instead of trying to cover up the damage, the repair is illuminated, the imperfections transformed into a source of beauty. I’ve always seen kintsugi as a physical manifestation of mono no aware, the pathos of impermanence, the gentle awareness that everything, all of us, are fragile and transient, that change is the only constant, that we are, at our best, lovingly reconstructed patchworks of our shattered selves.”

"It was possible to be both broken and beautiful at the same time. Restoration was an act of becoming. Every song was a remix. Every tale was a retelling. Creation was reconfiguration. Things that fell apart could be made whole, and even transcend themselves."

I understand the instinct to want to hide one's imperfections and put one's best foot forward. I also appreciate the benefit of being able to do this well consistently.

However, this approach is somewhat counter-intuitive to our inherent human nature, which includes imperfections and missteps.

The above passages are not only a call to embrace those imperfections as a way to just represent and be as-is. It also invites us to believe that a transcendent experience might occur because we do so.