This is incredibly profound and powerful. I think you’re right - we never think something will happen to us. When it does, that vacuum echoes. (I wish you could hear the sound I just made to describe that void) It’s silent yet ringing. I probably could write an entire article about that!
The japanese art, is such a beautiful metaphor. In our world of thinking we are immune to tragedy and heartache, this ancient art shows how something beautiful can be made of it.
Thank you for sharing this and inviting me to your ‘Stack for this read.
Dear Maria, thank you very much for your kind words. Reading them, I could almost hear the sound of the echoing vacuum.
I encourage you to write an article about that; I would be one of your first readers because I agree that we have a sense of immunity that can change every day.
Going to grab some gold lustre and paint my scars. Now in a cancer recurrence I am evolving the way I experience it and look at how it started 13 years ago with different eyes.
I love the analogy of kintsugi, a beautiful view of the trauma and tragedy of our lives and how it all creates our current self - a masterpiece of life.
Thanks for sharing this approach within cancer patients. My best friend was diagnosed with breast cancer last year and it's been a whirlwind for her and her community -- there's a community mental health center near us that offers a kintsugi workshop. We were given the analogy, picked a piece of pottery, broke it with a hammer, meditated over it trying to recall when we've felt broken in our lives, then worked with gold epoxy to rebuild it. The physical act of doing this in community was beautiful. We all went around sharing what it was like and shared gratitude for the new piece of pottery we created. It stuck with me as a profound experience and the pottery remains on my desk as a visual reminder.
Thank you so much for taking the time to read my piece.
I read your article about the workshop and enjoyed how you shared your thoughts and emotions regarding this hands-on experience with Kintsugi. I appreciate that it serves as a strong metaphor that alters the way we typically view broken things or scars—repairing them can add value and strength; it doesn’t have to signify weakness - a crack can be mended with gold.
Such a wonderful space to apply the concept of Kintsugi. One of the reasons I also appreciate working in oncology is how eye-opening it is - we are not immune, though we often live as though “none of this will happen to us”. Yet, as with any difficulty in life, what matters (arguably the most) is how we perceive and respond to the circumstances. Mindset plays a large role in response to cancer therapy and outcomes, a topic I want to investigate further. But the bottom line is, Kintsugi creates a beautiful visual of what can come out of the pain cancer brings, hoping there can be a residual golden hue when the wounds (physical and emotional) have healed.
Thank you for sharing your thoughts in these beautiful words, Cheyenne!
I think of us living as though “none of this will happen to us” as a protective shield, an innocent act of repression. When that is shattered, it often gives way to a new perspective and a new mindset, at least, that is what I am learning from the people I work with, and I am deeply grateful for these experiences.
This is incredibly profound and powerful. I think you’re right - we never think something will happen to us. When it does, that vacuum echoes. (I wish you could hear the sound I just made to describe that void) It’s silent yet ringing. I probably could write an entire article about that!
The japanese art, is such a beautiful metaphor. In our world of thinking we are immune to tragedy and heartache, this ancient art shows how something beautiful can be made of it.
Thank you for sharing this and inviting me to your ‘Stack for this read.
Dear Maria, thank you very much for your kind words. Reading them, I could almost hear the sound of the echoing vacuum.
I encourage you to write an article about that; I would be one of your first readers because I agree that we have a sense of immunity that can change every day.
Going to grab some gold lustre and paint my scars. Now in a cancer recurrence I am evolving the way I experience it and look at how it started 13 years ago with different eyes.
Dear Lee, thank you for sharing your change in perspective. Wishing you all the best!
I love the analogy of kintsugi, a beautiful view of the trauma and tragedy of our lives and how it all creates our current self - a masterpiece of life.
Thanks for sharing this approach within cancer patients. My best friend was diagnosed with breast cancer last year and it's been a whirlwind for her and her community -- there's a community mental health center near us that offers a kintsugi workshop. We were given the analogy, picked a piece of pottery, broke it with a hammer, meditated over it trying to recall when we've felt broken in our lives, then worked with gold epoxy to rebuild it. The physical act of doing this in community was beautiful. We all went around sharing what it was like and shared gratitude for the new piece of pottery we created. It stuck with me as a profound experience and the pottery remains on my desk as a visual reminder.
Thank you so much for taking the time to read my piece.
I read your article about the workshop and enjoyed how you shared your thoughts and emotions regarding this hands-on experience with Kintsugi. I appreciate that it serves as a strong metaphor that alters the way we typically view broken things or scars—repairing them can add value and strength; it doesn’t have to signify weakness - a crack can be mended with gold.
https://katiebeanwellness.substack.com/p/all-my-scars-are-golden
Such a wonderful space to apply the concept of Kintsugi. One of the reasons I also appreciate working in oncology is how eye-opening it is - we are not immune, though we often live as though “none of this will happen to us”. Yet, as with any difficulty in life, what matters (arguably the most) is how we perceive and respond to the circumstances. Mindset plays a large role in response to cancer therapy and outcomes, a topic I want to investigate further. But the bottom line is, Kintsugi creates a beautiful visual of what can come out of the pain cancer brings, hoping there can be a residual golden hue when the wounds (physical and emotional) have healed.
Thank you for sharing your thoughts in these beautiful words, Cheyenne!
I think of us living as though “none of this will happen to us” as a protective shield, an innocent act of repression. When that is shattered, it often gives way to a new perspective and a new mindset, at least, that is what I am learning from the people I work with, and I am deeply grateful for these experiences.
Some really profound and recognisable observations here both as a survivor and fellow therapist. Thank you.
Dear Dawn, thank you for taking the time and giving positive feedback! I really appreciate your response.
This is a really insightful article.