[2021-01-02] Kintsukuroi
Today, I had an abundance of physical energy, following an excellent night of sleep. My Fitbit sleep score was 91, the highest it's ever been, thanks in part to the soporific effect of The Collected Stories of Winnie-the-Pooh.
After breakfast, my son and I went for our morning walk. The warm, bright sun made up for the tougher-than-usual slog through the freshly fallen snow.
When we returned, I cleaned up the kitchen—washing and wiping the dishes and sweeping the floor. After lunch, I repeated the kitchen clean-up and then washed the outside and inside of all the cupboard doors on the kitchen cabinets.
When my mom called for our daily chat, I paced in the house, ensuring that I reached my goal of walking more than 10,000 steps.
This may not sound like a lot, but it's the strongest I've felt in months. It feels spectacular, especially as my body continues to recover from the cumulative effects of five rounds of chemotherapy.
The significance of my accomplishments was echoed in today's entry in A Year of Positive Thinking, which was about the wisdom of Kintsukuroi.
Kintsukuroi is a kind of Japanese ceramic style. The word Kintsukuroi means "to repair with gold." In the Kintsukuroi tradition, when a ceramic piece breaks, an artisan will fuse the pieces back together using liquid gold or gold-dusted lacquer. So rather than being covered up, the breaks become more obvious, and a new piece of art emerges from the brokenness.
Kintsukuroi embraces flaws and imperfections, but it also teaches the essence of resilience. Every crack in a ceramic piece is part of its history, and each piece becomes more beautiful because it has been broken.
You will fail.
You will fail.
You will break.
You will stand up and dust yourself off.
You will repair yourself again and again.
And eventually, though you will be different than before, you will again become whole.
You will be even more beautiful precisely because of all of this.
You will be a better person because of your imperfections, not in spite of them.
Today felt like the culmination of having stood up, dusted myself off, repaired myself and discovered that I am whole again. I know that there is more to come, including another meeting with my oncologists, my sixth chemotherapy treatment, new medication to keep cancer at bay, the results of genetic testing. The journey is not done, but I am feeling optimistic and remarkably whole.
Consistent with the message of becoming a better person, a dear friend who had also had cancer wrote to me today with a beautiful message. She said that what I experienced in 2020 is one of the most significant experiences in my life: "a turning point." She said that there was a before and an after, but from now on, there is only the future. She finished with this: "Enjoy life!"
The energy I felt today wasn't merely a reflection of physical strength. It was also a reflection of mental strength and a feeling that I am becoming a better person because of my imperfections not in spite of them. That seems fitting on this 150th post to Jenesis.
