Some mornings don’t go as expected. The coffee spills, a fragile item shatters, and the day feels just a bit off. It might be something small, like forgetting the house keys, that sets everything off balance. These disruptions may seem insignificant, but wabi-sabi invites a pause to appreciate the imperfect moments (Juniper, 2003). Rather than viewing these moments as signs of a day gone wrong, consider how a brief pause can shift perspective.
Take the chipped mug on the counter. At first, it seems like just another damaged object, a reminder of an old accident. The chip carries a story of rushed mornings, tired hands reaching for it, and moments now gone. The mug, like those who use it, shows the marks of daily life and resilience (Koren, 2008; Delorie, 2018).
This is the core of wabi-sabi. Rooted in Japanese philosophy, wabi-sabi finds beauty in imperfection (Juniper, 2003). It doesn’t hide flaws but invites a deeper appreciation of them. Imperfections are not faults; they are the traces left by life’s experiences, much like resilience, which is the ability to adapt and recover from difficulties, showing strength through challenges (Delorie, 2018).
When Things Don’t Go as Planned
Expectations often shape daily life: a project should unfold as planned, a meal should match the recipe, and mornings should go smoothly. However, life rarely aligns with these ideals. As Koren (2008) suggests, things seldom go as expected.
The chipped paint on the wall, the cluttered desk, and the laundry waiting to be folded all mark the ongoing, unpolished nature of life. Moments pass, priorities shift, and things remain unfinished (Juniper, 2003). Wabi-sabi offers a gentler perspective. It finds beauty in what already is, as it is.
Take kintsugi, for example, a practice related to wabi-sabi, which mends broken pottery by celebrating its flaws rather than hiding them (Koren, 2008). Kintsugi teaches a powerful lesson: imperfections, whether in objects or people, should not be concealed.
When a bowl cracks, the cracks are filled with gold, transforming flaws into a form of beauty. These golden seams do not mask the damage but highlight it, making the object’s history a visible part of its beauty (Koren, 2008). Cracks, whether physical or emotional, are not signs of failure.
They are marks of resilience, proof of the ability to withstand and rise above challenges. Each crack tells a story of moments that tested and reshaped a person (Delorie, 2018). Like the gold in kintsugi, these imperfections reflect growth and transformation. The beauty in mended cracks mirrors the strength that emerges from overcoming hardship (Koren, 2008; Juniper, 2003).
Looking Closer at the Little Things
A spilled coffee cup or a scar may seem like everyday occurrences, but they carry profound meaning (Delorie, 2018). A scar is not just a mark. It is a powerful symbol of survival, a record of the body’s resilience and ability to heal. Similarly, the worn cover of a favorite book shows the marks of use—how it’s been read, carried, and revisited time and again (Juniper, 2003). Even a coffee spill, frustrating as it may be, serves as a reminder that everything is fleeting (Delorie, 2018).
Juniper (2003) describes wabi-sabi as finding beauty in the “transient and incomplete.” In this context, transient refers to the temporary, ever-changing nature of things, moments, or people—recognizing that nothing lasts forever. Incomplete refers to the idea that things do not need to be perfect or finished to be valuable. Instead, wabi-sabi embraces the beauty found in imperfection and the unfinished, accepting them as part of what makes something or someone real (Koren, 2008). This philosophy encourages embracing life’s natural imperfection and change, rather than striving for perfection.
Appreciating the Everyday
Wabi-sabi draws attention to details that often go unnoticed. They remain in the background until something brings them into focus (Juniper, 2003). Imagine a wooden table, scarred by time and the marks of shared meals. Similarly, a sweater with thinning elbows still offers the same comfort it did when it was first worn.
Then there’s the mug with a chipped edge, worn down by countless mornings. These objects are not valued for meeting a standard of beauty. Their value comes from the experiences they have been part of and the connections they represent (Delorie, 2018).
This is the core of wabi-sabi. Delorie (2018) describes it as “releasing control, embracing what is, and finding gratitude in the moment.” Gratitude doesn’t need to come from something extraordinary. It can arise from something as simple as the warmth of sunlight through a smudged window or the quiet comfort of something well-used (Koren, 2008).
The Things That Hold It Together
When things don’t go as expected, frustration can take over. Wabi-sabi, however, shows there is value even in these moments, even when they seem imperfect. The chipped mug still holds coffee, and the crooked plant continues to grow. Life moves forward, despite the flaws (Juniper, 2003).
The worn mug doesn’t lose its purpose because of its imperfections. The chip is part of its story, what makes it familiar and unique. The same is true for people; the cracks and marks don’t diminish their worth. They are reminders of lessons learned, of how time has shaped them. As Koren (2008) reflects, imperfections are not flaws to hide, but parts of a story to embrace.
Life doesn’t need to be flawless to feel complete. It is the imperfections—the cracks, the disruptions—that make things meaningful and memorable.
References
- Juniper, A. (2003). Wabi Sabi: The Japanese Art of Impermanence. Tuttle Publishing.
- Koren, L. (2008). Wabi-sabi for artists, designers, poets & philosophers (Illustrated ed.). Stone Bridge Press.
- Delorie, O. L. (2018). Wabi Sabi: Finding Beauty in Imperfection. Sterling Publishing.
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