Where I Belong (Kintsugi)

Where do I belong? Do I belong?— To fit in agreement, likeness. A sense of wholeness— I’m alien to it. Unfamiliarity. How can I belong when I am not whole? I’m broken. If I’m broken then I don’t even belong to myself…right? Not whole, not complete. Imperfect. Flawed. But maybe that’s the point? I belong in the brokenness-that-pieces-my-life-together.
The cracks
that outline brokenness
is where I exist.
And maybe the best part about being broken is that I can be mended? Sure, cracks don’t fade, but that’s the point. I belong in those precious cracks. Valuable. As dense as gold. Gold-filled cracks. Kintsugi- I’m like the gold used to repair broken pottery in Japanese art. When I reflect on the moments in my life where life itself was a crushing pressure, I see that even those heavy moments weren’t powerful enough to permanently disassemble me. Yes, those parts did shatter me like broken glass, but I look at the cracks in my life that resulted from that brokenness. They now shine like gold. It’s because of those cracks that I am who I am. And that’s the beauty found in brokenness: tough moments create sharp cracks, but the gold in life mends brokenness.
I belong in brokenness.

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