A kintsugi kind of love
How the Japanese art of 'golden joinery' is teaching me the value of relationship repair
If you enjoy the kind of deep-sensing, heart-centered, somatic-inspired writings I share here, please consider becoming a paid subscriber in order to support my work. For the price of about one cup of tea, you can receive 3-4 additional columns each month, join the intimate community of readers that can comment on all columns AND access all of the past writings and resources I’ve shared In All Honesty.
I made a mistake. I messed up. I didn’t mean to hurt my husband’s feelings, but I botched that interaction, and things didn’t go to plan, and that moment of connection that I had envisioned in my mind has now slipped away forever.
A pulsating sensation blooms in the lower left quadrant of my abdomen whenever I think of how I made a mistake. And since I can’t stop thinking about how I’ve made a mistake, I become intimately acquainted with this sensation. It’s uncomfortable, and it lingers, and soon, I realize what I’m facing.
This is where Shame lives in my body. Hello.
Seeing my husband’s downtrodden face fills me with remorse for the hand I had in his sadness.
I notice a sense of urgency. In fact, this feels like some kind of emotional emergency.
I must do something to smooth things over, and erase the mistake from our history books. Maybe then, we can move forward, striking the mistake from our mutual memory.
“What can I do to make amends?” I ask.