The Japanese term kintsugi (which I’ve read means to join with gold) is currently popular in the culture. It is the art of repairing broken pottery with lacquer or gold dust, creating an object whose brokenness contributes to its beauty. I wonder if this kind of meeting someone, holding space for them, being seen by them, and exchanging stories is how we practice kintsugi for people.
This unexpected connection shows how meeting new people can beautifully help and enrich each other's lives in surprising ways. Thank you for sharing this Priya, a reflection of our Substack journey.
Richard, I have another Substack where I am serializing my novel and in this week’s chapter, snails figured prominently for precisely this reason. Thank you, it’s a beautiful image!
Chance encounters are never chance encounters, they are God sent. I hope your new friendship contributes to more beauty in each other's lives! Thank you for sharing and making us think, Priya.
Anu, thank you for reading! There are no chance encounters, I guess! And yes, it’s wonderful to make new friends and have it deepen/ ripen into meaningful relationships.
Broken, made beautiful. We practice for others, and they practice for us. We practice together, celebrating the imperfection and finding the gold and glory within the cracks. What a wonderful thought, Priya!
Many of my teahead friends have had their teaware fixed through kintsugi. Sometimes their own handiwork, other times treated by a specialist. Either way, mended with care and attention, living a renewed and golden life.
I believe we're all given to each other to learn and have fun together. I always enjoy reading your writing Priya, gratitude for this one too♥️🙏🕊️ (p.s. now I'm curious where you live😁)
Priya, this may be--to me-- your most beautiful post yet. What an incredible story, overlapping lives, and the meaning, if there is one, in that. Food for thoughtful thought! Thanks for this. I'll ponder it on my own walk today. Kudos!
Jeanine, I’m glad the story resonated with you. There was this moment when it felt like I was walking on a giant infinity symbol and I’d arrived right at the intersection point. Thank you for reading!
This is SO fascinating. Love that you have met and the way your friendship is unlocking such profound thinking.
As a side note, I love the scene you set in the waiting room … I have a notion to use it as a prompt for a short fiction. The premise is delicious and brimful of possibilities. I will print it and pop it into the new notebook I treated myself to for ‘prompts’. As I hit the first anniversary of ‘Just Write, Right’ this feels providential.
Barrie, I would love to read a story from that prompt. Old-fashioned railway waiting rooms are such potent symbols. Congratulations on the anniversary! I read the latest story and it was such a well-crafted piece! Thank you for reading and for sharing!
A story popped to mind … I’ll find some time to write it (probably to coincide with Wednesday’s anniversary). And thank you so much. Kind words. Every writer needs readers and I am always thrilled when someone peeks in.
Priya, you are so talented with imagery. Love how you described the "waiting room at a small out-of-the-way train station late in the evening in the middle of nowhere in the depths of winter. The room is warm, a fire blazing in the fireplace, and you’re glad to have found shelter" -- it really captures the relationship.
And thank you for sharing "kintsugi"! I looked up some images; although it makes broken pieces of pottery beautiful, I'm sure the kintsugi between people is even more beautiful :)
I'm so curious which circumstances refer to you and which refer to Reena, haha!
Hi Priya, what's particularly thought-provoking is the notion of "practicing kintsugi for people" through genuine connection and storytelling. It implies that by truly seeing and acknowledging each other's experiences, we can help mend the broken pieces and celebrate the beauty in imperfection. It's heart-warming that our scars and vulnerabilities contribute to our unique beauty and resilience.
You said it so well, Mohika! I think we seek permission for our scars even as we know they’re inescapable. Who better to offer softness and healing than fellow travelers?
Sanskriti, thank you for reading! I grew up in the time of old-fashioned waiting rooms in train stations and have found them to be places where magic can happen. And, coincidentally, Reena’s Substack is called Arrivals and Departures. I love that you found those exact words!
Long time ago I needed get from one spot in Midwest USA to another, eight hours distant. I boarded an intercity bus at 11 pm, hoping I'd be able to sleep a bit on the journey.
The only available seat was next to a young woman, perhaps in her very early twenties. I sat down and exchanged greetings. She mentioned she was mid-way in traveling to a new chapter in her life. She shared that she grew in a remote place overseas with no electricity. Her parents were missionaries - she and her brother were home-schooled.
At age fifteen her parents accepted an assignment back in the USA and she was enrolled in school in the tenth grade. I imagined that must have been like falling from the moon! What a culture shock! I essentially interviewed this lovely young woman for hours. She had the most perceptive insights about the perverse aspects of our culture. It was such a joy to speak with her and see through her experience.
At dawn the bud arrived at my destination. The young woman was continuing further. A few people got off the bus when I did. After getting off, a woman who also got off said "you were so lucky to be able to sit next to a close friend and have someone to talk with."
I've reflected on that woman's comment for years, and her amazement when learning that I had talked all night to a stranger. Perhaps the drop of inhibition when traveling is a gift when talking privately to someone you'll likely never see again.
Are we not but one consciousness, experiencing this physical realm in billions of identities? The space between us is really imagined.
I read your comment first thing on Sunday morning and I can’t get over the beauty (the truth) of “ Are we not but one consciousness, experiencing this physical realm in billions of identities? The space between us is really imagined.” Maybe there are no serendipitous encounters. Instead it’s just knowing ourselves repeatedly. Thank you, Richard.
This unexpected connection shows how meeting new people can beautifully help and enrich each other's lives in surprising ways. Thank you for sharing this Priya, a reflection of our Substack journey.
Tinashe, thank you for reading! I agree! Meeting new people can set us off on new areas of growth.
it is 100% how we practice. this is a very thoughtful post
@perfectlight, yes, and the older I get, the more precious these interactions become. Thank you for reading and for sharing!
my pleasure, my dear
The circles are spirals for ever reaching out, growing new rings like a 🐌 snail shell.
Richard, I have another Substack where I am serializing my novel and in this week’s chapter, snails figured prominently for precisely this reason. Thank you, it’s a beautiful image!
The nautilus speaks whorls of words silently spoken to ears that may listen.
That is poetry!
Chance encounters are never chance encounters, they are God sent. I hope your new friendship contributes to more beauty in each other's lives! Thank you for sharing and making us think, Priya.
Anu, thank you for reading! There are no chance encounters, I guess! And yes, it’s wonderful to make new friends and have it deepen/ ripen into meaningful relationships.
Broken, made beautiful. We practice for others, and they practice for us. We practice together, celebrating the imperfection and finding the gold and glory within the cracks. What a wonderful thought, Priya!
Many of my teahead friends have had their teaware fixed through kintsugi. Sometimes their own handiwork, other times treated by a specialist. Either way, mended with care and attention, living a renewed and golden life.
Martin, I love the idea that beauty is in the brokenness and that those places are where we connect with people. Thank you for reading!
I believe we're all given to each other to learn and have fun together. I always enjoy reading your writing Priya, gratitude for this one too♥️🙏🕊️ (p.s. now I'm curious where you live😁)
I agree, Camilla! I love the phrase “we’re given to each other!” Thank you for reading and for your support!
Priya, this may be--to me-- your most beautiful post yet. What an incredible story, overlapping lives, and the meaning, if there is one, in that. Food for thoughtful thought! Thanks for this. I'll ponder it on my own walk today. Kudos!
Jeanine, I’m glad the story resonated with you. There was this moment when it felt like I was walking on a giant infinity symbol and I’d arrived right at the intersection point. Thank you for reading!
Great image, Priya!!
There’s no such thing as coincidence. You were meant to connect. What a wonderful story of two talented writers!
Carissa, thank you for reading! I agree, it felt like much more than mere coincidence.
I love kintsugi. I am kintsugi.
Yes, we are. I agree!
This is SO fascinating. Love that you have met and the way your friendship is unlocking such profound thinking.
As a side note, I love the scene you set in the waiting room … I have a notion to use it as a prompt for a short fiction. The premise is delicious and brimful of possibilities. I will print it and pop it into the new notebook I treated myself to for ‘prompts’. As I hit the first anniversary of ‘Just Write, Right’ this feels providential.
Barrie, I would love to read a story from that prompt. Old-fashioned railway waiting rooms are such potent symbols. Congratulations on the anniversary! I read the latest story and it was such a well-crafted piece! Thank you for reading and for sharing!
A story popped to mind … I’ll find some time to write it (probably to coincide with Wednesday’s anniversary). And thank you so much. Kind words. Every writer needs readers and I am always thrilled when someone peeks in.
Priya, you are so talented with imagery. Love how you described the "waiting room at a small out-of-the-way train station late in the evening in the middle of nowhere in the depths of winter. The room is warm, a fire blazing in the fireplace, and you’re glad to have found shelter" -- it really captures the relationship.
And thank you for sharing "kintsugi"! I looked up some images; although it makes broken pieces of pottery beautiful, I'm sure the kintsugi between people is even more beautiful :)
I'm so curious which circumstances refer to you and which refer to Reena, haha!
Anna, so good to hear from you! I guess I wanted to keep the mystery of who’s who! We can talk about it when we meet up.
Thank you for reading and I’m glad the words resonated with you.
Hi Priya, what's particularly thought-provoking is the notion of "practicing kintsugi for people" through genuine connection and storytelling. It implies that by truly seeing and acknowledging each other's experiences, we can help mend the broken pieces and celebrate the beauty in imperfection. It's heart-warming that our scars and vulnerabilities contribute to our unique beauty and resilience.
You said it so well, Mohika! I think we seek permission for our scars even as we know they’re inescapable. Who better to offer softness and healing than fellow travelers?
Thank you for reading!
Such a fascinating take! Love the image of that room where the paths of arriving and departing travellers intersect :)
Sanskriti, thank you for reading! I grew up in the time of old-fashioned waiting rooms in train stations and have found them to be places where magic can happen. And, coincidentally, Reena’s Substack is called Arrivals and Departures. I love that you found those exact words!
Love the train station imagery. So hopefully eerie. Gives me If On a Winter’s Night a Traveler Chapter 1 vibes
Thank you for reading, Resident20some! I missed responding to this earlier.
Long time ago I needed get from one spot in Midwest USA to another, eight hours distant. I boarded an intercity bus at 11 pm, hoping I'd be able to sleep a bit on the journey.
The only available seat was next to a young woman, perhaps in her very early twenties. I sat down and exchanged greetings. She mentioned she was mid-way in traveling to a new chapter in her life. She shared that she grew in a remote place overseas with no electricity. Her parents were missionaries - she and her brother were home-schooled.
At age fifteen her parents accepted an assignment back in the USA and she was enrolled in school in the tenth grade. I imagined that must have been like falling from the moon! What a culture shock! I essentially interviewed this lovely young woman for hours. She had the most perceptive insights about the perverse aspects of our culture. It was such a joy to speak with her and see through her experience.
At dawn the bud arrived at my destination. The young woman was continuing further. A few people got off the bus when I did. After getting off, a woman who also got off said "you were so lucky to be able to sit next to a close friend and have someone to talk with."
I've reflected on that woman's comment for years, and her amazement when learning that I had talked all night to a stranger. Perhaps the drop of inhibition when traveling is a gift when talking privately to someone you'll likely never see again.
Are we not but one consciousness, experiencing this physical realm in billions of identities? The space between us is really imagined.
I read your comment first thing on Sunday morning and I can’t get over the beauty (the truth) of “ Are we not but one consciousness, experiencing this physical realm in billions of identities? The space between us is really imagined.” Maybe there are no serendipitous encounters. Instead it’s just knowing ourselves repeatedly. Thank you, Richard.
I very much enjoy reading your posts. You write so clearly with such depth.
Great read
John, thank you for reading! I’m glad you liked it.