Broken Vessels

It’s a mess.

Hmmm, yes. I have to agree. 

I don’t know how I can fix it. 

Well, you have glue and time. 

……!

What?

Glue and time? I think it will take more than that. Even if I had baling wire and duct tape, I couldn’t fix it!

Don’t be silly. Duct tape can fix anything.

Are you serious?

No, but I can see you are. Why don’t we just pick up the pieces and put them in this box? 

Ah. Good idea. We can bury it in the backyard.

Oh … well, no, that’s not what I had in mind. I thought we could put it here on the shelf until you’re feeling less stressed. Then, we can sit down together and put it back together. 

Will I ever be “less stressed”? I can’t remember how that feels. Besides, broken is broken. Even if I could put back together, it wouldn’t be the same. 

Nothing is ever the same once it’s broken. We can mend it, patch it, glue it … even duct tape it. In the end, well, you get it. 

….

Something is going on up there, in that head of yours. 

No. I’m just disappointed. I really liked it. I always felt cheerful when I saw it. And now I don’t. 

You can throw it away, if you’d like. Find something to replace it. 

No. {sigh} 

Well?

We have to mend it. Somehow, put it back together. 

So it matters to you?

Well, not really. But I suspect it matters to you. So, it has to be mended. No one knows it’s broken but me. 

In Japan, they repair things using gold, silver, or platinum. It’s called Kintsugi, and it means golden joinery.

I’ve seen it. It can be beautiful. 

Yes. This ancient Japanese art of mending broken objects with gold is symbolic of embracing our struggles and repairing ourselves with love. 

I don’t have any gold, silver, or platinum. 

Oh, I think we can find some. I have pots of the stuff.

I don’t know … 

Embracing our struggles, our brokenness. That's what this is about. And repairing that brokenness with love.

What if this doesn’t work?

Brokenness mended with gold? Why wouldn’t it? We can’t remake the vessel because it’s hardened. But, we can take a broken vessel and mend the cracks and restore its beauty and usefulness. I like that idea.

Well … OK. But … could you do the repairs? I don’t know where to start.

I started weeks ago. 

#ConversationWithHim

Piece of Cake

I must be getting old.

Why do you think that?

I don't like change.

Ah....

What's that supposed to mean?

Nothing. Just understanding.

You don't like change either?

Nope.

Ah....

I presume that you have a point?

.......... I find my ideas about certain things have shifted. Changed, I guess, you'd say. But that feels too strong a word. And it makes me feel old.

......

You know, I don't think happiness is what we think it is.

Really!

{sigh} No.

So... what is it? 

I'm not sure I know actually but I'm pretty certain that real happiness is something you feel even when you feel like . . . horrible.

Hmmm, that's an interesting concept.

{sigh} Not really. Please don't raise your eyes like that. No telling what could happen.

What do you mean?

I mean anyone who can snap his fingers and create the world... well, what havoc might raising your brows cause?

Ah ...I never thought of it that way. I didn't actually snap my fingers, you know. I did a bit more work than that. But let's get back to your idea.

I'm pretty sure that our perception of happiness is . . . well, a fabrication.

You mean a lie?

Well, no, yes, kind of....

.......

I think somewhere along the way we've been taught or convinced ourselves that happiness is  . . . well, like a present that someone hands us and we unwrap it and inside is exactly what we've been wanting.

Happiness?

No, no, no. I can't explain it. Think of it this way. There is a beautiful box with our name on it. We get so excited and bubble over with what we call joy. Someone hands the box to us and the feeling grows. We open it and it grows even more. Inside is what we've always wanted and we almost explode with happiness at this point. The whole process is what we perceive as happiness. If someone smashes the gift, takes it away from us, or tells us it was a mistake we perceive that as an absence of happiness.

Sadness.

Yes.

And you think this is all a fabrication?

I think it is a construct of our own making. We create this idea of happiness and it is wrong. Real happiness isn't fleeting. Real happiness isn't transitional.  It remains. As long as we allow it.

How?

Well.... I don't know. I don't know what brings it. I don't know how to keep it. And I don't know what makes it leave. Yet.

I see. You're optimistic.

Not usually.

How did you arrive at this ... conclusion?

That's strange.

Some folks think these conversations are strange. Humor me.

Despite being ill for weeks, having people annoyed at me, dealing with situations that frustrate me, and being very tired I feel something I can't explain. I feel . . .

Happy?

This will sound crazy, too, but I don't like that word.

Explain.

Because I think it is a lie. It isn't a real thing at all. It is just a word we give to express a feeling that is temporary and ephemeral. What I feel I'm afraid to call happy.

That is interesting. What would you call it?

I'm not sure there is a word. Let's just say there is something inside me . . . singing.

Singing?

Yes. That's as close as I can come. But I don't feel "good". I'm kind of bummed, in fact. But it is like my brain isn't getting it.

Hmmmm...... 

I told you, crazy.

I think you should keep thinking this way. 

I think I'm going to get a piece of cake.

#ConversationsWithHim