Present suffering is not enjoyable, but life would be worth little without it. The difference between iron and steel is fire, but steel is worth all it costs. Iron ore may think itself senselessly tortured in the furnace, but when the watch-spring looks back, it knows better.
-Maltbie Davenport Babcock
I once read that when Japanese artisans’ repair shattered items they fill in the cracks with whisper thin lines of gold. They make no attempt to return the object to its earlier incarnation - the resurrected piece forever carries a tracework of golden lines. At first blush the painstaking process might seem like a colossal waste of time and treasure, but there is a subtle lesson to be learned from the artist’s careful labor. When the Japanese see the subtle web of golden lines crease an object they see the damage for what it really is – the physical manifestation of the items unique history. And it is that history that makes the object rare and beautiful.
A few days ago my path seemed brilliantly clear, but as sometimes happens a fork appeared in the road. At first I was stunned that the map I was following no longer matched the terrain. Anger followed a half step behind, and for a few hours I silently raged with a fury that matched the superheated atmosphere. What quenched the flames was a simple but universal truth - sometimes you can’t have what you want. When that happens you can succumb to bitterness and screech at the heavens at the change in circumstance or you can pick up the pieces and move forward. Since I’ve never been big on wallowing in pity I decided to move out. I’m not sure where this new path will lead, but if I fall again I’ll just get back up and continue forward.
When we leave this careworn outpost I imagine more then a few hearts will carry shimmering veins of gold. I know mine will. But that won’t necessarily be a bad thing. It just means we will be unique. And beautiful.
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