The Broken Cup
One frosty November morning, I dragged myself out of bed in the heavy darkness which seems to linger before the equinox to face the world and most importantly, to make some coffee. As I was cleaning out my favourite coffee cup my mind had already drifted away to think about the day ahead, then as I went to turn and start actually making some coffee I knocked my cup onto the floor. As if in slow motion I tried to catch it as if I was Mr Miagi, but unfortunately it seems those reactions only turn up after I've had some coffee, and the cup hit the kitchen floor and broken into several pieces.
The sounds and sights involved in something like that breaking felt quite emotional, sure it was just a cup but it was my favourite cup and now it was no longer usable. I felt a bit of grief for the cup which was very weird. How can such a small item create such a strong emotional reaction? Sleepiness definitely played a part, but also my first reaction was that because the cup was broken it was now gone, my favourite cup which I used everyday was unusable and destined for the bin.
As I collected up the pieces and placed them on the table, I started to actually drink some coffee and come round to a different way of thinking. The Japan principle of kintsugi, recognising the beauty in repair, making those repairs part of the story of the item rather than trying to hide them, came to mind. I sat there resolving to fix the cup and make it usable again,but more than that I wanted to make it more beautiful, more meaningful and more valuable than it was before it abruptly met the wooden parquet flooring.
As I went through the process of gently and slowly repairing the cup that night it made me reflect more broadly on the connection to the things we have around us, what do we choose to place value in which may not have pure economic value. Spending two hours fixing something that is in theory, easily replaceable, doesn't make sense from a purely economic standpoints and yet that didn't stop me. Partly because I like a challenge but also because I like to think there are many ways in which we could change seemingly small decisions to move towards a more gentle and lighter way of being in the world. Making the most of the resources we draw from mother nature and our fellow global neighbours.
Most of the current dominant cultural and economic nattarive pushes people towards a disposable, replaceable and wasteful way of being. Visual messaging is a bombardment of reinforcement of the view that beauty is to be found in the new, the novel, the untarnished or the worst of all, old.
And yet a shift appears to be happening, albeit at a slow pace, one where more and more people are recognising not just the economic value of their items and surroundings but the emotional value held within the stories of some of the most valuable things in our lives. I enjoy being part of that shift and helping people to repair and restore their home.
