I was in Tombolo Books in downtown St. Pete when my ex insisted I buy something. Supporting local independent bookstores, and all that.
So I hurriedly grabbed a book that looked interesting, checked out, and forgot about it.
Wabi-Sabi for Artists, Designers, Poets and Philosophers.
I never read it, and yet it somehow made the cut of books that followed me across the ocean to Portugal. I never read it, that is, until today.
Wabi-sabi (not to be confused with wasabi, dear sushi lovers) is a Japanese aesthetic of beauty associated with impermanence, imperfection and incompletion.
I had a vague understanding of wabi-sabi as a reverence for ordinary, mundane or even broken things. Like kintsugi, the art of repairing shattered pottery with gold lacquer to reveal its beauty through the cracks.
It turns out my understanding of wabi-sabi is incomplete by design.
From the book:
When asked what wabi-sabi is, most Japanese wil shake their head, hesitate, and offer a few apologetic words about how difficult it is to explain. Although almost every Japanese will claim to understand the feeling of wabi-sabi – it is, after all, supposed to be one of the core concepts of Japanese culture – very few can articulate this feeling.
This is not an accident. Throughout history a rational understanding of wabi-sabi has been intentionally thwarted.
Wabi-sabi was originally practiced by tea masters, priests and monks all steeped in Zen Buddhism and the belief that the nature of things cannot be described with words or grasped by the intellect.
Wabi-sabi is “the Zen of things.” You don’t understand it – you feel it.
How do you teach the unspeakable?
Imagine you’re at your first dance class. They turn off the lights. The music starts playing and you’re asked to move.
You know nothing about rhythm, steps or style. You have to feel your way around the room and slowly discover movements through the pulse of music in your body.
That’s what it’s like to learn through a feeling.
As expressed in Zen:
“Those who know don’t say; those who say don’t know.”
Or from the Tao:
“The Tao that can be named is not the eternal Tao.”
Wabi-sabi isn’t something you “get” intellectually. Neither is the experience of truth.
There is a feel you get for something only by experiencing it. You can’t learn it from a book or by watching an expert. It comes directly from the thing itself, and it’s more powerful than any conceptual understanding.
Like the moment a cook adds the perfect spice without measuring. Or when a parent understands the exact meaning of their child’s gibberish. Or you just know when your dog needs to go out.
The deepest truths cannot be explained; they can only be felt.
Thought has a feeling as it moves through us. But then there is the feeling of what lies beneath or before that thought. It’s in the quiet of nothing much on your mind.
This feeling is indescribable.
Some call it peace, love, joy, contentment. I’ll keep it simple and all it a “nice feeling” for now.
This nice feeling contains everything.
Every feeling we could wish for, the answer to every question, the essence of life itself. It exists before words and concepts.
And it’s always there, beneath the swirl of thoughts, waiting for you to notice.
You can feel it right now.
Close your eyes and let your thoughts settle.
Sense the stillness beneath the noise of thought.
That’s it.
You might hang out here just a little longer, and see what happens. ✨
This is what I’m guiding people to in my work and play as a coach – not a better mindset or a smarter strategy. The nice feeling of who you really are.
It’s the thing you already have that you couldn’t lose, even if you tried.
The beauty of wabi-sabi is the beauty of a human life.
You. Just as you are.
Yours in love and play,
Steph
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