Wabi Sabi

Before leaving for this contest, I preened myself before the mirror, sucked in my stomach turned this way and that, brushed my hair a bit, and was left unsatisfied. I was not perfectly groomed or the Adonis I wanted to be.

I was imperfect – I could see the grays shining through the black, the stubble that missed the  razor, the pimple below my eye,  My four pack abs, and the shadows below my eyes. I was disappointed.

I could also see tension on my face, as I could not remember for the life of me, all that I had practiced the previous evening for today’s speech. I was still uncertain of how I’ll perform – I wanted to be perfect, but I knew I was not, and it upset me.

I stepped out of the house onto the interlocks that adorned the front of my compound and… noticed the two or three chipped blocks that for me stood out among the rest.

I was even more upset, when after I started my bike, I would that the mirror on my left handle had a crack in it and my face was showing up in duplicate. I’ve always liked my vehicle to be perfect, and I made a mental note to have it repaired.

At home too, I often see imperfections everyday, a finger print stained wall, a scrappy sofa that has seen our life’s ups and downs, peeling paint in some locations, a little dampness in the corner of the roof and the like.

I find my own missing tiles in what others have and I don’t - a bigger car, a perfect body a better voice and better speech!

The result – I  am generally upset and unhappy.

Then I learned about the Japanese concept of wabisabi, or “imperfect beauty.” The concept has its roots in the traditional Japanese tea ceremony and is sometimes explained by using the example of a well-loved teacup, made by an artist’s hands, cracked or chipped by use. Such traces remind the observer that nothing is permanent — even fixed objects are subject to change.

The Japanese philosophy celebrates beauty in what's natural, flaws and all. The antique bowls above are prized because of (not in spite of) their drips and cracks. What if we learned to prize the drips and cracks in our messy lives? 

The classical Greek ideal of beauty, which underpins much of the Western physical aesthetic, celebrates smooth, symmetrical perfection. Wabi Sabi prizes authenticity. 

The cracks in the old teacup are seen as assets rather than flaws.  Robyn Griggs Lawrence, author of Simply Imperfect: Revisiting the Wabi-Sabi House (New Society Publishers, 2011). “It’s the true acceptance of finding beauty in things as they are.”

In India, most of us grew up with a worldview that is decidedly more influenced by the West. Unless our bodies fit a certain ideal, we resent them. In our culture, "We're brought up to strive for the best, the brightest, and most extraordinary, be it marks or  career or even marriage.

This is where adopting a wabi-sabi outlook can be eye opening — and mind opening.

By perceiving ourselves through this generous lens, we can stop endlessly striving for the ideal body and focus instead on real physical health. All it takes is a shift in perception.

I no longer consider all the flaws I see in myself or things around me as imperfections that must be expunged, obliterated or even covered.

Abandoning "Perfect"

I think of the paraphernalia my young daughter used to  pick up on our walks in Cubbon  Park in blore, things I stopped noticing long ago -- discarded feathers, stones worn shiny by water. They're drawn to these treasures for their expressive textures, shapes, and colors, each thing unique in the world. So miraculous just the way they are, and yet so simple.

It may not be natural to us to seek pleasure in a Japanese concept that celebrates rust. But all it needs is acceptance of the imperfect – It gives you a freedom you cant even imagine! The suffering comes when there’s a craving for it to be different.”

And Braver souls sometimes turn their so-called imperfections into signatures. “Ask yourself: What can you find beautiful about what you’re now calling a flaw? And could you embrace that?” suggests Arielle Ford, - take for instance a mole on the face or upper lip. A grey beard, because u cant use color.

ACCEPTING CHANGE

“Beautiful young people are accidents of nature,” said Eleanor Roosevelt, “but beautiful old people are works of art.”

This is good for me to remember, as I note that in addition to the wrinkles around my eyes, aging is also apparent in my hands. The skin is becoming thinner, making the veins and bones more prominent, revealing tiny cracks along the skin’s surface.

That said, I’m not ready to even imagine not dyeing my hair. Yet many men fearlessly embrace their silver strands.

I recall that as I was leaving the house on my bike,  I ran across an old lady from Gadag. She stays at our house, along with her daughter, grand daughter and great grand daughter and I was struck by her serenity in comparison to mine.

Her face was lined, having weathered many storms, but I detected a strange beauty in her something I could now recognize because I had learned Wabi Sabi.

I had found my missing tiles and though they were not perfect, they fit perfectly and that was good enough for me!