I
hear the term wabi-sabi describing the ambiance of a space or, more
often, old, interesting, fading, peeling, wonderful objects. At its
heart, wabi-sabi is the gift of finding beauty in imperfection and
complexity in nature, of acknowledging the natural cycle of growth,
decay, and death. It reveres authenticity and celebrates the blemishes
and wrinkles that time, weather, and loving use create. Through
wabi-sabi, we learn to embrace liver spots, rust, and frayed edges, and
the march of time they represent. It reminds us that we are transient
beings and our bodies and the world around us are returning to the dust
from which we came.
As I prepare to roll forward both digits in my age once again, I am feeling a bit wabi-sabi.
As I prepare to roll forward both digits in my age once again, I am feeling a bit wabi-sabi.