金継ぎ

In the late 15th century, during the Muromachi period, there was a shogun named Ashikaga Yoshimasa. In his possession was a Chinese tea bowl, a rare and treasured piece of ceramic. One day, this precious bowl accidentally fell and broke into pieces. So he sent it back to China for repairs.

Upon its return, he found that the mended vessel was held together with unsightly metal staples. Disappointed, yet determined to find a more elegant solution, Yoshimasa called upon Japanese craftsmen to devise a better method of repair. Eventually, a skilled artisan came up with the idea of using lacquer mixed with powdered gold to mend the broken pieces.

He admired the repaired bowl and was struck by its new appearance, where the gold veins seemed to embrace the cracks like shimmering scars. This technique¹ not only repaired the bowl but also added a new dimension of beauty and value to it.

I see scars and stretch marks in a similar way. You get scars when your body repairs the wound on your skin. Similarly, stretch marks—also a form of scarring—usually occur when your skin stretches rapidly.

When I see scars on someone, I’m not put off by it. If anything, your scars tell a story. Maybe you got them when you got injured while serving your country. Or perhaps, you got them because you rapidly lost weight. Maybe you got them during your pregnancy.

Did you know your navel² is also a form of a scar?

Your body is some of the most exceptionally engineered works on this Earth. If you ever get injured, in four stages³, it will turn your injury into a scar. That scar will serve as a reminder that life tried to break you, but it failed. Rather than something to disguise, or look at in disgust, treat this breakage and repair as part of your imperfections.

Scars are beautiful. Stretch marks are beautiful. Your imperfections make you perfect.