The Kintsugi Phoenix
I had a dream that I was being followed around by a phoenix. But this wasn’t the kind of phoenix you might typically imagine.
It was calm and quiet, just standing by me wherever I went. It was only about the size of a parrot and instead of being a fiery red color, it was a deep, dark green. And it was covered in cracks all over its body, but those cracks appeared to be made of gold, like they were gilded.
It looked a lot like kintsugi, the Japanese art of fixing broken pottery with decorative materials and turning flaws into beautiful and unique adornments.
We always think of a phoenix as this majestic, mythical creature that dramatically bursts into flames and is completely reborn from the ashes into something brand new. But that’s not really how life works, is it? It’s never that clean or convenient. It’s rarely that theatrical or sudden or even that deep or profound. We never truly get a blank slate.
So maybe we each have our own personal phoenix, and they look like the one from my dream. Not ostentatious, but subtle and dignified. Not bursting into flames, but losing pieces and chips. A little bit at a time. Sometimes being shattered completely.
Never being reborn fresh as a perfect new creature with a blank slate, but rather being put back together meticulously and carefully. Being repaired and gaining a new mark or crack because of it. A crack that serves as a reminder of a lesson learned. An experience lived. A struggle overcome.
A crack that shows your strength while reminding you of your vulnerability. A fracture that turns into a beautiful decoration, a gilded scar that makes every phoenix unique. One that gives everyone their own story to tell. Their own mementos of a life lived. Their own lessons to share.
A scar that isn’t a symbol of pain, but one of hope and healing. A reminder that we don’t actually even want a blank slate.
Then again? Maybe it was just a dream.
