Kintsugi, my heart

I don’t play with love. That is like licking honey from a razor. But sometimes it is difficult to avoid scarring even when the honey trickles down easy from a spoon.

Like my recent breakup.

So, I am a little cut up right now. No really, it’s OK. Smiley face. Keeping busy the way us guys know to do. Making great progress on the yurt project. Celebrating the full moon with friends. Dancing as ever.

But still cut up, and sadness oozing (isn't that a weird and uncomfortable word?!) into my quiet moments with a kind of sweetness, a slow lava flow into the crater of my chest. In moments like that I hear myself loving on me. You are doing so well I say. The grief is about love remember? You got this my beloved.

Much as I’d want to stay the hard times and invest more in this relationship, the uncoupling process is on track, and not to be missed. Reminds me of the Japanese practice of Kintsugi, that uses gold to repair broken pottery. Those scars enhance the design. And the pieces get put together meditatively, slowly, with the occasional aha moment that renders me a little more aware, broken open and whole at the same time.