Humorous discoveries

I feel like this adds to my argument that the definition of wabisabi should involve humor.

One of the people I have been reading lately in my journey to understand what I’m doing in trying to create a business is Seth Godin.

I won’t recommend a particular book, as I’ve only read 4 or 5, but every one that I’ve read I would recommend. I feel like there are decent odds that most, if not all, of his other books are similarly worth reading.

The one I was reading yesterday was Purple Cow.

I don’t think I had heard of him in a memorably meaningful way when I started making kintsugi, or started this website and business, but I have read people that mentioned him in the past few months, which is why I started buying his books, and it’s possible that other people I have read mentioned him as well.

But many of my thoughts about kintsugi are basically thoughts about a purple cow. Something relatively ordinary that has become extraordinary in some way. Something that is extraordinary enough that people talk about it simply because it is extraordinary.

And a vase for flowers may be quite nice, it may be beautiful. But it is very rarely extraordinary.

A kintsugi vase, however, is extraordinary. It’s extraordinary in appearance, whether it is faux kintsugi or true kintsugi. But the story of it, the explanation of it becomes much more extraordinary. Especially if it is true kintsugi. “Glued together with poisonous lacquer and then gold dust? Where did you get that? How did you find that?” And so on.

And while that does make me realize that I need to seriously spend some more time getting things made and put onto this website, which is a delightful thought, there was a specific paragraph near the end of Purple Cow that made me laugh out loud.

“Other than its much fabled open-source origins, why does Linux have such a following? One reason is that becoming a Linux user requires a real commitment. Linux is hard to install, hard to use without a lot of practice, and not easy to integrate into a traditional corporate environment. All of these hurdles, though, created a devoted and loyal core. This group realized that as they got more and more people to invest their time in using and supporting the product, the operating system would get better, investments would be made in software and user interfaces, and internal issues would disappear. The flaws in the product itself created an asset.”

That is the best explanation I’ve ever read of why I use Linux.

And it is a great explanation of kintsugi and wabisabi as well.

A broken vase is just trash to most people. You can’t use it anymore. You might injure yourself if you try to. But if you are willing to take the time and spend money on the materials involved, the vase can become functional again, and become more beautiful and valuable in the process.

If your heart has ever been broken, dear reader, and I assume that it has, as you did the work on yourself to forgive the original damage and move past it, didn’t your heart, and your self, become more beautiful and valuable in the process?