Websites and wabi sabi
No one warned me that building a website would be soul-work.
I’m ambivalent about technology, so I knew it wouldn’t be my comfort zone. But I didn’t expect a flare-up of issues I thought I had dealt with: insecurities about how I come across to others.
And crippling perfectionism.
So, when I read the subtitle of this book in the Tate Britain gift shop it caught my attention: “Japanese wisdom for a perfectly imperfect life.”
I hesitated. The exhibition had already helped me; I wasn’t looking for anything else. And I always pause when I’m considering opening up to thoughts from outside of my foundational paradigm – I check to see if I’m nudged forward by a sense of peace.
I’m so glad I let this book into my life.
Not all of it feels resonant, but the section that’s helped me the most is summed up in this quote:
“One of the core teachings of wabi sabi is the acceptance of the true nature of life: everything is impermanent, imperfect and incomplete.”
So often I find myself straining against that reality. Declaring everything imperfect and incomplete initially seems at odds with a faith rooted in the concept of salvation (meaning restored wholeness).
But, as I’ve sat with it, I’ve noticed how much of the Bible also speaks to the fact that, here and now, our experience of wholeness will always be a work in progress.
Whenever I’ve used that phrase in the past, it’s always been with an element of shame – “forgive me, I’m a work in progress”. An admission of failure. And whenever I’ve heard it used to describe the trajectory of some systemic change I’m passionate about, it’s always felt like an excuse.
Looking from the new vantage offered to me by this book is like seeing through a kaleidoscope – a beautiful shift in perspective, saturating the concept of imperfection in vibrant colours I’ve previously missed.
Imperfection is not a flaw to be tolerated: it’s the essential precursor to growth. Imperfection is the reason we can evolve and change “from glory to glory” (as the New Testament describes spiritual growth).
As long as our bodies and our endeavours are alive, there will always be room for improvement.
But that’s a truly good thing.
