Picture this: a group of product managers, designers, and engineers huddled together, holding broken pieces of plates, looking like we just survived a wild office party gone wrong. No, we didn’t have an epic ceramic-throwing contest (though that’s not a bad idea). Instead, we were diving headfirst into the art of Kintsugi, and let me tell you, it was as hilarious as it was enlightening.
For those who haven’t heard of Kintsugi, it’s the Japanese art of repairing broken pottery with gold, silver, or platinum. The idea is not to hide the cracks but to highlight them, embracing the beauty of imperfection. And that’s where wabi-sabi comes in—a philosophy that finds beauty in the imperfect, the transient, and the incomplete. Basically, it’s the Marie Kondo method for your soul: if it doesn’t spark joy, appreciate its cracks and fill them with gold.
Setting the Scene
Imagine a room at Canva filled with nervous laughter, the occasional “Oops, I broke it more,” and a lot of “Is this how you hold a brush?” We had all the essentials: broken plates, gold lacquer, brushes, and a hefty dose of enthusiasm (and caffeine). As the designated MC and accidental Kintsugi expert, I kicked things off with a brief introduction to wabi-sabi.
Wabi-Sabi 101: The Beauty of Imperfection
I explained to my subscriptions team that wabi-sabi is all about embracing the imperfect and finding beauty in the flaws. It’s like looking at a cracked iPhone screen and thinking, “Wow, that’s some serious character!” rather than, “I need to sell a kidney to fix this.”
Wabi-sabi teaches us to appreciate the transient nature of life. It’s about slowing down and savoring the moment—like enjoying a cup of coffee before realizing you’ve been drinking cold brew by accident.
The Kintsugi Workshop: Where Laughter Meets Lacquer
As we began our Kintsugi journey, it quickly became apparent that none of us were going to become master artisans overnight. There were a lot of awkward brush strokes, misplaced gold, and some plates that looked like they were attacked by a toddler with a glitter fetish. But that was the beauty of it—embracing the process and the imperfections.
One of my plates ended up looking like something resembling modern art. I proudly declared, “It’s abstract!” and everyone applauded the creativity (and the ability to spin a near disaster into a masterpiece).
Life Lessons from Kintsugi
As we carefully mended our broken plates, a few life lessons began to emerge from the golden cracks:
- Embrace Your Flaws: Just like our broken plates, we all have our cracks and imperfections. Instead of hiding them, we should highlight them with metaphorical gold—our unique experiences and strengths.
- Take Your Time: The art of Kintsugi requires patience. In a world where we’re always rushing, it’s important to slow down and appreciate the process. Life is not a race to the finish line but a journey to be savored.
- Find Beauty in the Unfinished: Not everything needs to be perfect or complete. Sometimes, the most beautiful things are the ones that are still in progress—like that half-eaten pizza in the fridge.
Wrapping Up with Wabi-Sabi Wisdom
As we wrapped up our workshop, our once-broken plates were now shining with golden seams, each telling a unique story. We had a newfound appreciation for the philosophy of wabi-sabi and a ton of hilarious memories.
One of our brilliant engineers came up with a fantastic analogy after the whole experience and presented it to the wider Canva team. Here’s what the slide looked like:
The analogy compared our Subscriptions Service to Kintsugi, emphasizing how our team’s hard work and resilience transformed the service into something even more beautiful and robust. It was a moment of pride, laughter, and deep appreciation for the journey we’ve been on together.
So, the next time life throws a curveball your way and you end up with a broken plate (or a broken spirit), remember the art of Kintsugi. Embrace the cracks, fill them with gold, and appreciate the beauty in the imperfection. And if all else fails, at least you’ll have a great story to tell—and maybe a new abstract art piece for your office desk.
Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to find a place for my newly minted Kintsugi plate. I’m thinking right next to my cold brew coffee maker—it’s all about balance, right?
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