As a perfectionist, I put a lot of pressure on myself. A completed project could always be done better, a piano piece practiced more, a meal better cooked. As someone who has lived with perfectionism for a lifetime, it goes without saying that I’ve always seen mistakes that I’ve made as bad – signs that I have been measured, and found wanting.

Recently though, I experienced something that inspired me to change this mindset. I was meditating, and an image came into my mind of what appeared to be a vase. Gradually, cracks began to appear on the vase, covering the surface. Oh no, I thought – the vase is breaking. Except that through the lines of each crack, light began to seep out. Eventually I realized that it wasn’t a vase – it was a lamp. Each crack was a way for the light to shine through. It occurred to me: if we don’t have cracks, no one will see our light.

The image of a light shining through the cracks, stuck with me. It reminded me of the Japanese tradition of Kintsugi, where if a ceramic breaks, gold lacquer is used to repair it. Because of the gold, the cracks aren’t just visible, they’re beautiful. I read a description of Kintsugi which said: “With lacquer and gold, the object’s scars come to life. They become an ode to the passing of time, to imperfection.”

What if every mistake made, every imperfection in myself – is actually an opportunity for me to let light shine through? A chance to show kindness to someone struggling. An opportunity to be kind to myself.

Most importantly for me, what if all these cracks – these mistakes, errors – are opportunities to teach kindness to my kids? To teach them that when they spill something, it’s not a shortcoming – sometimes in life, we make messes we have to clean up. When they fight, helping them learn that it’s not a character flaw to be angry – learning to resolve conflicts and build stronger relationships.

Thinking more about these cracks, I’ve realized that I don’t really want to be perfect. My mistakes over the years have given me the ability to relate to other people. To empathize and say, “I’ve been there”. To hold space because I understand someone’s struggle. I couldn’t do any of that without the pain of experiencing my own blunders. Each mistake has left its mark – a mark which has defined and refined me. Like the gold etching on a mended piece of pottery.  

So now, instead of agonizing over mistakes made, I work to practice gratitude. Mistakes have taught me to love and guide my kids, to have meaningful relationships with the people most important in my life. I still struggle – it can be difficult be grateful for a mistake in the moment (oh, the heat of embarrassment, the weight of frustration – both so overwhelming, easy to edge out anything else). But I’m trying.

Kind of makes me wonder….what could happen if everyone, throughout our society, practiced gratitude for our mistakes? What kind of culture shift could we bring about, if we gave thanks for the gifts of our imperfections – instead of seeing them as flaws? Maybe something to think about.

I am grateful for all of our cracks – they are opportunities to see our light.