Be The Broken Pottery

The Creative Act, Kintsugi, and the Art of Falling Apart.

No Kintsugi Nerd Pottery was harmed making this image in Midjourney.

Put me in the choir singing for Rick Rubin. The Creative Act: A Way of Being is the bible I never knew I wanted or needed. Rick’s zen Dude-like qualities make him a one-size-fits-all jacuzzi for the soul. The vibe is: Come on in, the waters warm.

I’ll let Rick say better, and with less words, all the wisdom (or WIZZ as the kids might say). My love of this book has become so fierce I have purchased it… sixteen times! I know what you’re thinking, “Adam, you sick fuck with too much disposable income. WHY?”

What usually happens is that I have a copy with me and then I’m with a human I love or perhaps just like or, on a few occasions a total stranger that I got to know very deeply within minutes through a shared special interest … and I just HAND IT TO THEM.

I say, “Keep it! I have another!” (I don’t. Unless keeping them at Amazon counts to you like it does to me.)   It’s insanely compelling to think you can change other peoples lives for the better this easily.

Even if you are not an artist or spicy-brained (read: Neurodiverse like me) this book will likely speak to you. I’d love to hear from an insurance salesman somewhere who found his inner voice and now creates whimsical life-size figurative sculptures out of butter thanks to Rick. (I made you up dear friend, but certainly you exist. Write me.)

In The Creative Act, Rubin writes about the artful form of repair called Kintsugi.

“When a piece of ceramic pottery breaks, rather than trying to restore it to its original condition, the artisan accentuates the fault by using gold to fill the crack. This beautifully draws attention to where the work was broken, creating a golden vein. Instead of the flaw diminishing the work, it becomes a focal point, an area of both physical and aesthetic strength. The scar also tells the story of the piece, chronicling its past experience.”

What a totally obvious yet powerful way of seeing our own flaws. I went ahead and ordered myself a Kintsugi kit (like this) so I can look forward to living this metaphor out in riveting too-literal real-time and then tossing aside this new hobby forever. (A spicy hobby itself I call “Hobby Laundering”.)

I was broken when I first read The Creative Act a year ago.  I had only just been diagnosed as an adult with ADHD.

I always felt broken in ways I would never speak about and then a year ago a lot of me broke at once. Despite so many clear wins and slaying shit, my lifetime of failures and weaknesses haunted me. When relationships I cared deeply about, and projects I had poured myself into fell apart I would blame myself (or worse, others) and instead double down on perfection and people pleasing. Since FOREVER I had wrongly assumed that my weaknesses were actually ME. I wasted enormous energy avoiding them like potholes. (But now we know, we can fill that shit with gold. GOLD, JERRY!)

I never drove, convinced by a few car accidents twenty years ago that I was a terrible driver.  My kids had only known their Mom to drive them everywhere and their Dad as a permanent passenger. I did not exercise, having fully accepted that eating whatever the fuck I want and feeling like a lazy piece of shit was the only real option for me. I was not in therapy, despite such clearly traumatic events like leaving home at fourteen and losing my sister to breast cancer. (I will resist saying all-the-things right now and miss the point.)

So what happened next? I woke up turning forty-six and like Forrest Gump, I stopped running, took a beat, and turned around. I started therapy.  I found medication that worked for me.  I started rowing daily and paying attention to what I ate. I became obsessed  with a stick shift (more on Roxy my WRX another day) and truly fell in love with driving.  Gradually, no corner of my life that was already so apparently wonderful from the outside (but broken on the inside) was immune to this radical shift in self-assessment.

It’s not all sexy J-turns. It’s very hard to accept the things I cannot change with compassion and grace. I’m sensitive and passionate and ambitious in all the best and worst ways. My quirks are quirky. (I also suffer from genuine “Mementoism” where treasured items vanish or I arrive in a room with zero idea why.)

I’m also realizing this Kintsugi style human crack repair work is never done. We break in new places. We are the one project we hope to never finish and one that requires sustained focus, and patience. (Focus is actually my super-power, patience much less so.)   Yet seeing myself this way - like pottery - has allowed me to feel the pain, push through discomfort, and not limit what I can imagine for myself on the other side.

My fresh ink! Based on the alchemy symbol for the sun. Thanks to Ant from @ravensquilltattoo.

The Beautiful Mess

I will always be an incurable enthusiast who just wants to play with other spicy nerd-balls (that’s you!)  These UP & ADAM dispatches are intended to stay free forever and be a place I can share, connect, grow, and explore with friends.

I’m so happy you’re here for the beginning. Beginnings are exciting. (Pro tip: It’s always the beginning. )

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