Bring on the gold

Normally this time of year I write a blog about “getting back to work", about how we should be embracing children’s creativity and in doing so create something more beautiful, more accessible and more edifying both for our children and for us. You can one such post here about valuing courage.

This year feels very different. There is a lot of talk about “getting back to normal’. But I think there can never be a ‘normal’ again. We are forever changed by our experiences, and especially our experiences of the pandemic. Without exception we have all experienced loss; loss of our freedoms, loss of loved ones. My husbands gran died of Covid very suddenly. It has been a challenging and unique 18 months, the impact of which we live with everyday.

I spoke to the head of a large day nursery last week who was clear about the impact of the pandemic on the children in her care; sensory deprivation, loss of opportunity play, anxiety about other children, washing, being close to people. Staff well being is also low, having had to cope with changing rules and restrictions on their practice.

In stepping forward into work this year I bring with me a new resilience and a brokenness. In Japan, when ceramics are broken some Japanese mend them through the traditional art of Kintsugi.

It is a process of repairing ceramics with urushi lacquer (made from the sap of a tree) and gold powder. The process transforms something something broken into something beautiful and useful again.

These spiderwebs of gold encourages us not to hide our imperfections, but to accept our “flaws” – and even to call attention to them. Kintsugi is the practice of coaxing beauty out of unexpected places, from a broken vase and teacup to upended plans and unexpected setbacks. And this year certainly has been a whole bunch of unexpected set backs.

But what gold can we draw from the ‘new’ us? Maybe going more gently into the new working year, valuing being with people and being present (rather than on zoom or distracted), giving ourselves time and space to rest and rejuvenate in a way we never have before, or having better work boundaries about what we can take on? I recognise that I am forever changed…. but that there is gold to the found in each of the situations I have found myself in during the past 18 months. What about you?

Liz Clark is a dance artist and director, mum to three and in charge of the dog. And that’s enough.