Wabi-Sabi. Go on, say it again…its a fun one. I am so grateful for my dear friend Danielle sending me this article and reminding me of this beautiful tradition. It is so in line with what we’re aiming to accomplish, on so many levels.
In short, this Japanese practice is about embracing the old, the scratched, the imperfect but loved. It is about minimizing. It is about honoring ‘labor-required’ over ‘push start.’
It takes me 10 minutes to make our morning cup uh joes–from hand grinding the beans, to boiling the water, filtering the grinds, then slowly reheating, adding cream and sugar to perfection. It is one of the best parts of my day.
Wabi-Sabi (say it again) is like a peaceful protester in a world that assaults us with advertisements, incentives and ‘great deals’ on BIG, NEW, SHINY things that are kind of empty in the meaningful department. There in the middle of it all, a Wabi-Sabi home stands up against the machine, the industry, the politics of it all…just by standing.
We will build this home with a lot of leftovers; a lot of scraps. Our doors will have dents, our stove will have had a life cooking food for other families. Our windows will not be uniform and our dishes will not match. BUT, do not be fooled. This home will be sound. Every inch will tell a story. Every room will wrap you up, squeeze you like a loving friend and say welcome home.
Its easy to want what we want when we want it. Trust me, a 2 year old’s 6 a.m. wake up call makes your electronic Coffee Mate lust-worthy. But, as I reach for my grinder I am amazed at its simple wood and stainless steel design. The filters are an earthy unbleached shade of brown and folded like origami. My ‘make the coffee task’ turns into an experience. A ritual. A little bit of Wabi-Sabi.
We’re still waiting to see if this spot of land is the one for us. A home full of moving boxes does not feel very Wabi or very Sabi, but what an excellent opportunity to minimize, shed, and get back to our most meaningful possessions.