There is no word for it in English: this Japanese whisper that cuts through Western noise, this aesthetic that refuses translation because translation would kill it: wabi-sabi.
Rooted in Taoism and Zen Buddhism, it works its way into you: nothing lasts, nothing is finished, nothing is perfect: yet here, in this very impermanence, incompleteness, imperfection: vast, deep-rooted, undeniable beauty in all broken things.
Wabi-sabi illuminates what we’ve been taught to overlook: unconventionality, modesty, humbleness, asymmetry, roughness, simplicity, austerity, intimacy. It means surrendering to the ingenuous integrity of natural objects and processes: the cycle that terrifies us and completes us: growth, decay, death: truths we consistently deny.
Notice how this cuts against everything we’ve inherited: those ancient Greek ideals of beauty and perfection, symmetry, radiance, majesty, grandness, immutability, eternity, broadness: the worldview that shaped most Westerners into perfectionist addicts, breaking themselves against impossible expectations.
This is where wabi-sabi intervenes: it reminds us what is real and essential, the uniqueness of each imperfect thing: that nothing is finished or lasts forever: it repeatedly whispers about our temporal nature, the temporality of everything around us: the beauty in that fragility.
Rather than developing incomplete, simplistic, artificial understanding, we become aware of depth: genuine value in all things, every person, every circumstance: gradually, we feel more empathetic and grateful: reminded to enjoy the moment and its outcomes, whatever they are.
We should not only be conscious of the cracks and marks that time, weather, and love leave behind in anything and anyone: we should celebrate the beauty of those imperfections: learn to value simplicity, comprehend flaws and complexities, appreciate each other and ourselves as we are: impermanent, incomplete, imperfect: without ornamentation. After all, as Leonard Cohen sang: “There is a crack in everything. That’s how the light gets in.”