Kintsugi (Episode 1): The Ancient Japanese Practice That Will Heal You

Hi friends, yokoso, and welcome to Kintsugi. For the last 10 years of my career, I've worked on this project from Kintsugi Wellness, the book, to the Wabi Sabi podcast, to the Kintsugi documentary, which you are about to watch. I'm so excited for you guys to check out this journey. As a mixed kid between the world of Japan and the US and Poland, I've sort of had to find my way. And if you ever feel different, if you are struggling, if you are going through a hard time, or if you just feel stuck, I wrote and directed and produced these projects for you because I too have gone through my own struggles of severe depression, anxiety, and just fear overall. I created this series to go a little bit deeper and to learn from some of the wisest individuals in the world, from Nagasaki survivors to the monks of Koyasan in Shikoku, to a young skater kid in Tokyo, to my own mother who was born and raised in Kyushu, Japan, to a Kintsugi artist, to a reverend in Kyoto. We have learned so much about one another and from one another. Storytelling has always been my favorite way to share with the world and to reconnect with all of you. I hope you find connection in this series, a little bit of love and light, and you enjoy and know that all things in life are truly perfectly imperfect and we can still embrace one another, especially when we come from different places. I began writing Kintsugi over five years ago. It had taken me a tremendous amount of time to feel that I was even worthy of writing about my Japanese heritage. As a mixed kid, I was raised by a Japanese mother and a Polish-American father in the U.S., and I didn't always fit in. As a journalist and writer in New York City, I became the poster child of wellness. And what had looked like overnight success was actually just 15 years of hard labor in the works. I put this constant pressure on myself, like I had to be perfect all the time, like I had something to prove. Nowadays, we are so focused on things like greed, power, money, and beauty. I had felt in my heart that so many of us were starting to lose our way. The only way that I knew how to get back on the right path was to go back to the place that I was from, Japan. Your roots and your lineage can tell this unexpected and beautiful story. I went to go back and study my ancestors' practices. That's where we find the art form of kintsugi. It's the art form of golden repair. When an object breaks, it is put back together with a lacquer and a golden powder. When the object is completed, it is foreseen as even more beautiful than it once was before. It is a great correlation and a metaphor for anybody that is going through a hard time or is looking to heal, seal, and mend. Nobody is perfect. You can be better when you allow your cracks to shine. And in sharing your story of being broken, kintsugi gives us a sense of freedom, peace, and harmony. And maybe, just maybe, this mixed kid, this child of war, that never felt like she was supposed to fit in, maybe her calling was to share selflessly her family's history, their story, and the story of others she was meant to share. Throughout this series, we'll learn together the traditions and the culture of Japan to find where our heart lies. As we moved through the forest, the bamboo trees, the temples, the streets of Tokyo, as we skateboarded, as we ran, as we shot, as we worked our way through Japan, I found my way. I thought it was really important to share with you where I'd come from. So I hope you enjoy this series and you can find a little part of yourself along the way. This is kintsugi. The story begins and ends at the hospital where life both begins and ends. It's the place where I last saw my grandmother in Japan and where we donated my grandfather's beloved artwork. This story starts with my family and chasing my grandfather's art. I went to go see my grandfather's artwork at the hospital for the first time ever. This was both touching and shocking. The last waking moments of some lives saw my grandfather's art before this time of trauma or passing. Maybe there was some comfort that was available in his artwork. In 1940, Jun Korenaga attended art school. My grandfather flew from the countryside of Kyushu in Southern Japan to Tokyo to study at Taiheiyo Bijutsu Gakko Pacific Art School. He wanted to study the greats. He wanted to learn. He was so inspired with the Impressionist paintings, he dreamed of becoming a famous Impressionist artist himself. So he later became an art teacher. Oh my God. Sorry, you guys. He traveled far and wide across Europe to make this happen. In 1942, he passed the examination to become a teacher and he changed his name to Kumai. My grandmother's last name and our family legacy, Jun Kumai. He painted and he painted. He sketched and he painted. Traveled and he struggled. My mother reminded me that his deepest and darkest struggles came through his artistry and his pain. He liked to drink whiskey. He inevitably was an artist. He struggled and endured. His wood carvings and his paintings, they later tell a story of a man, an artist, a pioneer, a creator who simply wanted to express himself. Due to the war, he had to head back to Oita to become a teacher. The Americans were bombing Tokyo so he fled to teach the children back in Oita in Kyushu to survive. He fled to teach so that he would not have to be drafted into the mess of the war like so many young Japanese men his age. He survived and he struggled. I sometimes wonder, had there not been war, had the Americans not bombed Tokyo, had he not had to flee, what would have come of Ji-Chun's art? The last time I saw these, I think I was like five years old, at his exhibits. And I just like, I haven't seen something so beautiful in so long. Some of these I don't even remember seeing. So thank you. When I was just five years old, my mom took me to see my grandfather's stone Buddha art. It was this experience that I would always cherish. It changed my whole perspective on the world. Probably didn't realize it when I was little, but watching my grandfather's art, my heart and mind were able to capture and captivate this different world in my mind. Exactly 30 years later, mom and I meet up to chase my grandfather's artwork. It wasn't planned this way, but it became part of the full circle. Even when we were that little and we used to come here all the time, I didn't think that we would ever be where we are. I didn't think I'd be writing about Japan. I think that childhood memory stays in your brain, long time. Yeah. So I guess, getting old start to remember those memories and maybe you thought something about your mother's homeland. You know me, since I was a kid, I've been never done what everybody else is doing. I don't like rules. You know, you and dad were really tough on Jenny and I. And like you said, like if you only have one chance to do something great, then you guys try hard work. Well, do your best. Ganbatte. That's tough. Yeah. For me, the struggle has been, I have to be like this example for other people to follow now, even though it's really, really tough. Now that I know that G-chan did the same thing when we were growing up, G-chan was struggling to be a successful artist and also raise a family at the same time and teach the kids at school. Knowing that, you know, it makes me feel a little bit more comforted. I have to learn from him, right? Like G-chan come to this park often, paint all those trees. Staying at nature is one thing to keep you calm. Did you like seeing G-chan's art? Oh, yes. I watched those painting when I was young. He's attacking on the canvas and drawing something he won't paint. Some of them still here. But it's not forever. During the early age, when he was young, he drew many people. The model is there, usually ladies. He liked ladies, so he painted those beautiful ladies. But later, getting old, they start to paint the sekibutsu, stone Buddha. Stone Buddha sculptures and stuff. How long would something like this take him? Maybe a couple months. Okay. Yeah. Day after day, just keep painting, try to make his best painting. It's a struggle, you know? The struggle is part of the artistry. You know, it's like, you're never gonna feel qualified, talented, smart, or good enough because you're constantly evolving your work into this new direction. And maybe he felt the same way. You know? I really wish I could talk to him about that now. Seeing my grandfather's art as a struggling writer in New York City, I started to connect to him even more and on a different level. We're all going through the same thing just at different places and at different times in our lives. Sometimes when we don't know where to turn, it's so nice to go back to where you came from and experience the same things your family once did at different points in time. Jiichan think when they carve this one, they probably apply the more brilliant colors all over the Buddha's statue. So later, it's just all gone. So when Jiichan painting that's the Buddha's statue on the canvas, he kind of imagined what that color was, kind of. So that's kind of a blue and orange-ish color you saw today. Somebody make this stone Buddha. Jiichan draw it. Can you smell? Torch to create something. The most important thing is just keep going right and like take it all in and know that it's not gonna be perfect. When you go back to where you come from and when you see the origins of where everything started, you will be able to open your world and your mind up to so much healing and so much grace and so much empathy. My mother and I often had these long conversations about Koya-san. It's a place where Shingon Buddhism was founded and it's a place where I've gone to work on myself with the monks in the mountains for the last few years. You may not know that out in the mountains in the middle of nowhere, the monks are praying for us all the time. I used to work as a monk but as I got older and older, there were a lot of things that didn't go well in my life. At first, I thought that I couldn't be like the people around me or the world around me. But if the people around me change and the same thing happens to me, then maybe there's a cause in me. Koya-san, the founder of the Koubou Daishi Koukai, said that he is a Buddha. He said that there is a Buddha inside of us and that he is someone who knows about himself but he doesn't really know about himself. He doesn't know what he is thinking or how he feels about himself. In Japan, this is called senzoku-you. It's a ritual where you pay homage to your ancestors. I started doing this when I was a kid. I joined the Goma Shigyo and I learned the joy of praying. I decided to live my life like that. I felt so calm and complete when I was in Koya-san. And a sense of peace would always wash over me when I was there. With no cameras, no writing, no technology, I simply wanted to connect back to my ancestors' practices. In Japanese, there is a phrase called gyo-juu-za-ga. Gyo means to do, juu means to stay, za means to sit, ga means to lie down. By getting rid of all of these thoughts, worries, and instincts, you can purify yourself. Cleaning is one of the most important tasks to get rid of the dirt in your heart. Even if there is a little bit of dirt, it's important to clean it. In Koya-san, a lot of people come here to pray. When they come, they feel good when they pray and feel good when they go home. When I connect back to the monks, I can see part of myself inside of them. That self that wants to help others and stay mindful and constantly wants to pray for others and their best journey. The monks help to remind us who we are and where we're going when they share with us their take on life and the struggles that they've been through as well. Or maybe it's even just their happy times which include cleaning and taking care of the temple grounds. This is a pleasure and a joy to watch as it's something that is so rarely seen in everyday Western life. Perhaps the monks have this perspective on life that is so pure and clean that when we watch it, we're taken back by their practice of gambate. They always do their best no matter what, but being of service to others is what they choose to do with their lives. I've been going back to Koyasan for five years now, every single year to spend time with the monks. I've gone through every season, every change, and the one thing that's sure is that they'll always be there. If you believe in yourself and follow your heart, the people around you will understand and support you. If you continue to do that, you'll be able to see your own will. I hope that all of you will face your heart and believe in the determination you have as you move forward. In between the mountains and the roadways, the struggles, the Japanese countryside, all the way through Koyasan and with the monks, through the hospital and those moments where I just get to be with my mother in Japan, what we find is a little piece of ourselves and we find that it's okay to be broken, it's okay to struggle. You can look at your heritage to find answers. I found it in my grandfather's art, I found it with the monks in the mountains, I found it in my mother's heart in the countryside of Japan, and I found it in Kintsugi, that we're all perfectly imperfect just as we are. I hope you guys loved episode one and you check out episodes two, three, and four. Follow my work on social media at CandiceKumai on Instagram, YouTube, TikTok, wherever you can find me. Sign up for my newsletter at CandiceKumai.com and also don't forget to check out the Wabi Sabi podcast. I'll see you there and I'm a little bit more crass on the podcast.