The beauty of broken things.

I got my dads old acoustic guitar out of the car today, I had left it in there since labor day. I didn't know where I was going to put it. This guitar, is almost 50 years old. It is a sunburst acoustic, there are scratches on the back of it, the binding needs replaced on the neck, and the strings definitely need changed. I love that guitar, it holds memories for me. Dad would play it when I was a little kid sometimes, even if the only song it seemed like he knew was the theme to the old western "Bonanza." He would play, and just seem so relaxed. As he chorded across the neck, you could see the stress and tension of the day or days leaving his spirit, and his body. He would relax, and it would just be him, and the guitar. He felt that I was there, listening, but he wouldn't react. He was in a state of zen, a state of peace.

It was the first guitar that I had, I didn't play it often enough. Dad told me that I needed to learn chords, and then some simple songs. I never did, I would play the notes that sounded best to me, or I would play the few Metallica intros that I had learned from guitar tabs. I used to have it leaning against the dresser, within arms reach of my bed at all hours of the day and night. If I woke up in the middle of the night, I would reach over and grab it, play for a few minutes and go back to sleep.

The guitar is old, broken, worn. Some would argue to replace it, I'm not going to. That's MY guitar, it's my dad's guitar. It's memories, and something of a friend. I appreciate the age, and the imperfections in the guitar.

Some of my best friends have been broken. Survivors of abusive childhoods, adult relationships, mental illness and depression. They all have a value. To help some one through those road blocks, and out of those dark patches, to listen as they tell their story, it creates a bond between you and them. It creates a trust, it creates a friendship, and it creates even more than that. It is healing to have some one to listen to you, when you tell of your darkest fears, things that have happened to you. It is cleansing, when the person on the other couch, across the room, or across the country listens and does not judge. The listener often doesn't realize what they are doing, in the simple act of listening. It is empowering, it gives them a new courage, a new strength. Listening, truly listening shows that some one else out there cares for them. The listener gains from the act as well. Compassion, understanding, tolerance. It adds depth to both.

The Japanese take broken things, and they repair them. The repairs are usually done using Gold, or silver. They say the broken and repaired object has a history, a repaired object, is one that is put back together that can tell it's story. they call it Kintsugi. It literally means "To patch with gold."

My friends, my family have all been repaired. Not with gold in a physical sense of the word, but in ways that are much more important, and valuable, vital to their well being. Emotionally, spiritually, and mentally. Even if it's in on going process.

Now, to look into eventually fixing my guitar...