Some Things Can't Be Rebuilt

But they can be honored. And that's a kind of peace.

We live in a culture of fixing.

Of sanding smooth.

Of hiding the crack.

and as builders we tend to want to "fix it".

to rebuild, to erase the damage.

But in Japan, there is a quiet wisdom called "wabi-sabi."

Where the imperfect, impermanent, and incomplete still contain beauty.

A cracked bowl mended with gold.

A weathered beam left unpainted.

A goodbye that never got spoken.

Some things are not meant to be rebuilt.

They're meant to be witnessed.

Held with care.

Remembered not repaired.

This, too, is building.

Not with wood or plans,

but with presence.

We do not need to fix every fracture.

Sometimes, the deepest act of love

is to sit beside the ruin

and say nothing.

Just…

be there.

Some things can't be rebuilt.

But they can teach us how to live

gently, honestly, and awake to what remains.

Let the crack remain. Not to remind you of what broke,

but of what still holds.

In the space where something once stood,

you now stand.

Not to rebuild, but to remember.

To bow. To begin again differently,

more gently,

with eyes that now see the sacred in what is no longer whole.

Field Note:

Honor the cracks with shoring and stability.