I broke my @worldbuilders Eolian mug the other day, which was a real loss. I decided I would try to kintsugi it, a process I’ve had success with in the past with a bowl and beloved tea pot. The Kingkiller Chronicle is all about the beauty in broken things, why not this mug, too?

So I settled in at my table, put my headphones on and got to work. I was in the zone at first: the seams where the pieces squished together popping with bright gold. Everything fit together just so. The epoxy was a bit old, but holding. This would be my kintsugi masterpiece.

It didn’t take much longer to realize that it was turning out to be a mess. The first pieces I joined together started to fall apart, the glue not sticking. I hastily tried to repair the rapidly-separating pieces, but the glue was too dry and now the fit was no longer as tight.

One by one the pieces I bonded together came undone, the old epoxy becoming less and less pliant. To top it off, my cat leapt into my workspace and stuck her front paw in some of the glue, and while I was busy cleaning off her foot, more of the pieces fell apart.

By the time I had everything together, the mug was a total mess. The cracks were still visible in some places, the spots where the broken bits of pottery joined together loose and ill-fitting. I only wanted to make something beautiful in this broken time, and I was denied.

I learned something valuable in all of this - that sometimes, despite our best efforts, some things are too broken to fix. Sometimes the cracks show and no matter how much we try to cover them up, the seal is never tight enough and things leak out.

Many times, it’s not even your fault. You might not have the right tools available, or perhaps the time to try to fix it has come and gone. This applies to large life choices as well, but sometimes it’s even harder to do that with the little things, like fixing a favorite mug.

Sometimes the small things can be the most dangerous because when you fixate on them they distract you from what’s more important. You think you’ve done a good enough job repairing the damage, but it could do real harm.

Ultimately, it’s ok to let go. To mourn the loss, gather up the broken pieces, throw them out, and start again. It’s ok to be disappointed. To do, and fail, and try again. Sometimes the beauty isn’t in the fixing of broken things, but in knowing when to let go of them.