The name ‘LEGO’ is an abbreviation of the two Danish words “leg godt”, meaning “play well”. And while the LEGO company has been building toys since 1932, the LEGO brick itself originated in 1958. The LEGOs that I “play well” with today are almost as old as I am! While LEGO was originally created as a child’s toy, these wonderful building blocks have grown along with the children who have played with them; these days you’ll find a category on the LEGO website for builders who are age 18 and older. AFOLs, we’re called: Adult Fans of LEGO, and there are some wonderful and complex kits designed for this group of adult fans. I’ve built more than a few of them myself over the past 9 months.

There’s something wonderfully satisfying about taking a pile of seemingly random LEGO bricks and pieces and putting them together to create something fun, or cool, or even beautiful! And the process of building becomes, for me, a mindful activity where I can focus on the task at hand and set difficult events or feelings aside for a while. LEGO helped ease me through some of the worst moments of my grief last year.

Mindful activities like this are special. They don’t cause us to avoid the difficult feelings so much as they simply give us space to breathe, to rest and recover for a bit before facing the world once more. I have used LEGO for this; you may have other methods. I have friends who knit and crochet, who quilt or paint or even create beautiful bowls on a wood lathe! These and other such activities are so fulfilling; they are a way to create order out of chaos and find the beauty in disorder, and they allow us to step back from the world for a time and find relief.

The Japanese have a concept that I have recently discovered: Wabi-Sabi, the art of appreciating the beauty in this naturally imperfect world. One artform that exemplifies Wabi-Sabi is called Kintsugi, where broken pottery is repaired by mending the areas of breakage with lacquer mixed with powdered gold. This art form emphasizes the imperfections, the broken pieces, rather than attempting to hide them. The result is beautiful.

I love Kintsugi. It reminds me of the imperfection of my own heart, having been shattered into pieces last spring when Faith so suddenly passed away. Over time, and with the help of dear friends and family, I have reassembled the pieces of my shattered heart into a new creation. When I look at this new heart I can see the imperfections, the lines where my heart was broken; and I also see a beautiful work of art. It is Wabi-Sabi. My Kintsugi heart honors the memory of what once was, even as it leads me to new purpose. I have created order out of chaos from the pieces of my heart.

And you, my friend? If your heart has been broken and the pieces lay scattered on the floor, I challenge you to pick up those pieces and mend your heart with golden lacquer. Create something new. And if the pieces are too small, shattered beyond repair – then gather those tiny pieces and create a mosaic, a picture, a work of art. Whatever you create, know that it will honor the memory of the love that once filled your heart, even as it gives you permission to live. Find order in the chaos, and cherish the beauty in the imperfection of your new creation.