Ashlandsblog

There was once a boy named Wabi. Rough around the edges, he wondered if there was anything other than him, till he met someone rougher. And realized how repulsive he finds someone tangled in their mess. So Wabi ran in circles, someone that caught his eye, at first familiar but as he got to see more of the other, the feeling of distaste came. When you’re young everything feels like love, and so Wabi, equated love with distaste.

Till he met Sabi. As Wabi got to know Sabi, the same feeling drifted by, but never stayed. Wabi questioned if he even loved Sabi. He had spent too much time thinking someone’s roughness was love, and Sabi had no edges. Shame came over Wabi when he realized, he was Wabi. And Sabi was treating him like he was jagged and needed to be handled with care or left altogether.

So Wabi learned to hide. Pleated the edges with armour and gold, if there was a crack he saw, he covered it up beautifully. And that worked for a while but it wasn’t true.

And so Wabi finally turned to himself and started calling himself Sabi till it was true. Even if it wasn’t working at first, he committed to never look at Sabi again, unless he saw it in the mirror first. Singing Wabi Sabi, Wabi Sabi.