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What Do These Things Have in Common?
• The Velveteen Rabbit
• Your favorite, worn-in pair of jeans
• A quirky but beloved friend
• Laugh lines
• Patina
• A slightly frayed family heirloom
Answer:
They all possess wabi-sabi.
As do many things that are authentic, incomplete, impermanent, honest, asymmetrical, and transitional. In other words — just about everything meaningful in us and our world.
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What Is Wabi-Sabi?
Wabi-sabi (pronounced wah-bee sah-bee) is a Japanese aesthetic and worldview rooted in the acceptance of imperfection and impermanence.
Richard Powell defines it this way:
“Wabi-sabi nurtures all that is authentic by acknowledging three simple realities:
Nothing lasts,
Nothing is finished, and
Nothing is perfect.”
Wikipedia adds that it’s a comprehensive philosophy centered on finding beauty in the “imperfect, impermanent, and incomplete.” It’s not just an aesthetic — it's a way of living. A quiet reverence for the natural cycles of growth and decay, for the cracks that tell stories, for the flawed that feel true.
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What I’ve Noticed Since Learning About Wabi-Sabi
Once I understood this concept, I began to notice it everywhere:
• In the yellowing (and dying) lily pads that were just as beautiful as the vibrant flower.
• In the sweet surprise of a misshapen piece of fruit.
• In the hidden treasure discovered after taking a wrong turn.
• In the soft rolls and dimpled thighs of my grandbaby — and in my own strong, lumpy, aging legs.
• In the rough-hewn bench made from the fallen oak in my yard — different from what I envisioned, yet beautiful in its own right.
And then I started to see wabi-sabi in my work, too:
• In the client who doesn’t quite have it all together (and doesn’t need to).
• In forgiving myself for a missed opportunity.
• In letting go of the cringe after an awkwardly phrased coaching question.
• In taking the next step forward — even when I don’t have all the answers.
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From Tolerance to Celebration
I’ve come to realize there’s a profound difference between accepting imperfection and appreciating it.
It’s the difference between seeing something through the lens of a pragmatist versus seeing it like an artist.
It’s not about tolerating what is; it’s about loving what is. Finding the splendor within it, instead of writing it off as "less than."
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Bottom Line
I’ve spent years breaking free from what I call “the prison of perfection.”
It was a place where excellence was never enough, and I stalled too often, chasing one more tweak, one more improvement, one more polish.
It was a place fueled by fear — fear that someone might notice the slightest flaw.
Letting go of that has been a gift.
But wabi-sabi invites me to go beyond simply “letting go.”
It encourages celebration — not just acceptance — of imperfection.
It helps me see the beauty in what is, instead of being stuck in what should be.
It invites me to see wholeness in the worn edges, value in the asymmetry, truth in the unfinished.
“There’s a difference between accepting imperfection and appreciating it.
That difference? Love.”
It reminds me that everything is impermanent — and that even decay holds its own kind of beauty.
So now, when I look in the mirror, instead of fretting about wrinkles, I see a face shaped by both laughter and sorrow — and it feels richer, not lesser, because of it.
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An Invitation
I encourage you to try seeing with wabi-sabi eyes.
You might be surprised by how much beauty opens up for you.
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It’s been a hell of a day. I’m finally seventy miles in the air on a flight to D.C., then on to Indy — finally being the keyword.I’d spent the day in Savannah, Georgia, wrapping up a client’s strategic retreat. The plan was simple: finish by 4:30, get to the airport, and two-hop home to Indy by midnight. That was the plan — until it wasn’t.
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It’s Monday morning. 7 a.m. I sit at the kitchen table, gazing out at the dawn. It’s not quite light, but no longer dark. This in-between moment holds both the arrival of light and the retreat of night. And later, as the day dims into dusk, the cycle will reverse. This liminal time feels like a perfect metaphor for the emotions surrounding me lately. A reminder that opposites often co-exist — joy and despair, hope and fear, sadness and light. One woven into the other. One fades so the other may rise.
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It’s a frigid Friday night in late January in Indiana. Dark, with a biting wind. I head into my local pharmacy carrying both a heaviness—after 11 days of the flu—and a hopefulness that the prescription I’m about to pick up will finally end this scourge. As I reach the back of the store, I sigh. The line is long. I take my place, preparing for a wait. And then, something completely unexpected happens. And that chance event has completely shifted my perspecive going forward.
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