The Kintsugi Resilience Program draws inspiration from the Japanese art of repairing broken pottery with gold, transforming brokenness into beauty. Through this lens, we train Master Resilience Mentors to guide others in finding strength in their vulnerable spaces. Our curriculum, spanning seven booklets, culminates in exploring Wisdom – perhaps the most challenging yet transformative element of resilience building.
During a recent Kintsugi session exploring Booklet Seven on Wisdom, James (name changed), one of our Master Resilience Mentor trainees, presented a reflection that penetrated the heart of our work. As a resilience mentor, James’s role involves walking alongside others through their broken places, helping them discover the gold in their cracks. Yet his presentation wrestled with a profound paradox: how does one remain vulnerable while mentoring others through unsafe spaces?
This question strikes at the core of resilience mentorship. Our mentors are trained to create safe spaces for others to process trauma, navigate challenges, and build resilience. They learn to hold space for others’ vulnerability while maintaining appropriate boundaries. However, the journey of mentorship often requires them to model the very vulnerability they hope to cultivate in others.
But perhaps the most illuminating perspective on this paradox comes from an unexpected source – the cross itself. When confronted with hostile crowds demanding a display of power (“Come down from the cross if you are the Son of God”), Christ chose a different path. Instead of flexing divine muscle, he leaned further into vulnerability. His cry, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” wasn’t just an expression of anguish – it was a radical embodiment of the very wisdom our Kintsugi program seeks to instill.
This moment presents us with a revolutionary understanding of power that’s essential for resilience mentorship. The crowd’s demand for Christ to demonstrate his authority through force mirrors our own instincts when facing hostile environments. We armor ourselves, build walls, and project strength. Yet Christ’s response suggests a different kind of power – one that transforms through vulnerability rather than dominance.
James’s reflection during our mentor training was particularly poignant. As someone trained to maintain professional boundaries and create safe spaces for others, he recognized the radical nature of Christ’s example. His role as a mentor requires him to wear metaphorical armor at times to maintain appropriate distance and control. Yet here was a model of wisdom that suggested true strength might lie in the willingness to be vulnerable.
"When we dare to step into arenas where we feel powerless, choosing authentic vulnerability over protective power, we're not just teaching resilience, we are embodying it."
The gospel narrative challenges our conventional understanding of mentorship dynamics. When Christ cried out “Abba, Father,” in his moment of greatest vulnerability, he wasn’t displaying weakness – he was demonstrating a profound truth about authentic leadership. This wasn’t the failure of power but rather its fullest expression. For Kintsugi resilience mentors who navigate challenging environments daily, this presents both a challenge and an invitation. The challenge is recognizing that our instinct to armor ourselves might limit our capacity to facilitate transformative healing in others. The invitation is to consider that true mentorship power might not lie in our ability to control situations or protect ourselves from vulnerability but in our capacity to remain authentic even in hostile environments. James’s desire to preach this message reveals its resonance within our Kintsugi community. Yet, as our session concluded, we realized that the most powerful mentorship wouldn’t be found in words alone but in the courageous choice to enter that vulnerable space ourselves. When we dare to step into arenas where we feel powerless, choosing authentic vulnerability over protective power, we’re not just teaching resilience -but embodying it.
The wisdom we explore in our final Kintsugi booklet might not be found in resolving the tension between power and vulnerability but in embracing it. Like Christ on the cross, our moments of greatest vulnerability as mentors might be our moments of greatest impact. This isn’t a comfortable truth, particularly in mentorship environments demanding constant vigilance and protection. But that’s precisely why it’s so powerful.
The path forward in resilience mentorship isn’t about abandoning all boundaries or protections. Rather, it’s about recognizing that true wisdom might require us to sometimes choose vulnerability over power, authenticity over armor. In doing so, we follow not just an ancient example but tap into a transformative truth that continues to shape our understanding of what it means to be truly resilient mentors.