Wabi Sabi and The Gift of Imperfection

Imagine you're a professional cello player, set to perform solo at a world-class auditorium. You walk on stage to an enormous ovation, and you smile at the crowd as you take your place next to your cello. Even though you've done this a thousand times before, there's still a mild unease as the crowd becomes silent with anticipation. It's just you and your cello under the glaring spotlight. You begin playing.

Then, from out of nowhere in the middle of the performance, there's a loud, harsh snap. Your cello string breaks. The crowd gasps.

This is a real scenario, which happened to a real person: none other than the world-renowned cellist Yo-Yo Ma. Arguably the most distinguished cellist of all time, Ma has played in thousands of concert halls worldwide, including the most prestigious venues. He's performed for Kings, Queens, Czars, Presidents, and Princes. As a child prodigy, at age 7, he played on the Leonard Bernstein show for President John F. Kennedy.

One might think that, for such an accomplished performer, a broken string mid-performance would be a disaster. His audiences have come to expect perfection.

But as he recounts, it's one of his most relished occurrences. As he describes,

“Sometimes strings break. And when a string breaks in the beginning of the performance, I think I'm in heaven. After the string breaks, everybody gasps. You go backstage, put on the new string. And because something untoward has happened, for the rest of the evening, you can do no wrong.”

Few of us have actually had a string break in such a formal, high-stakes performance. But there's something very relatable about the general situation Yo-Yo Ma describes: there’s a certain levity that comes from things going slightly wrong.

Or, put another way, there’s a unique, particular value that comes with imperfection. And this goes well beyond musical performances. Think about the feeling of paranoia someone feels after driving a brand-new, flawless car off the lot or using the latest pristine iPhone straight from the box. When that first scratch inevitably appears, the initial disappointment often gives way to a broader feeling of relief and contentment.

What’s happening here? Why does imperfection feel so liberating? There isn’t a great word in the English language to describe this phenomenon. Instead, the best way to understand it is by exploring the Japanese concept of Wabi-Sabi. Let’s dive in.

The Philosophy of Wabi Sabi

Wabi-Sabi is a philosophy and aesthetic that centers around an appreciation of imperfection, impermanence, and incompleteness. It's a complex concept, deeply embedded within Japanese culture, and does not lend itself to an easy, concrete definition. As Taro Gold describes in his book, Living Wabi Sabi, it’s an inherently elusive term. He writes, “Ask people on a Tokyo street to describe Wabi Sabi, and they will likely give you a polite shrug and explain that Wabi Sabi is simply unexplainable.”

If we had to force a succinct definition, it would be something like “the beauty of imperfection.”

The most classic example of Wabi-Sabi is Kintsugi, the centuries-old Japanese art of repairing tea bowls. Typically, broken pottery is glued back together with invisible adhesive and painted over to look new. Kintsugi takes the opposite approach. Instead of hiding the imperfection, it highlights it. The craft uses a gold lacquer adhesive to join the broken pieces together.

This technique accentuates the so-called defects, making them the most stunning and visually salient aspect of the pottery. The approach celebrates each artifact by emphasizing and appreciating its imperfection. It's a beauty that, like feelings of serendipity, can't readily be predicted.

The Japanese novelist Haruki Murakami echoed this idea in his keynote speaking. Despite being more comfortable in his native Japanese, he preferred to give large lectures in English. As he describes:

“Much as I love reading books in English, speaking in English is definitely not my forte. But that makes me feel all the more comfortable giving a speech. I just think, ‘It’s a foreign language, so what are you going to do?’ This was a fascinating discovery for me.”

Murakami is a master of the Japanese language, just as Ma is a master of the cello. Switching to English is like Yo-Yo Ma breaking a string mid-performance: imperfect, spontaneous, and at ease.

The Connection Between Wabi-Sabi and Nature

One of the critical characteristics of the Wabi-Sabi aesthetic is an appreciation of nature, and more broadly, for the natural beauty that exists outside of deliberate, human creation. Humans naturally impose their standards of value and perfection on the world, often disrupting a natural order of beauty best left alone. As the poet Mary Oliver described,

“Maybe the world, without us, is the real poem.”

Wabi-Sabi creations often arise from naturally occurring elements rather than manipulating raw materials to the artist’s will. Thus, the artist is seen as a conduit, not an independent creator.

Some of the best examples of this are in music. Consider the experimental composer John Cage, who incorporated nature into his compositions to channel organic sounds. He describes his orientation to music in the following way:

“When I hear what we call music, it seems to me that someone is talking. And talking about his feelings, or about his ideas of relationships. But when I hear traffic, the sound of traffic—here on Sixth Avenue, for instance—I don’t have the feeling that anyone is talking. I have the feeling that sound is acting. And I love the activity of sound ... I don’t need sound to talk to me.”

Heavily influenced by Zen Buddhism and Japanese traditions, Cage’s musical philosophy aligns closely with Wabi-Sabi: the role of the composer is not to manipulate sounds but to allow them to flow through naturally.

His most well-known piece, 4′33″, involves an orchestra resting in silence for 4 minutes and 33 seconds. Critics often deride the piece as “just silence.” However, Cage’s intention was much deeper. 4′33″ eliminates deliberate orchestration to focus on the naturally occurring ambient sounds of the auditorium.

Wabi-Sabi and The Challenge of Perfection

In any discipline, "perfect" is the ultimate achievement. It's human nature, perhaps, to pursue mastery. Whether it’s scoring perfectly on a test or planning a flawless evening for a loved one, the pursuit of perfection can be incredibly motivating. But achieving perfection comes with its own challenges.

The real difficulty arises not in the failure to achieve perfection but in its maintenance. Reaching a lofty, unblemished state creates pressure, as there’s nowhere to go but down.

Wabi-Sabi offers an alternative perspective. It recognizes that everything, including human existence, is in constant flux. The attainment of static perfection is artificial, and its pursuit leads to inexorable dissatisfaction. Instead, accepting and even celebrating imperfection can free us from this self-imposed burden.

Even breaking a cello string mid-performance can become a cherished moment.

Thank you for taking the time to read my work. This article also appears on my human nature blog. For more articles, and to find out more about my work, research, and keynote speaking, you can check my website, Neuroscience Of.