In my thirties, a series of unexpected events led me to move to Japan, without any clear idea of how long I would stay.

I did not know then how much that decision would shape the course of my life.

Over the years, I have often heard clients describe themselves as “broken.”

It always brings me back to one of the first Japanese concepts I encountered during my time there:

Kintsugi.

This art form repairs broken pottery with gold, making the cracks visible rather than hiding them.

Gestalt therapy holds something similar — that we are whole, even when we feel fragmented.

The work is not about fixing what is broken, but about staying with what is there long enough for something new to emerge.

I recall one client who found it difficult to answer a simple question: what do you want?

Through storytelling, we discovered that early in life they had learnt that expressing their desires might lead to shame and was not welcome. By using imagery, they began to design safe spaces for themselves, spaces where they could decide who to invite in.

Gradually, as we explored these spaces together, they began to find new ways of being.

A few months later, I remember being moved to tears when they told me they had booked their first appointment at the hairdressers, a small yet significant step towards caring for themselves.

In another instance, a client and I worked through the relentless voice of their inner critic, a voice that had fragmented their sense of self and left them feeling isolated.

Together, we explored the messages it carried. I invited him to write supportive notes, words that loved ones might say, on a stack of post-it notes. He tucked them away in a coat pocket, a book, a drawer, even his wallet.

One evening, feeling overwhelmed, he went for a walk and found a note in his pocket that simply said: “I got you.”

When he shared this moment with me, smiling, I asked, “who had you?”

He paused, then said quietly:

“I think I had myself.”

In that moment, something shifted.

Not because anything was fixed, but because something had been met.

Something in him began to hold together differently.

Not perfectly, but more honestly.

When we begin to see our cracks as part of our history rather than something to hide, something shifts.

Brokenness is no longer a sign of failure, but part of being human.

In Gestalt therapy, I am less interested in what something should look like, and more in how it is experienced.

So I might ask:

What does sadness look like for you?
What does happiness feel like in your body?

Not everything becomes easier.

But it may begin to feel more honest.

And from there, something new can emerge.

 

Marta Carbajo Gutiérrez is a UKCP-accredited Gestalt psychotherapist working with individuals and groups in London and online. You can find out more about her way of thinking on her substack at Kintsugi Mind.