As we move into March, I’ve been reflecting on change.
The slow shift of seasons. The heaviness of the news. Changes in my own work. All has had an impact — both inside and out. On my focus. My sense of autonomy. My energy.
And I’m seeing this in the people I work with too.
After the long stretch of winter — the grey skies, the waiting, the feeling of being in-between — many of us are longing for things to change. Yet there is often struggle in that waiting.
In Japanese philosophy, there is a deep acceptance of seasonality. Winter isn’t rushed. It is part of the cycle. Mono No Aware is about recognising that nothing lasts forever — and that it’s precisely because things change that they matter so much.
Which brings me to the question I’m holding this month:
How do we choose what to remember — and practise the art of letting go of the rest?
As many of you know, I’ve been delving more deeply into mindfulness. Learning to sit with whatever is present — without struggle, without judgement.
This isn’t passive. It requires focus, awareness and patience.
There is a Japanese aesthetic principle called wabi-sabi — the acceptance of imperfection and transience. It reminds us that nothing is flawless. Nothing is permanent, and nothing is ever truly finished.
What if our past is like that?
What if we don’t overlay our memories with harsh judgement? Instead we allowed them to exist as imperfect, incomplete, and part of a larger whole?
Accepting the past for what it is does not mean we approve of everything that happened. It means we stop fighting reality. And that is where freedom begins.
But then comes the deeper question:
If we let go of judgement… what do we do with meaning?
Surely we don’t erase our experiences and approach every moment as though we have no history. That wouldn’t be realistic — or human.
The Work of Reinterpretation
Instead, perhaps the work is this:
To recognise that our interpretation of what happened is just that — an interpretation. To notice how our reflections shape how we feel. To understand that we are not set in stone.
Through mindfulness, I’m learning to sit with what is — without judgement. To accept the past that feels uncomfortable without constantly re-labelling it as failure, mistake or regret.
This is where wabi-sabi resonates so deeply. The beauty of imperfection, the dignity in things that are worn, incomplete, or weathered by time.
Closely related is kintsugi — the art of repairing broken pottery with gold. Rather than disguising the cracks, they are illuminated. The break becomes part of the beauty.
The Japanese Textile Tradition of Boro
Recently, through an artist friend, I’ve been exploring the Japanese textile tradition of Boro.
Boro emerged from necessity. Old fabrics were patched, layered and stitched together — nothing wasted, nothing discarded. What was worn became something new. Imperfect. Textured. Beautiful.
It reminds me that our past experiences don’t need to be discarded. They are our fabric. The pattern remains — but the shape can change.
Like an old garment cut apart and remade, the memory stays within the weave, yet its future use is different. Choosing — consciously — how to stitch your experiences into who you are becoming.
The Learning
Change doesn’t happen because the calendar says it’s spring.
Change happens because we decide to engage with it.
To invest in ourselves.
To step out of old patterns and try something new, even when it feels unfamiliar.
Upcoming: Mindfulness on YouTube
Starting in March — mindfulness practices on YouTube.
Come and find me on YouTube, subscribe to my channel and engage in mindful practices in your own time. Once I have 100 subscribers, I can begin offering live sessions.
Take a look at my channel, subscribe, and tell me what you’d like to see more of.
Channel: CarrieDubberTherapy@carriedubbertherapy6225
‘Stitch the Past’ — An In-Person Workshop
I’m so excited to be bringing this philosophy into a creative, reflective space.
