Learning When to Stop
Lessons from pottery class.
My 15-year-old daughter and I have been taking pottery classes for a little over a year. It's been an amazing bonding experience for us and a practice of patience and slowing down for me. I was so discouraged when we first started. Working with the clay on the wheel was so hard to get the hang of. After a few classes, I realized the challenge was coming from my habit of rushing and wanting to move on to the next thing. Our teacher told me last year: You need to slow down. This is a meditation. Work with the clay, not against it. Learn when to stop.
That took a long while to set in. Even when I was going slow, I was moving too fast. I could not get the hang of throwing because I wasn’t allowing myself to take my time. I remember wanting to quit after a few months because all my pots were wonky and poorly made. I was discouraged and frustrated, but every single week I kept going to class. Meanwhile, my artist daughter mastered ceramics. She was throwing 9 lbs of clay in less than six months, lol, of course. I have her vases and vessels all over our house. They’re stunning. Watching her at the wheel was also a really beautiful reminder for me to slow my roll and take in this very special time with my girl.
Finally, this year, after many classes, I found myself slowing down at the wheel. One day, it just clicked. I’d gotten into a groove, and I was mesmerized by the symmetry of the spinning clay, turned cup, in my hands. My brain, heart, and body were finally on the same page. Slowly shaping Earth into something I was really proud of and deeply grateful for.
The older I get, the more I realize how sacred slowing down is. It’s a reminder for me to trust that I’m allowed to lean in, put down the urge to rush, and pay close attention to what’s in front of me.
Pottery has been a wonderful teacher in my life. It’s brought me a sense of awe and self-awareness that I was lacking before. I’ve learned to pay attention in new ways learning this craft. Paying attention—that was the most challenging part. I didn’t want to just wing this new hobby, I wanted to truly learn. I didn’t just want to learn how to throw and make things—but also how to be present in and with my body when doing so. Over the last 18 months or so, I have uncovered what it means to truly have a beginner’s mind and to be open to learning something new and difficult without the remnants of shame and guilt that tend to linger in our minds.
Going to the studio every week is healing for me. It feels like I meet myself in new ways every time I make something. When I sit at the wheel, I give myself permission to play, fail, and have fun. I remind myself to stop when it’s time and slow down when I need to. I’ve learned to leave my rushing and perfectionism at the door. I am grateful that I stuck with this practice. I’m deeply grateful for the love-filled studio that we go to, too. There’s something life-changing about the places in our lives that feel like safety and home.
Community: What’s something new that you’re learning, or want to learn, that will require you to slow down and be present?
PS. Registration for cohort 2 of my Healing Together program is open. We start next month. During our 6 weeks together, will be using writing to heal, art practice, and mindfulness to unfold and stand in our power. There are only 20 spots left. You can learn more and register at the link below.
Being present. Although Im in love with being in flow with creativity, I too need to prioritize stopping. Whenever I pause, I get to savor life’s grander gifts. Breath, sensations, lightness.
LOOOVVVEEEE!!!!!