Grounded in Clay
Watching videos of artists talking about their relationships to the pieces was mesmerizing. I left feeling eager to get my hands on some clay—or better yet for me—on some wool.
Watching videos of artists talking about their relationships to the pieces was mesmerizing. I left feeling eager to get my hands on some clay—or better yet for me—on some wool.
Maybe Goldilocks had a point. It’s nice to have things just right. To be comfortable. Not too cold; not too hot. Not too hard; not too soft. Not too dark; not too bright.
Have all the fun you can! And, more importantly, may you find light and grace and peace as you move through the holidays and into the new year.
So, how might we know? One of my teachers used to say, “Look for the signs. They’re not always along the road?”
Exhaling fully tells the nervous system that there’s too much carbon dioxide and that there’s too little oxygen. It’s a nice metaphor for other aspects of our lives. What’s building up in our lives that needs to go away, to make space for something fresh?
Even amidst the hustle and bustle of this season, there are some days that are just made for soaking up sunshine.
I wonder if we might find a way to celebrate the wrinkles in our lives, even the wrinkles on our faces. They’re evidence of the nature of living. And living is worth celebrating.
Sometimes we need a pause—even a micro-pause—to consider what we really want to do or say. Other times, we need a pause just to rest.
Sometimes we need rest sentences. Time to do something nourishing, calming or just innocuous. To give a part of ourselves the space to make sense of what we’re experiencing.
As the days get shorter and the nights get longer, our bodies beckon us toward slowing down, perhaps even hibernation. Yet, our culture encourages a frenetic level of activity—shopping, sharing, eating, decorating, celebrating. How might we reconcile these demands on ourselves?