Thursday, February 11, 2016

When life gets frantic: Throw.

Too many emails.  Too many problems. Too many voices with too many demands and conflict.  What do you do?  Run? Eat chocolate? Drink a bottle of Chardonnay?

I throw.  

I know it doesn't sound like throwing a five pound ball of clay on a wheel and wrestling it into a bowl would be the thing to do under difficult circumstances, but it is.  I've thrown mad and sad and tired. And every time, even with every feeling, I come away calmer, happier and refreshed.  Now that doesn't mean it's all rainbows and unicorns, either.  Believe me, when I'm in a difficult state, the clay knows it.  I slam it down.  I push it around and, even, wrestle it into submission.  

But somewhere between the throwing and the shaping, I shape up.

I don't see it in the moment.  There is just a lump of clay spinning on the wheel.  All I feel is the bumps and lumps that need to be smoothed, the wobbles that need to be held and centered and sides that need to be pulled up evenly.  I stop watching the wheel go round and round and close my eyes or focus on the spots on the floor of my garage.  And somewhere, somehow during this process, I look down and there's a vase or a bowl on my wheel.

It's a mystery.  Just like my favorite quote from the movie, 'Shakespeare in Love', "It all turns out well in the end. How? I don't know, it's a mystery."       

When the world get crazy, I throw. 

You can call me crazy.  It's ok.  I can take it.  Just don't take away my wheel.  

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