A Hobby for Me

I posted this on facebook last Tuesday night:

I heard a piece in NPR this week talking in part about the importance of hobbies unrelated to a person’s career. Apparently the vast majority of Nobel prize winners have one. The thinking is the productive struggle and failure rewires the brain to be more resilient and more solutions-oriented. I started to use this reasoning to justify my new pottery obsession. Then I realized something more important: I don’t need a justification. Pottery—even my terribly lopsided, unpredictable pieces—brings me great joy, and we could all use a little more of that these days. My wish for each of you is that you find one great joy this week just for you—to feed your soul. And a huge thank you to Julie Berkowitz and Brad for helping me find this joy.

I returned to the studio again last night, and I felt it even more deeply.

Julie had an HOA meeting last night, so as soon as we were settled she left us alone--we three potters that tend to be there every Tuesday. The other two are far more skilled than I am, and we have very little in common outside of the studio. We stared at each other wide-eyed--like kids left alone in a candy store. Then we started doing what we always do: glazing, shaping, trying to decide what to try next. We missed our teacher, but we also learned that we know more than we thought.

The studio is always warm thanks to the kiln, and it is tucked into the woods, which adds to the cozy feeling. I realized, though, that I'm also finding community there. We don't talk much, but when we do it's genuine. They asked about my kids. One of us is getting ready to move, and we talked about that. The other is in a doc program, and she finally opened up a little bit about that. We talk about our pieces. And there is often a very comfortable silence where all you hear is the whir of the wheels.

I always leave feeling more centered, and I'm still incredibly grateful to have found this little studio and a hobby that brings me so much joy.