Three pots

Capturing the learning from three lumps of clay.

I pulled three new pots on Thursday. Each one taught me something about how to show up when you (I) don't know what you're (I'm) doing.

With the first pot, I went in confident. Too confident. This isn't that hard, I remember thinking, right before I pulled the clay up too quickly and the rim collapsed against itself in an uneven clump. I wasn't anchored, which meant my strength was coming from my arms, not my core. The clay was centered but I wasn't. I was chit-chatting, my attention flitting around the room.

On the wheel the clay functions as an extension of the potter, a physical embodiment of your intent. It tells the truth. The ruined rim revealed my hidden intention to rush, to get as many pots done in one sitting as possible. I was trying to be productive, a high performer - a star student. The clay responded to my urgency and my lack of mastery, and collapsed.

Lesson 1: Stop rushing. You can't hack mastery.

My second pot, I went in scared. Gunshy. I took forever centering the clay, digging my elbow into my hip to ensure I was pulling from my core. My body was centered but solid, a block of stone. I turned my wheel speed way down, and meticulously and slowly tried to execute each step. The clay was tired of being worked before I even started pulling, because I kept coning and flattening trying to get things exactly, precisely perfect. Taking my time like this felt intentional, but I was play-acting being mentally grounded. The clay told the truth. This pot came out fragile, overworked, and with an impossibly thin rim. Yes it held together (an improvement?) but I had executed each detail too precisely. This pot could not live up to its own standards. My fear of making mistakes made my work clunky and fussy. Even if this pot survives firing, it is too weak and finnicky for daily use.

Lesson 2: Being afraid of making mistakes will not protect you from making mistakes. It might make things worse.

I took a deep breath before slapping the third wedge of clay on the wheel, trying to absorb the lessons of the first two pots without elevating my anxiety. This is fun, I reminded myself. This is just for fun?

This pot centered quickly and pulled beautifully. The cylinder stood up from the wheel as if this was the shape the clay had always intended to take, and my hands were merely helping it into place. I felt myself slip into the flow zone, not mindless but mindfully focused. I slowed the wheel to a stop and looked at my work. YES! The pot was well shaped, solid, strong. Except...there was a little extra blip of clay on the rim. I turned the wheel back on, just to fix that one bit. I turned the wheel off...but as I looked closely, I could see something else to fix. I turned the wheel on again. My teacher glanced at me. I turned the wheel back off. I'll sand that down later, I said. She was obviously relieved. Watching me nitpick my pretty little pot to death was clearly stressing her out.

Lesson 3: Perfectionism is the enemy of flow.

I will be incorporating all three of these lessons into my coaching this week. All of them boil down to this: Be where you are. Practice mindful attention. Don't let fear of making mistakes lead. Don't be a in such a hurry to get better. Seek flow, not perfection.

I'll let you know how it goes.