Patience as a practice

14th October 2022

My journey with ceramics these last two years has mainly been about learning the art of patience. Patience in the process, patience in oneself, patience with the slowness for the various stages of creating, and waiting in hope to see if your efforts bare fruit as you see what comes out of the kiln. A little like life, never knowing what the outcome will look like but always hoping for the best. And trying again if not.There are many variables out of one’s control, again similarly in life, variables in temperature, material, even one’s mood that one brings to the table when sitting down to create something. Each new exploration for me starts with a sense of unknowing, an uncertainty of the blank white empty open space that one always faces when starting a new piece or creative project. I have grappled with a lot of discomfort at these beginning stages, wanting to already know what the outcome will look like, trying to control the end product, and inevitably feeling paralysed at starting. I have realised this unrealistic pressure was taking the joy out of creating for me, and not allowing for that intangible creative spark, that state of flow, that does not come when there are too many rules and unrealistic expectations. I have slowly started to let the unknown into the creative process and allow what needs to unfold to unfold. As Carol de Giere writes:

In our material lives, letting go seems to require a reversal of good fortune, which is one reason we often resist it. We spend years accumulating whatever supports our comfort, and at some point, we realize we must cut back or that we’ve outgrown our interest in a piece of clothing, furniture, or anything else. It turns out that grasping and hoarding isn’t particularly satisfying. To experience abundance requires accepting the ebb and the flow of life’s tides. The same holds for non-material aspects of our lives, like career decisions or relationship choices.