For the past 6 weeks, every Saturday afternoon from 4-6pm, my hands have been immersed in the earth.
In typical Tucson fashion, the clay co-op where I’m taking pottery classes is a delightfully sun-drenched (if not a touch ramshackle) establishment overseen by resident ginger cat, Alfie. An old rusted skoolie is plunked by the street out front beckoning would-be potters into its shade, which is adorned from brick paver to blue sky with ceramics. Every corner you turn there is organized clay chaos, from buckets of reclaimed clay to a wall of glazes and used utensils to a pile of plastic bags and papers, to slab rollers, pottery wheels and various other equipment that is entirely mysterious to me. In every possible earthly inch of space between tucked along shelves there are completed and unfinished cups, mugs, bowls, plates, pots, vases and more.
For those two sacred hours of the week, this class keeps a phone out of my hand and a screen out of my face. I don’t need to make money from whatever I make. I don’t need to know what my precise plan is. There is no grading, and I’m not compelled to perfect the forms. I don’t come up with anything particularly original or impressive. The other day, I made a plate on the wheel using the light pressure of a PVC tube. As I watched our instructor Ariela demonstrate the process beforehand, I questioned whether she was making it look easy or if it actually was, and you know what? It actually was pretty easy. That felt good. (To be clear, plates are way easier than other shapes.)
The IRS defines hobbies as any activity that a person pursues because they enjoy it and with no intention of making a profit. I enjoy this new activity and am confident I will be earning zero dollars from these creations, now and likely forever, so I guess you could say it’s my new hobby. Hobbies are underrated and so often can be healing, and new hobbies perhaps especially so, because there is this sense of freedom of lack of expectation as a beginner. Without any context for what you are capable of doing, there is much less pressure to produce.
I’m finding that my nervous system seems to regulate to the rhythm of this act that is purely for pleasure. The other day I had created a nice bowl on the wheel, excited to have finally finished after working at it for close to 30 minutes. After finishing the form you have to next remove it from the bat which is this plate that goes over the wheel’s spinning surface. To do so, you wet half of the surface, then use a cutting wire tool to slide under the form a few times until it's able to gently slide free. As I was doing this near-final step, I inadvertently brought my foot forward and stepped on the wheel pedal, which sent my bowl flinging to the side, where I then crushed it with my own two hands.
The funniest part of this moment was how perplexed I was, how time seemed to slow down before I realized the error of my ways. Then for the briefest of flashing moments, there was this teeny part of me that felt like I sort of lost my voice, like I couldn’t articulate what I did or why. It was a barely imperceptible blip, but it was there and then it was back to my clay-covered hands and back to my legs and back to my body and then it was like…oh. Followed by laughter. Followed by seeing if the piece could be salvaged, making sure not to touch that pedal again.
On Monday evening, I took a class at my yoga studio on practicing conflict using somatic tools, and the instructor Em explained the concept of nervous system dysregulation in a way I hadn’t really quite heard described, or at least it clicked in a way it never had for me before.
They described how when our nervous system is regulated and we experience something that’s distressing, we typically will have a heightened state of arousal that’s still within the relative “normal range” or referred to as the window of tolerance by Lindsay Braman (and possibly others). Our body will ride out that trigger like the ups and downs of a rollercoaster. But when our nervous system is dysregulated, we’ll often stay stuck in the “off” zone (depression, disassociation, chronic fatigue) or in the “on” zone (anxiety, rage, hyperactivity). In that way, I think of a dysregulated nervous system like a rollercoaster with a mechanical malfunction that’s left it stranded on the track, suspended at the tippy-top (or bottom) of a free fall. From there we are just continuing to experience normal life in a heightened or depressed state, even though the original trigger has since passed. Em is teaching us somatic practices over the course of this workshop series to get into that rollercoaster car’s engine and send it on it way, letting it complete its journey back into the normal range of gentler rise and falls.
It’s been part of my outer-spiraling-life-relearning-process (you know when you learn the same thing again but also you are a little bit wiser but also it becomes harder to learn) to become more aware of just how frequently my nervous system slips into flight response throughout the day (during minor conflicts with a coworker or my partner) and especially during larger moments of conflict or stress (like the time I got robbed in D.C. by some kids with a knife and temporarily lost my voice).
Here are some tell-tale signs of being in a flight response:
Do you feel restless? Are you fidgeting? Ah, yes! My favorite way to deal with stressful situations.
Are you having trouble focusing on the here-and-now? Not if you count the here and now of my Instagram feed, my favorite way to escape the moment
Do you suddenly have the feeling of being trapped and you can’t escape? All too often
Do you find yourself suddenly shifting to other tasks? Check
Are you disengaging or exiting the situation internally? Do you suddenly find that you can’t find the words for what you want to say? Check, check, check
With all that fresh in my mind I couldn’t help but observe that other than being a great new hobby, pottery-making is another powerful somatic practice that gives me the chance to regulate my nervous system. I could later observe my tendency in that split moment of the bowl crushing into my own hands — the part that flashed feels like I’d lost my voice and my bodily agency as the wheel spun away on me “inexplicably.” Who knows how or from where but at one point, that inclination to flee was very clever, an urge that would protect me from threat.
But in front of the wheel my system is able to ride out this mini stressor so I could come back into a gentle wave zone. My hands, of the earth itself, helping to bring me back to safety.
Poll for Fun: What’s Your Go-To Stress Response?
According to Braman: “Not everyone will experience fight, flight, freeze, and fawn. In fact, most people do not experience all of these. Instead, individuals tend to learn in early childhood which response works best to get their needs met (or avoid harm) and, as adults, by default move into that response state when pushed beyond their window of tolerance.”
I thought that it was actually super helpful in my workshop to delve more into the common stress responses and explore my particular felt sensations and emotions while there. Thought it would be a worthwhile exercise — and she has a great tool here.
If you discover or happen to know your default style, feel free to share below anonymously!
Tucson Friends! Aum Yoga Festival
I’m leading an empowered yoga class at 12pm at the Aum Yoga Festival in Tucson! It’s going to be Tucson's FIRST yoga and wellness community event. If you’re in the area you should come check it out…free yoga classes will be happening all day long.
What Else I’m Doing, Reading, Listening To
🧺 Being a basket case. I have recently realized just how frequently I waste time puttering around the house trying to find misplaced items. It takes eleven hours to get out the door sometimes and rather than pathologize myself further I decided to take a tip from the neurodivergent crowd and get some baskets. Now we have a basket in every room of the house and commonly used items get put in a basket so basically anytime I set anything down — hat, keys, phone, running belt, sunglasses, wallet, phone charge, whatever — it goes in a basket. So now I have the distinct pleasure of announcing to Ben three times a day: “It’s in the basket,” even though he never asked for this. On the plus side, it’s helping me!
🐕 On the topic of thrilling domestic updates, we caved and bought a robot vacuum because…dogs.
🎧 I’ve now binged most of Keltie Maguire’s “Kids or Childfree” podcast which I’ve really enjoyed and found refreshingly honest and real. If that feels like a little too much, she also did a season one recap that highlights many of the take-aways.
And for that matter, it is worth sharing this Sept. 2023 read from Ann Friedman, “Against the Parent Vs. Child Free Binary.”
📖 I’m also currently enjoying Instead by Maria Coffey, which is a memoir “about opting for adventure instead of motherhood, and the lifelong outcomes of that choice.” She was interviewed by Maguire and it’s been powerful to get perspective from a woman with some distance of time and perspective about her childfree choice.
🤔 What Relationships Would You Want, if You Believed They Were Possible? (Ezra Klein Show)
April Yoga Playlist
Was it thought out at all, or just paint on a wall?
Is there anything that you regret?
I don't understand, are there blueprints or plans?
Can I speak to the architect?
Sometimes I look in the mirror
And wish I could make a request
Could I pray it away? Am I shapeable clay
Or is this as good as it gets?
-Kacey Musgraves, “The Architect”
Sending you well wishes for a week with at least a few activities that help you regulate your nervous system!
Love,
Kelly
Putting things in a dish or a basket has done more for my personal calm than meditation ever could.
I recently took up ceramics too and everything you say resonates. It's one of the few places that I can really embrace the whole "it's the journey not the destination". Learning not to rush, not to try to control too much, staying present, to stop when I'm happy with it, to make a rainbow when I'm not happy with it, to start again when it falls apart.