Pottery Class, Beach Rose Budding, and Launching Your Own Story
My husband is allowed to put his foot down once in a while,
and this weekend, he put his foot down about my Facebook use. The litany of
recent reports about Facebook’s abuse of its users’ privacy and just the
general laying open of one’s life on social media platforms like Facebook finally made him worried enough
that he asked me to close my account. So, my account has been closed.
There’s no question that I, like most others, have become
social media-dependent. There’s also no doubt that it may not be wise to go on
sharing my life with the world. As my husband pointed out, there are a few
people in the world who just don’t have our highest and best interests in mind and
who may very well be checking us out on Facebook.
It’s a sad fact of life that we all have old acquaintances,
ex-spouses and partners, and even children whose anger, bitterness, and desire
to harm are all bundled together in an absolutely pathological package. Yes, my
husband is right about that. It makes me sad that these people may be watching and hoping for the worst,
but there it is.
I’ll still use Instagram and this blog as a means of
spreading a message of veganism, kindness, gardening, animal compassion,
and respect for Mother Earth. Social media can be great for reaching out, but it's true - you have to be choosy about how much you share with the world.
Happier news! This week, I begin a two-month course on
raku-yaki pottery making at a local pottery studio. I studied pottery making at
the wonderful Guilford Arts Center a few years ago (I also studied blacksmithing there at
the center’s incredible forge), and loved it. I’ve since been fascinated with
raku-yaki and beautiful pottery chawans.
This course quickly fills up each term, and I always miss the mark, then hop on the
waiting list. Up until now, I’ve had no luck, but this past weekend, the
director called to tell me that someone had to drop out before the term began
and asked would I be interested in taking the spot.
I wasted no time registering for the class. If you’ve ever
been at the pottery wheel, you’ll know what I mean when I say that pottery
making is one of the most prayerful and soul-opening practices there is. I love
the feel of the cool clay spinning between my hands, and the smell of the
studio and the warmth of the hot kiln. People who are drawn to pottery making are definitely
of my tribe, and that’s another blessing I'll enjoy.
This last-minute opening in this course is an incredible
gift and I plan to enjoy it to the max. I’m enchanted with
Japanese chawans. They’re gorgeous and utilitarian. They lift the tea ceremony
to a new and beautiful level. What an amazing way to welcome spring.
Life is meant to be lived joyously. The things we don’t do are far more important than we think. Since I
married, I’ve been yearning to get back into the pottery studio. Up until now, I haven't done that.
I’ve been busy honoring duties outside of
myself and not listening enough to that still voice that tells me what I need to do to
feed spirit. I love my job, and I adore my husband. My family and I love and
honor each other – there are no trifling arguments or bad blood between us.
My beautiful brothers and I have never quarreled. My mother and I talk every
day.
But there’s also the fact of me. It’s OK to quiet
the silly voices in the mind that chatter too much and too loudly, but it’s crucial
to heed the ones that are subtle and persistent. Is there a subtle, persistent
voice in your head that appears and reappears, often for years, telling you
that you need to act on something? I urge you to listen to it.
It might be time to launch
your story. Women in particular spend so much time caretaking – extending compassion, empathy and love to others – that we neglect to give ourselves
some of that same medicine.
Maybe you want to sculpt or paint, or get into the forge
and make magic out of iron (it’s amazing, believe me). Or maybe you want to write,
or travel to the other side of the globe. Or you want to find a
lifetime partner, marry, and build a loving home together. Do it. Take the
plunge. Go.
This morning, I carried some Easter cards to our mailbox
near the front of the house. A large beach rose bush we bought in Martha’s
Vineyard several years ago is planted there in our flower garden. And covering
the beach plum bush this morning are fat, glossy leaf buds. Spring is here, Alleluia!
Today, I’m feeling grateful – grateful for the love and
loyalty of my family, for the affection and constancy of my wonderful husband,
for our simple and beautiful home, for our life-giving gardens, for the warmth
and company of our animals, for the companionship of our friends, for the
chance to return to the pottery studio, for the opportunity to be of service to others. And soon, I’ll be
writing here about our amazing gardens.
Barbie xo
