
Holding clay in my hands makes me feel very human. So does hanging clothes in the early morning sunlight, clasping the cloth firmly to a line with the same wooden hanger clips my grandma used. Rolling film into the body of a clunky old camera and pointing the lens at the dripping clothes also stirs up feelings of humanity. So does clipping a leash on my dogs collar and strolling quietly with a coffee mug in my hand. Lighting incense in my glowing studio after the sun goes down, pinching clay up to form a vase and listening to Katie Crutchfield’s voice dance off the brick walls, brings that same swell of humanity in my chest.
I began to wonder what things make other people feel human, so I started to notice. My partner seems to feel human when he’s outside, cutting tree limbs so others can grow, watering plants with great care, generally tending to the land (evidence of his work in the piles of branches stacked behind my clothes in the film photo at the beginning of this post). I find my clients desiring to write poetry and pick up cameras and dip brushes into paints. I see friends earnestly mothering tiny humans and others mothering breathtaking books and others loving nature so fiercly that they live in a national park. I listen to a colleague wax poetic about her needlepoint and another about tattooing ink into her skin. I watch humans as they form gold into rings for fingers, carve tarot symbols into clay, run every single day for ten years straight.
These things we love, that bring us peace and make us feel like ourselves, that connect us with something greater than just us - a broader community or a grand spirit or a natural force or a universe I’ll never understand - they make us human. We find ourselves dipping into the flow state they generate, that space that feels subliminal, where we lose sense of time and fill our bones with a sense of wholeness.
My therapist recently gave me some homework - you’re an artist, she gently reminded me, take some time to create something this week. As soon as the words slipped out of her mouth, I realized that, aside from my meditations in clay project, I hadn’t let my hands form anything out of clay in months. I was lost, and the way out was finding that sense of wholeness through the thing that makes me feel most human. So I set aside some precious time and made something just for me. The act of creating connected me back to myself, to some greater unknown spirit, to a sense of peace.
So now I ask you - what makes you feel human? What is it that brings your body so much peace you forget time exists? What brings you back to yourself? If you don’t know - that’s okay! - go ahead and try something new, maybe you haven’t found it yet. May you muster the courage to explore as you find your thing and may you be gentle on yourself as you seek it. We’re all connecting to ourselves and the spirit of the universe in our own ways, on our own timelines.
Wishing us all expansiveness in that beautiful flow state, doing whatever it is that makes us feel very human.
my therapy practice books are open for new yorkers! i love working with humans who are feeling anxious, working through grief and frustration and transitions, wanting to process past traumatic events. send me an email to schedule a free consult! *please know that, because of licensing, you must be based in new york state for us to work together!*
i’ve found my creative ritual and grounding sessions to be a beautiful space of healing and quiet and am grateful to offer them far and wide. learn more about how you can ground with me using clay and your breath + find your way if you’re feeling a little unsteady here (and use the code HEALINGCLAY for $11 off!)
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