I Sat With Clay In My Hands For Forty Minutes And Felt My Thoughts Finally Slow Down To The Speed Of Touch

Dear Delyara, Not producing something brilliant. Not even knowing exactly what I was making. Just the simple fact that my hands had something to do that was not administration, not care work, not cleaning, not feeding, not responding, not solving, not proving. Clay makes you stay. That is what I forgot. It slowed me to the pace of contact. Pressure. Shape. Texture. And for forty minutes my mind stopped leaping ahead to bills, children, work, or old conversations. It followed my hands instead. That felt deeply human. And healing in a way I don’t think productivity ever is. I am beginning to understand that some hobbies don’t merely entertain. They return the body to itself.