Clay in the hands of an accomplished potter

 

The other morning I had clay in my hands. I joined the class of three – the other two members of the class were my 10 year old granddaughter and another girl aged 8 years. Together, we created bowls, jugs and I a soap dish. We had a Faith with Kay Olgivy creating a large bowllovely morning, each taking our turn waiting for the accomplished potter and sculptor, Kay Olgivy, help us along. Time of course was irrelevant, morning tea time came and went and so engrossed were we, the end of class came before any of us were expecting it. My granddaughter remarked, “it was so quick and so long this morning.” We are eagerly awaiting the call back when the firing is completed and we can begin our lesson on glazing.

How different was the pattern of time for me today. With my husband Bruce, I am cleaning and painting our former home getting it ready to sell. I noticed my old foe, Self-Pity creeping in this morning and time dragged. In reality, I do not need to be pitied. I have so much going for me and live a wonderfully privileged life. It is just that I resented being back in the house, still cleaning it up. Yet it needs to be done to get the best possible sale price and of course I will be one of the two who benefit from a good sale.

While feeling just a little resentful, and noticing the self-pity, I also noticed myself noticing my attitude and emotions. Walking the Camino de Santiago and my subsequent writing of Kiwi on the CAmino: A Walk that Changed my Life has made me so much more self-aware. So instead of continuing to feel miserable about my lot today, I was able to think ahead and at the same time appreciate how much work Bruce has put in over the past four weeks. His has been the lion’s share of the work. He is exhausted but continues to whistle and sing as he goes about his work.

I became my own potter, reshaping me as the clay, turning me from an ugly resentful figure, into one that could appreciate the work both Bruce and I are doing to get our former home ready to sell. What a gift both walking the Camino and writing about the walk have been. Instead of wallowing in the self-pity and being grumpy, I was able to keep going, looking forward to the finished result and grateful I know myself just a little bit more than previously.

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