Forces of Nature

Sometimes, things are just out of your control. 

It's one thing to know this intellectually; it's another entirely to be present with your out-of-control thing and just be with it without trying to wrestle it into compliance with what you want it to be or make it somehow fit with what you had planned. Things just go off the rails on occasion.

The pot you worked so hard on for weeks falls off the shelf and flattens on the floor, gets too dry when you come back to work on it, or flies off the wheel or collapses.

Or perhaps your autistic adult son has a sudden period of behavior so challenging that his program suspends him. He is melting down multiple times a day, and you find yourself in an immediately tiny world of hyper-focus and daily survival.

The pots that collapse or just don't come out as we wanted in the end may seem insignificant when life throws us a seriously fucked up curveball, but they are not.
They are the practice.
They are how we get better at riding the waves of inspiration, disappointment, pride, gratitude, crushing defeat, and abject failure. And then keep going. 

Perhaps we understand this intellectually, but do we truly feel this in the moment? Must we acknowledge the current situation and find peace with it? Should we be "grateful" for the life lesson? 

Hell no.

Riding the wave isn't easy.
When its 20-foot swells and we're hanging on for dear life, it isn't fucking appropriate to be smiling. 
You better be on high alert and sailing the shit out of your boat, or you're going to drown. 
But can you be ok with feeling like you could drown at any moment? That is the challenge.

On the flip side, when you're in a flow, can you ride that wave without unintentionally waiting for the "other shoe to drop"?

******

I was in a groove with the new studio configuration, plans for more frequent workshops, and building this business. My son, Jackson (23 with profound autism and intellectual disability) was in a program, doing well, and after many years of uncertainty, I felt like I could move forward with something I loved, something for me.

Cue the dropping of said "other shoe"—a lead boot right on my head.

Major aggressive behaviors that resulted in his being suspended from his program and home with us. All day and night.

What should I DO? That's always the first question, right? What to do?

Can I save this pot? What if I pretend I meant it to be this way? If I cut off this part, or try to re-attach the broken piece...? At what point do I say, that's enough and start with new clay, seek help with a new technique, or ask more questions along the way to prevent the same outcome?

Of course, we can take actions to improve things with my son, to help him feel better.
A new medication.
Well, that made things markedly worse! All-day aggression. Fear and heartbreak.
Now, what to do?
Suddenly, our world became the four walls of our house, and everything outside of that became secondary.

All of YOU, all of my passion, much of my joy.
Secondary.
Not a good feeling.
What to DO? How to ride this wave?

What I learned over my way too many years is that to push away feelings of despair, pain, heartache, sadness, fury, and even resentment is to prolong them.
To be with them is hard.

It's not easy to let go of the fact that this piece simply isn't going to work with my current skill set or at this moment. I could keep trying the same techniques, but perhaps it's best to just put it to the side for a bit. Go back to basics. Sit with the discomfort and just be with what is. Get support. Ask for help. Ask questions.

This is much easier to do with support, being seen and heard without judgment, with community.

I tell you all of this because I am adamant that we are a community—a community of seekers, learners, artists, and fellow humans on the same journey through life on this planet. Because I can't be anything other than authentically myself. Also, thank you for your kindness and understanding these past couple of weeks. For holding space for me, whether you knew you were doing that or not.
Let's keep making. Together. Let's help each other to keep going when we think it's no use and to let go when it's time. Let's ask more questions, be curious, kind, and compassionate, and always, always, come back to the practice.
Thank you, my friends.

I was sure I missed the boat on Thursday night seeing the aurora. But lo and behold, there was another round and I was gifted this view.!

We are in a better place this week.
​Registration is open for next session which begins on Oct. 28th, and we have made some movement to have support for Jackson so I can focus on all of you.