Trust the Process: Life Lessons from Pottery

When I took my first pottery class, I thought I was just going to learn how to make mugs and bowls. What I didn’t realize was that the clay would become one of my greatest teachers. Pottery has given me courage when I doubted myself, patience when I wanted control, and perspective when things didn’t go as planned. It’s taught me to slow down, to embrace imperfection, and to trust that growth often happens quietly. In honor of World Mental Health Day, I wanted to share what pottery has taught me, not just about clay, but about life itself.

• Resilience. When I first started learning, it wasn’t pretty 😊. The old stories I used to tell myself, you’re not good enough, you aren’t talented enough, stick to what you know, got loud. But I kept showing up. Through all the wobbly bowls and collapsed walls, I learned that simply showing up and trying is enough. That lesson has carried me through everything, from endurance sports to business ownership to life itself.

• Trust the Process. Pottery will humble even the biggest control freak. You can’t control how the clay dries, how the glaze reacts, or how the kiln fires. You just have to do your part and let go. Trusting that, somehow, it all works out in the end has been one of the most healing lessons of all.

• Patience. In a world of constant urgency, pottery forced me to slow down. You can’t rush clay, if you do, it cracks, slumps, or rebels in some spectacular way. I’ve learned to breathe, move slower, and act with intention instead of reaction.

• Beauty in Imperfection. I spent much of my life chasing “perfect”, in work, relationships, motherhood. Clay finally taught me what therapy hadn’t: perfection doesn’t exist. That collapsed bowl might turn into something more interesting. A “mistake” might become a beautiful design element. Imperfection is beauty.

• Failure. Pottery is a masterclass in screwing up. You fail constantly, and you learn constantly. I used to fear failure, but clay showed me it’s just part of growth. Now I welcome it. Each cracked mug or uneven pot is proof that I’m learning, that I’m trying.

• Focus and Balance. For most of my life, I was always “on”, overworking, overdoing, overthinking. Pottery forced me to leave it all at the door , the phone, the to-do list, the noise. It gave me a space to breathe, to focus, to create for the simple joy of creating.

• Courage. I never thought of myself as an artist, that was my beautiful sister Michelle, the true creative. But clay changed that story. It gave me the courage to try, to fail, to try again. That courage eventually led me to leave my safe, full-time job, move across the country, and open Ceramic Souls.

Pottery continues to teach me every day. Some lessons are small, a reminder to slow down or breathe through frustration. Others run deep, healing after heartbreak, reshaping how I see myself and the world around me. The clay doesn’t care about perfection; it only asks that you show up, stay present, and keep trying. And honestly, that’s the work of being human, too.