Life Lessons from a Lump of Clay: What Pottery Taught Me About Healing
Just this week, I found myself sitting at a pottery wheel for (what felt like) the very first time *disclaimer: it was actually the second time but my first 2 hour fling in this world of spinning clay 18 months ago, really feels like it didn’t count! A lump of wet clay in front of me and I had absolutely no idea what I was doing.
It was a beginner’s class—my first* attempt at wheel throwing—and I was there to learn how to make four simple bowls.
I thought it would be fun, maybe even meditative. What I didn’t expect was how deeply this experience would mirror the kind of healing work I guide my clients through every day.
Because working with clay?
It demanded everything—my body, my mind, my presence, my patience.
And so does healing.
Here are the lessons that clay gently (and at times not-so-gently) reminded me of—and how they connect to the way we heal, grow, and come back home to ourselves.
1. You have to be all in—body and mind
The wheel won’t lie to you.
If you’re distracted, rushing, or disconnected from your body, the clay responds immediately—it wobbles, slips, collapses.
To shape the bowls, I had to drop out of my head and into my body. I had to feel where my hands wanted to go. Sense when I was pressing too hard or not grounding enough. Tune into my breath. Stay centred, not just on the wheel—but in me.
And healing is the same.
You can’t do it from the neck up. It’s not about thinking your way through.
It’s about feeling—noticing what your body holds, hearing the whispers underneath the noise, allowing emotion and sensation to move.
When I work with clients, we focus on this exact reconnection. Because your body? It’s not the problem.
It’s the pathway.
2. Discomfort is part of the process
At one point, my arms were aching. My hands were tired. My whole body was working in ways it wasn’t used to.
I wanted to stop. I wanted it to feel easier.
But growth—just like shaping clay—requires a certain amount of resistance. It’s not punishment. It’s not a sign something’s wrong. It’s just what happens when we do something new, unfamiliar, or deeply important.
In healing, this discomfort often shows up as old memories surfacing. Emotions that have been buried for years finally being felt. Physical tension that releases with tears.
It’s uncomfortable. But it’s also necessary.
And it’s always temporary.
3. There’s no rushing—and no perfect outcome
I couldn’t force the clay into shape. I couldn’t will it to be perfect. The more I tried to control it, the more it resisted.
So I had to surrender to the process. Let it take the time it needed. Trust that each bowl would become what it was meant to be, even if it looked different than I expected.
Healing is just like that.
You can’t force clarity, or hurry your way to confidence. You can’t skip the messy middle. And the outcome? It might not look like a neat little “healed” version of you—because healing isn’t about perfection.
It’s about coming home to yourself, as you are.
4. Compassion matters more than criticism
Some of my bowls came out with big bumps in the centre. One was more than a little rough around the edges. Another looked considerably wonky. And you know what? I loved them anyway.
I could have judged myself. (Old patterns would have loved that.)
But instead, I chose compassion. Curiosity. Even pride—for showing up, for trying, for learning, for asking for help.
That’s the energy I bring into my client sessions, too.
There is no part of your healing journey that deserves shame. Not the part of you that copes in ways you don’t understand. Not the part that’s still scared. Not even the part that wants to give up.
You’re not here to be perfect. You’re here to be present.
5. Ask for help—but do the work
I have a wonderful pottery teacher —patient, kind, encouraging.
But she didn’t shape my bowls for me.
She stood by, offered guidance, showed me techniques, and gently corrected me when I got off balance. But ultimately, it was my hands on the clay.
And that’s exactly how I see my role as a practitioner and coach.
I’m not here to fix you. I don’t have all the answers.
But I do know how to walk beside you as you find them for yourself.
Because your healing is yours.
I’m just here to hold the space and keep reminding you: I see your potential, you’ve got this.
6. Don’t compare—just connect
In that class, everyone was at a different stage. Some had done this before. Some made beautiful pieces with ease. Others, like me, were new and figuring it out one wobbly bowl at a time.
It would have been easy to compare. But comparison would’ve stolen the joy. So I chose connection instead—celebrating what others made, staying in my own lane, and enjoying my process.
Healing isn’t a competition.
Your trauma doesn’t have to be “bad enough” to be valid. Your pace isn’t too slow. And your emotions aren’t too much.
You’re allowed to take your time. You’re allowed to be exactly where you are.
Your body is the clay. You are the artist.
So if you're feeling lost, disconnected, or stuck in pain (emotional or physical), I want you to know:
You are not broken.
You are not too far gone.
And you do not have to do this alone.
Your healing will take time. It might feel uncomfortable. It might get messy.
But it will also bring you back to your centre. Back to your body. Back to your truth.
And I’ll be right here beside you—guiding, supporting, and reminding you of what’s possible when you return to yourself.
Ready to begin your healing journey?
My 1:1 sessions and packages are for women who are ready to heal the emotional roots of their symptoms, life circumstances, or diagnoses—so they can move forward with clarity, confidence, and a deep sense of self-trust.
Email me michelle@flotsamholistics.com or book a free connection call.
Let’s see if it’s time for you to step up to your own wheel
With compassion and clay-covered hands,
Michelle x
Emotional Root Cause Practitioner & EFT Coach
FlotsamHolistics.com