A Silent Pause
Funny things happen on the way to the potter's wheel.
Back in January, I was faced with the awareness that my roof would soon need to be replaced. So I sat down at the wheel, to center myself as well as a small lump of clay. This meditation practice had never failed me.
I set out to throw 100 cups. And I also gave myself the deadline for April. ( I held other jobs at the time). The shapes emerged, plain and simple, just the way life should be. And once again, my thoughts were focused on the process of giving and receiving. It was then I decided to, when completed, add one of my own poems to each cup, carefully typed up, and they, too, would be "spun" into a scroll. I thought perhaps I would sell each one to make a dent in the overwhelming early estimate I had received on the roof.
Everyday spent at the wheel, my project's details would spin in my mind as the clay spun in my hands. I have developed a sensitive and intimate relationship with clay. I understand her language, and she understands mine. It is not about creating the perfect pot, though we always strive to do so. It is in the process of giving and receiving. Moreover, of receiving and giving. And therein lies the gem.
Words can assist in making connections, but they can also jam in making it impossible to connect. If I say it is in the giving and the receiving, one might construe, that giving comes first, then receiving. Or the other way around, it is in the receiving and the giving, one might also construe that we must receive first, then give back. There is a silent pause in each of those statements. A powerful pause, that many might not be aware of, and yet act upon it daily, on a perfectly innocent, subconscious level. "I didn't receive, therefore why should I give?" or I gave, why am I not receiving?" As I said it is usually on the subconscious level. But what if I could type "receiving/giving/receiving/giving/receiving/giving/receiving/ and so on but have it in a circle, without beginning or ending. And furthermore this circle of receiving/giving would form a tunnel of spiraling energy, without beginning or ending.
The story of 100 cups and 100 poems is the story of just that sort of experience.
I began with giving, hoping to receive. Thankfully, I allowed space for Spirit to move within the process, imprinting Her changes along the way. The cups were done, the poems were done, and then the pandemic hit, creating a pause in my project. It was a time to wait, to allow for further percolating. Pauses can be a wondrous space for deeper introspection as well as surrendering to a deeper level of trust, which is exactly what I did.
I was richly rewarded and blessed in so many ways. But that is enough for now, except to say thank you to all those who reached out to me during those times. Each one of you are a gift, to me, to this community and to yourself.
I will be writing the full length story of 100 cups 100 poems and when done, will post a link for those interested. The question I want to leave you with is this. Can you give unconditionally, no strings attached? Now can you receive, with grace, unconditionally and no strings attached? My guess is that most of us are better at giving than receiving. There is no separation between the two.