Who would have thought that clay is the new vogue in mindfulness?
I haven’t been on a potter’s wheel for years. It was something I used to do many years ago and I do remember that there was something incredibly calming and grounding about shaping clay with my hands — the feeling of being in total flow, present, and connected, and now I can see why this beautiful, ancient art is making a powerful return.
Clay invites us to slow down. It has no time for multitasking. You can’t scroll through your phone while you’re covered in slip and elbow-deep in a mound of earth. And that’s exactly why it’s such a gift. In a world that’s racing by, that demands constant digital engagement, there’s something liberating about letting yourself be fully immersed in something tactile and real.
Mindfulness doesn’t always have to look like meditation cushions and silence. Sometimes, it looks like getting your hands dirty. The simple acts of pinching, kneading, coiling, or carving clay bring us into the present moment. They calm the mind by focusing our attention on touch, form, texture, and movement. It’s sensory, it’s creative, and it’s deeply meditative — without even trying to be.
Pottery, like yoga, breathwork, or gardening, is a practice. It’s not about being perfect. In fact, it’s often the irregular, slightly wonky bowl or the unexpectedly lopsided mug that ends up holding the most charm — and teaching us the most. Clay humbles us. You can go in with a plan, but the clay may have something else in mind. You learn to adapt, to listen, to let go of the outcome. It becomes a dance of surrender and patience.
There’s also something incredibly rewarding about creating something with your own two hands — something you’ll actually use. A mug you sip your morning tea from. A bowl that sits on your windowsill and catches the light. These small, handmade moments reconnect us to a simpler, more intentional way of living. And every time you use them, you’re reminded of the moment you made them. That feeling stays with you.
It’s not just about nostalgia or trendiness (though it’s certainly found its way into fashionable circles again). It’s about the need we all have — especially now — to reconnect. To slow down. To breathe. To do something just for the joy of it. Something real, messy, and beautifully imperfect.
Bringing children back into doing these kinds of arts is important too — they need this just as much as we do — but perhaps it starts with us. If we, as adults, can reclaim creative play, the satisfaction of making with our hands, and the grounding force of the earth itself, we set the tone. We make space for presence, for joy, and for slowing down.
So whether it’s wheel-throwing, hand-building, or just having a go with air-dry clay at the kitchen table, I can’t recommend it enough. Let it be messy. Let it be fun. Let it be imperfect.
And let me know — are you going to take up the art of the pot again?