A Word from Sarah Ban Breathnach
“Everything you’ve ever loved
is part of the riddle of you..”
~ Sarah Ban Breathnach, Simple Abundance
I vividly remember the first time I bought a piece of handmade pottery. The year was 2000 (basically ancient history now), and I was a freshman in college shopping for gifts for my family at a craft market in north Georgia. From the moment I touched that first handmade mug, I felt a zing. More than anything in the world, I wanted to make something out of clay. There was no logical reason for the feeling. Still, I couldn’t deny it. I spent the next year in and out of a paint-your-own-pottery studio trying to scratch the itch, but I could never quite get at it. . .
I got busy after that. I forgot about that mug. I forgot about the zing.
Twelve years later, another craft market, another stall with pottery for sale, but this time, I was home with a sick baby. My parents took my oldest son to the craft fair without me, and when he walked in the door with a present for me from a pottery stall, my eyes filled with tears. “I bought you this spoon rest, mama,” he said. I tried to hide what I was feeling. I didn’t quite understand it. The zing had chased me down.
I kept that handmade spoon rest. I still have it. It has sat on my stove in every place I’ve lived since. It even traveled to 48 states with us in the Airstream over seven years of full-time travel and somehow survived. There’s one small chip on the bottom but otherwise, it’s perfect. All these years, it has served as a reminder of that zing. Just a little reminder.
As soon as we stopped traveling full-time and settled into a house that didn’t pose a threat to breakable things, I started buying more pottery. In the six years since, I’ve bought heaps of handmade mugs and bowls at craft markets and pottery studios wherever I can find them. I love the way they feel in my hands. I love the way they help me feel the zing over and over again.
Then, in 2024, I finally joined a beginner pottery class. The things I made were trash, of course (everyone’s is at first), but I loved everything about it. I loved the feel of clay on my hands, how long it took to make one little useful thing. I loved painting my own creations and trying out different glazes. I loved the mess of it all and how I left every class wanting more. And when the six-week class was over, I promised myself I’d be back.
But I got busy again. We traveled again. We bought a house and moved. All the classes nearby were full. But this time, I didn’t forget about the zing.
I waited, I watched, I tried some one-off classes, and when a 12-week class opened within an hour or so’s drive of my new hometown, I pounced and got a spot. And as of last Saturday, I’ve officially started as a beginner potter again. This time I’ll be in class for 3+ hours for 12 straight Saturdays, learning the ropes, getting my hands super dirty, making whatever I want just for fun, wasting all kinds of time and gas money on a hobby I never intend to turn into anything other than a pleasurable pursuit. And I’m swimming in zing, even if everything I’m making could use significant improvement ⤵
Why does this matter even one little bit, especially when there are so many more important things than hobbies right now? When so many people are hurting, so many are looking for jobs and don’t have money to spare, and prices on necessities are shockingly higher and higher?
It matters because of this ⤵
“When you acknowledge your romantic impulses, no matter how implausible or impractical, you strengthen the intimate connections with your Authentic Self. Connection with those who cherish and love you unconditionally. Connection with those things that fuel your passions, nourish your soul, keep you alive. . .
Everything you’ve ever loved is part of the riddle of your incandescent mystery, inimitable style, and inevitable good; the life you should be living now, the life that’s been waiting in the wings. It whispers the next line in the one woman show of your dreams, ‘Go for it’ . . .”
~ Sarah Ban Breathnach
It matters because each of us matters.
You matter. Who you really are matters. What you love matters.
Even if it’s implausible or impractical.
Even if it’s not just one thing, it will always cost you money, and you’ll never turn it into a business.
Even if it takes 26 years to find your way to it.
It matters because it’s you, and there’s only one you, and as far as we know, we only get one chance at this version of ourselves, so unless we explore all the parts of us we can, we might miss something we can never, ever get another chance to explore.
I wonder, what’s your romantic impulse?
What does your zing feel like?
How did it find you?
What are you doing to step closer to it?
If you’re up for sharing, send me a message
{The quotes above are from Sarah Ban Breathnach’s Simple Abundance, a daily reader originally published in 1995. I read the 2019 anniversary edition reprint. If you’ve been in this little book club of mine for any length of time, you’ve probably noticed I’m a huge fan of Simple Abundance. It’s the book I recommend the most by far.}
Here’s what I’m reading right now ⤵
WHAT’S ON MY NIGHTSTAND
I’m thoroughly into The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo this week, kind of wishing I could put some things on hold and finish it before the new Rebecca Yarros Threshing Day comes out on Tuesday. *sigh
WHAT’S IN MY EARBUDS
I loved the final chapters of Fallow by Sarah Anderson (such a good turn of events towards the end!), and now I’ve started Exit Party by Emily St. John Mandel, a dystopian future story. I like it so far, but it’s heavy, so I’m alternating between it and one of the best personal development books in my Libro library Think Like a Monk (I’m out of Libro credits until the 29th, and I always re-read stuff in my library when I’m waiting for those credits to hit my account. #smartypants)
WHAT’S IN MY MORNING BASKET
I’m finally moving on from Austin Kleon’s books on creativity thanks to a little book that caught my eye while wasting time at the library a while back — Writing Down the Bones by Natalie Goldberg. Evidently it was first published in 1986, and revolutionized the way writing is taught in and out of classrooms all over. I loved it from the first page and immediately snagged a used copy on Thriftbooks for under $6, because I need to underline some stuff (or maybe everything).
WHAT’S ON MY WEEKEND TBR LIST
The newest issue of Downeast Magazine arrived this week, and I’m so excited to read it. The title article is called “Into the Woods”, and the cover is so utterly fall I can’t wait to dive in. It’s definitely into the woods season here in Maine, by the way (photo proof below).
What about you? Read any good books lately?
I’d love to know :) Send me a message
✌🏼️💓 📚
Celeste
did AI write this? nope, this lady did ⤴ always
(a photo from a mid-week adventure I took this week while playing hooky from work and celebrating my mom’s birthday with a hike in White Mountain National Forest)