From LEADERSHIP FIRST We spend so much energy rehearsing disasters that haven’t happened yet. We map out every “what if” for failure, building intricate blueprints for our own disappointment. We call it preparation, but often, it’s just a cage. What if we redirected that same mental intensity? “If you can overthink the worst, why can’t you overthink the best?” Imagine obsessing over your…

Taking a non-traditional approach often segways into a series of seemingly perilous pivots. Trusting the process is harder than it appears. 

Bending, crafting, creating pottery—especially as a beginner—often feels like one big experiment. Online tutorials teach different hand techniques and each potter prefers their own approach. I’d been struggling the past few sessions to center, one of the biggest obstacles to getting started on the wheel. 

I either choked the cone too much and circumcised it or the lump flew off the platform. To drill a hole in the center didn’t feel like love-making either. The walls of the pot quivered and wiggled, protesting against my hands. Each wheel session ended with another failed glob in the bucket.

Sara would describe her movements to me on the wheel, but despite the coaching, a lot of the learning process was intuitive.

Pivot, pivot, pivot. If something didn’t work, how else would it? Would it work better if I angled my hand this way, position my fingers that way, or hunch over a new way? I’m not sure how it happened, but one day, it just clicked. My hands felt more confident and a flow ebbed onto the piece. 

The pure joy at creating a pot, something that looked halfway decent, started a chain reaction of more and more minutes behind the wheel. This time, I felt like I could actually drive.

When you reach any road block, it feels maddening to push past it until failure forces you to pivot. The pivot is frustrating, tiresome, and difficult. It would be so much easier if the first time just worked. But to pivot again, again, and again shows the power of perspective. 

entremanure