Finding Your Center: Building Emotional Resilience and Stability
Finding Center
Rediscovering the simple joy of creation: hands, earth, and the art of play.
Discover how centering—like working clay on the wheel—teaches us to build resilience, find emotional balance, and heal from shame.
Shame can throw us off balance, leaving us feeling stuck, disconnected, and unsure of ourselves. In this blog, we’ll explore how centering, just like working clay on the pottery wheel, can help us regain emotional stability, build resilience, and heal from the wounds that shame and other emotional struggles leave behind.
Originally published: February 26, 2024 | Revised: July 2025
Connecting with Nature: The Therapeutic Touch of Earth
Picture this: the soft texture of clay, the grounding scent of earth, and the profound connection with nature. As we navigate the tactile joy of pottery, we also engage in a silent conversation about our inner landscapes, confronting emotions that shape us, much like the clay under our fingertips. As I often say, "There's just something about having your hands in the clay and making beautiful things." Pottery is more than art. It’s healing. It’s grounding. And it all begins with our hands.
Touch is the first form of communication we learn. In my book, A Better Way: Integrating Faith and Psychology to Heal Inner Wounds, I reference the oft-told story of Emperor Frederick II, who allegedly ordered infants to be raised in silence to discover humanity’s “original language.” According to legend, the babies all died—not from lack of food, but from a fatal absence of human touch. Whether fact or fable, the story echoes what modern science confirms: we are wired for connection. Touch isn’t just comfort. It’s survival. When we place our hands in the clay, we’re not only creating—we’re reconnecting to something foundational. Something human. Something sacred. That simple act of grounding opens the doorway to healing.
Holding It Together: How Centering Clay Mirrors Our Emotional Journey
Now, let's talk about centering on the wheel. It's not just a step; it's the foundation of every creation. Imagine a mound of clay, spinning with potential. Centering is the process of pressing and guiding it into balance before the shaping begins. This tricky step sets the stage for everything that follows, laying the groundwork for a therapeutic dialogue with nature and with ourselves.
As one website humorously puts it, "Centering tends to produce a lot of silent and audible screaming." It’s true. Centering is frustrating but essential. Amelia, the owner of Tap Tap Art Studios in Harker Heights, Texas, lovingly encourages her students, “Apply that pressure from the outside, keep it centered.” She describes it as a “centrical force happening, which is life too.” Her reminder is powerful: in life, we are constantly “having to hold it together.”
Often, life pushes us off center. Shame whispers that we’re unworthy, too broken, or too far gone. Yet each time we return to the wheel—with firmer hands and deeper breath—we have the chance to re-center. That’s resilience. The ability to pause, breathe, and return to what’s true. For many of us, faith is that quiet force underneath, holding us steady.
Stillness in the Soil: Finding Relief from Shame Through Mindful Creativity
Have you ever felt the therapeutic joy of getting your hands in the soil while gardening? Throwing clay on the wheel captures that same grounding essence. The meditative quality doesn’t just come from the rhythmic spin, it comes from the stillness required to center both the clay and ourselves. The wheel doesn’t care about your hard day; the wheel demands your attention. If you are not focused and present, you will end up with a blob of clay! Amelia puts it beautifully: working with clay is “one of the few things that really is mind, body, soul because it’s coming from your physical fingertips.” She reflects that when she’s off-center emotionally, it shows in her art: “Any bit of anxiety, anger, frustration, I do flops all day long. I mean, these aren’t the organic little beauties that come out.”
Fellow student, Trena Black Wade, adds a personal note to the conversation, "I walked in class feeling frustrated and my mind whirring, I just needed to put my hands in the clay and when I walked out, I left it all on the wheel and I felt lighter and centered." That’s the gift of pottery. It doesn’t just offer a creative outlet. It becomes a form of emotional and psychological release. A quiet space where shame softens, where the noise of life is replaced by stillness and shape. Amelia, also reminds us that the grounding starts even before the wheel: “Any time i'm trying to get creative or balance myself i go outside and walk barefoot. You know the more I do it and think about it, it makes sense when you're talking about your hands in the clay. I mean it is dirt. So I do think it is grounding you.” Pottery brings us back to ourselves. Mind, body, and soul in motion, rooted in something ancient and healing. In the stillness of the soil, we find space to breathe, release, and remember that we are more than the shame we’ve carried.
Reshaping Your Story: Finding Self-Compassion Through Clay
In the dance of hands and clay, there lies a profound lesson in patience and self-compassion. Centering the clay, a process both delicate and determined, mirrors our own journey toward inner balance and healing. For many, shame is an unwieldy burden, much like an uncentered piece of clay. It throws us off balance and causes our lives to wobble in unpredictable ways.
Just as we learn to center clay with gentle, persistent adjustments, we too can learn to navigate the feelings of shame that distort our sense of self. Drawing upon the insights shared in my series on shame and healing (Shame Defined, Shame and Trauma, The Shame Cycle, and Overcoming Shame), this moment at the pottery wheel becomes more than technique. It becomes a metaphor for how we can begin to reshape how we see ourselves. Each attempt at centering, no matter how many tries it takes, teaches us resilience. With every wobble, we learn how to turn imperfection into possibility. Through this tactile dialogue with the earth, we find a way to ground ourselves, release the weight of shame, and reconnect with a more centered sense of identity.
As we shape the clay, we begin to reshape our story—one marked by healing, grace, and the quiet courage to keep showing up.
Grounded Faith and Closing Reflections: Centered in the Studio, Rooted in Spirit
Faith has always been my anchor. Not because it removes the struggle, but because it reminds me I’m not alone in it. Like the wheel supporting the clay, my faith holds me steady through life’s pressure and shaping. It's the quiet voice that says I am seen, known, and deeply loved—even when I feel off-center.
As we conclude this chapter in the journey of healing through pottery, remember that centering isn't just for the wheel. It's for our hearts, our minds, and our stories. This practice teaches us how to slow down, breathe, and gently reshape what once felt too broken to hold. Whether in the studio or in life, each small act of returning to center becomes a sacred invitation to begin again.
Want to explore more about how creativity supports emotional healing? Visit my first pottery blog, Pathway to Healing: Embracing Creativity to Overcome Emotional Wounds, where I share how art, faith, and psychology come together to help us rewrite the stories we tell ourselves.
Invitation to Practice
As you continue your journey, consider these simple, grounding practices:
Engage with the earth—through pottery, gardening, or walking barefoot.
Journal about what surfaces when you slow down.
Lean into faith, prayer, or stillness for grounding.
Notice how each small breath, pause, or moment of awareness brings you closer to center.
You are not too far gone.
You are not too broken.
You are being reshaped—into something stronger, steadier, and deeply loved.
Stay Informed and Inspired.
If you're drawn to the intersection of creativity, faith, and healing, I invite you to join our community. Through our newsletter, you’ll receive reflections, resources, and stories of growth that speak to the heart. Together, we’ll explore the ways art, faith, and psychology can guide us toward healing, resilience, and renewal.
Until next time, get your hands in the dirt, nurture your inner garden, and let the healing unfold.
