We become our words. We become the thing that shapes our words. What kind of words leave your lips? What kind of thoughts leave you? Is it poison or salve? Do you get hurt more and more as you speak? Harsh words cut our own lips as we speak them. If you were to cut me down you would only cut yourself down. If you were to build me up you would build yourself up. If you were to build yourself up you would build me up. Yes we must say what is in our hearts, but we are the hands that shape the pot already spinning along the wheel. We find ourselves in the middle of this act of creation. We find ourselves covered in clay, hands slick and sticky as if covered in blood, and the clay slips beneath our fingers as it spins in a circle. What kind of heart, what kind of pot are you building? What kind of thing are you becoming?
Are you happy with your pot? It is a shame that one cannot stop the wheel. But you can know the parts of your pot that you are happy with and you can refine them, encourage them. So my dears, let me say that I love your pots. Let me say that I am lucky to behold them. Let me say that I am grateful for the time that I have been blessed with. Let me say that I am grateful to have my pot. Let me say that I think both of our pots look beautiful together. Bless you. Thank you.
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