I hadn’t planned on finding mindfulness in an art café surrounded by unglazed ceramics, bottles of paints and brushes – but that’s exactly what happened.
We’d set aside time for a family day together but, as so often happens, we hadn’t made any solid plans. I don’t know about you but I love waking up with a blank slate – not knowing where the day will take us, what new experiences we’ll stumble into, or what little adventures await.
Painting pottery was something I’d done before and enjoyed, so I booked us into a nearby art café. It was a new spot for us, so instead of driving into town, we decided to walk from home.
We gathered the troops and headed out. With various stresses weighing on different family members, the walk became a welcome buffer – time to catch up, share stories and take in the things you usually miss as you drive past like admiring the colourful plants blooming in local gardens.
We arrived at the café, were shown to our table and the staff explained the process. Choose a ceramic item. Choose your design. Choose your colours. Choose your brush.
For some of us, this was all new—absorbing fresh instructions isn’t easy when your mind’s a little crowded. Some of us were naturally “arty,” already dreaming up colour palettes and display spots for the finished masterpiece. Others hesitated, unsure where to begin—nervous about messing up. Eventually, everyone made their choices and got started.
It made me reflect on how easily we talk ourselves out of creativity. So many people grow up thinking they’re “not artistic,” and that belief keeps them from trying new things. We become so fixated on getting things “right” that we miss the joy of simply playing—with colour, with shape, with possibility.
When did we stop giving ourselves permission to try? As children, we dive into the unknown without hesitation. Somewhere along the way, many of us lose that fearless curiosity
But on this day, something lovely happened. One by one, even the hesitant among us dipped a brush into paint and let go. Stroke by stroke, doubts softened. Confidence grew. And then—quiet.
We painted in near silence, totally absorbed in the moment. Each brushstroke became a little moment of focus. Each colour choice, an act of quiet intention. No pressure to be perfect. No rush to finish. Just the calm joy of creating something, for its own sake.
For a while, stresses and anxieties were forgotten. Relaxation ensued. All that we needed to do in that moment was to move the brush. It felt almost magical to realise that my usually talkative, often stressed family were collectively sharing a beautiful mindful moment together.
I discovered that painting pottery invites you to slow down, be present, and lose yourself in something simple and soothing. It’s a way to reconnect with creativity, with loved ones, and with your own inner stillness. And maybe, just maybe, to rediscover that playful side you thought you’d outgrown.
Have you ever painted pottery and found a moment of calm? I’d love to hear your story in the comments – do share if you’ve had a mindful moment you didn’t expect.
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