Hey this is Nuthan,  let me tell of you about my journey while facilitating The Happiness Tour

Clay. At first glance, it’s just dirt—earth that sticks to your hands, leaves smudges on your clothes, and crumbles under pressure. But, with patience, perseverance, and guidance, this simple material can transform into something stunning. And in the process, it has a habit of transforming you, too.

That’s the lesson I revisited in my The Happiness Tour, during a clay sculpting workshop that was so much more than just an art class. It was a journey of self-discovery.

The Beauty of Slowing Down

As we settled into the studio, the artist leading the session greeted us with a warm smile and an aura of calm. She wasn’t just skilled with clay; she seemed to hold a quiet understanding of its power to connect people with themselves. Her guidance wasn’t about perfecting technique but about helping us trust the process.

“This isn’t about making something perfect,” she said. “It’s about letting the clay teach you.”

I took a lump of clay in my hands, cool and slightly damp, and felt an unexpected wave of nervousness. What would I create? Would it look good? But as we started with slow, deliberate breathing, I could feel the tension in my shoulders begin to dissolve.

Focusing on how the clay felt against my fingers—soft, pliable, grounding—was the beginning of a mindfulness practice like none I’d ever experienced. I’ve meditated before, but stillness isn’t easy for me. Working with the clay, however, brought me into the present moment effortlessly. The slow, circular motions of shaping it mirrored the rhythm of my breathing, and before I knew it, I was utterly immersed.

A Snail, a Goose, and a Bowl

In that quiet, sensory world of clay, I decided to sculpt a snail. Not exactly an ambitious choice, but it felt right. Snails are symbols of patience, resilience, and the beauty of going at your own pace—something I’ve often struggled to do.

Around me, my fellow participants crafted their own stories. Someone sculpted a whimsical goose, its long neck curving playfully. Another made an asymmetrical bowl, quirky and uniquely beautiful. It struck me how much these creations revealed about each person. The bowl-maker admitted, with a laugh, that it symbolized her acceptance of imperfection, both in pottery and life. HAPPY NOT PERFECT.

“This snail,” I thought to myself as I smoothed its spiral shell, “will remind me to slow down, to persevere, and to find grace in every step.”

An Anchor for Transformation

At the end of the session, I guided the  group to a self hypnosis practice that would make our clay creations even more meaningful. Through a gentle self-hypnosis exercise, we turned our pieces into anchors—a kind of mental touchstone for inner strength and transformation.

With my snail in my hands, I closed my eyes as my voice led us (including me) into a relaxed, meditative state. “Each time you hold or touch your sculputure, it reminds you and connects you to  the calm and strength you feel right now. As you breathe out and feel your sculpture, you feel more and more relaxed and a wave of strength washes over you…”

It was a powerful moment. The snail I had shaped with my hands was no longer just a sculpture; it became a symbol of something deeper—my own ability to slow down, breathe, and create beauty in the chaos.

Apple Pie, Treasure Hunts, and Shared Stories

The day wasn’t just about clay. After washing up, we indulged in some of the best apple pie and coffee I’ve ever tasted at Brownies & Downies, a café known not only for its delicious food but also for its commitment to inclusivity and community.

Fueled by pie and good conversation, we embarked on a treasure hunt across Woerden. Our mission? To find installations of paintings by Leo Gestel, the town’s beloved artist. Each piece seemed to echo the themes of the day—transformation, resilience, and finding beauty in the unexpected.

As the sun began to set, we gathered at a quiet café for one last cup of coffee. There, we shared stories of transformation. One participant talked about how the day had given her clarity about a tough decision at work. Another said the workshop had reminded her to embrace her creative side, something she’d neglected for years.

For me, it was about learning to slow down and let life unfold, just as the snail I had sculpted reminded me to do.

The Power of Hands and Heart

The clay sculpting workshop was more than just an activity—it was a form of sensory-based mindfulness, a reminder that slowing down and connecting with our hands can quiet the noise in our heads. It was meditation without the struggle to sit still, a path to self-discovery that felt as grounding as the earth itself.

And as I look at the little snail now sitting on my desk, I feel its quiet power. It’s not just a reminder of that beautiful day in Woerden; it’s an anchor that brings me back to the strength, patience, and joy I carry within myself.

So the next time you find yourself overwhelmed, consider this: sometimes, transformation begins with just a lump of clay and the courage to shape it.