The Gentle Art of Pottering
I for one need more days of pottering. I try to give myself one every week. I’m sure I’m not alone in finding myself navigating this in life, how we can spin faster into cycles of business and pressure, always feeling we are playing catch up, and then coming back again to the present. To potter is the great balm for this, a great balm for our age. If a person has this power at their disposal, this unassuming silent strength they have one of the greatest gifts. For we should not underestimate the power of this simple way of being.
to potter: to move around without hurrying, and in a relaxed and pleasant way.
Just reading the definition makes me feel a slowing down inside, an invitation to breath and observe more closely the world around me, with softer eyes and no pressing agenda to get anything in particular done. We are at our most natural, most present, most simple, when we pass an hour or a day simply pottering about, a smile on our face, the whole wide world a wonderful curiosity, but one that doesn’t press upon our immediate environment, our immediate focus to that which is within hands reach.
Pottering describes engaging in gentle, unhurried activities. My particular favourite is gardening, a pleasant, low-intensity, kind of gardening, at an unhurried pace. To step into my little vegetable garden on a sunny morning, and move about with leisurely exploration, with no particular goal in mind is as calming a thing as I know. And there is one gift of plants - we can’t hurry them.
Though pottering might seem simple on the surface it has inspired a rich body of reflection and exploration from thinkers and writers.
In "The Unlikely Pilgrimage of Harold Fry" by Rachel Joyce, the protagonist embarks on a spontaneous journey of self-discovery after deciding to walk across England to visit an old friend. Along the way, he engages in simple acts of pottering, which ultimately lead to profound insights and personal transformation.
Psychologist Ellen J. Langer, known for her work on mindfulness and the psychology of possibility, has written about the concept of "mindful attention" and how it can be applied to everyday activities, including pottering. She suggests that by approaching tasks with an open and curious mindset, we can cultivate a greater sense of presence and engagement in our lives.
I recently finished Frederic Gros’ book A Philosophy of Walking - walking being another wonderful avenue of pottering. In it he writes
By walking, you escape from the very idea of identity, the temptation to be someone, to have a name and a history ... The freedom in walking lies in not being anyone; for the walking body has no history, it is just an eddy in the stream of immemorial life.
Ireland in particular has a rich tapestry of country laneways that we can wonder about and simply observe and be surprised by the small things we discover there.
As I write this, on a bright May morning, a cool breeze is coming in through my window, a slight scent of the ocean within it. The birds are singing outside and the sun is warming up the garden beds.
So I’ll leave you here, and turn off my phone, and head out for a little pottering, to where ever it may lead.