Episode 9: Small Cups

11/19/21
Growing Creative Podcast
S1E9: Small Cups

In this episode, Jane talks about  how freeing it is to accept our limitations & stay close to the sources that fill us up. You can check out the accompanying collection at janeboutwellstudio.com/shop

Jane Boutwell is an artist & creative coach based in Atlanta, Georgia. She loves to nurture and empower others to pursue their creative callings.

"I am an artist with an inquisitive mind, a heart connected to nature and a soul yearning towards God…a child of dirt and dance…a beauty bringing blessing writer… a poetic painter and potter.

Starting with mud pies as a child in the backyard, my creativity includes tactile, intuitive, and deeply-in-touch-with-nature ways of being in the world. I see myself as an apprentice in God’s art studio of the natural world that is full of metaphor, imprinted with the character of the Maker.

It is my passion to share the shimmering beauty and deep truths I find in the creative medium that seems most fitting. Those creative expressions include gardening, quilting, writing, painting, sketching, ceramics, dancing, creative coaching, podcasting, and family life with my husband and four children in Tucker/Atlanta, Georgia."

Join the email list to learn more about special offerings : https://www.janeboutwellstudio.com/contact
Free Sketchbooking resource here: https://view.flodesk.com/pages/5f7b3597322e6ae12d5c774e

Follow @janeboutwellstudio on IG for more.

Transcript

Today's episode is another place where I am going to read you something that I've written ahead of time. I've been slowly collecting the stories behind artwork that I've made. And this is the story of the small cup. I've made a couple of collections of small cups, and they've really, really connected with your hearts. I think that, especially at this point,

after a pandemic or in the midst of one, we can all identify with the feeling of being limited. So I hope that hearing my experience and the story of how these pieces came to be, and my thoughts around these pieces encourages you to lean in to this high Trinity of being limited and feeling small and getting empty over and over. I hope that encourages you to see it differently.

I am waiting for the kiln to cool down and I'll be unloading the second collection of small cups. And I'm so excited to be able to send more of these out into the world so that you all can be invited into this ritual of holding a small cup in your hand next to your faucet, or a pitcher and physically experienced the reminder that it can bring you're listening to the growing creative podcast.

And I'm your host Jane Boutwell, I'm an artist and a creative coach. This is a space that will nurture your heart and empower you to pursue your creative calling, whatever that may be. I find my days so full that they pass and a blur at times I look back and I'm not sure what happened to the hours. What happened the day before with four children?

There are many demands on my time. Although as my grandfather in law was known to say, one child takes all your time for can't take any more than that. My heart is pulled in many directions. I'm standing in the midst of a sea of laundry, a constantly rotating task list of dishes, carpool driving meal, making chores that must be done to keep the machinery of our family,

running, all the things that need to be done by me. And then my eyes look above these daily tasks and glance out over the horizon. I see personal dreams of big things. I'd love to do with my, with my life ideas that are dying to take shape along to be a deep part of the lives of my friends, giving the time that's needed to sit with them when they need a companion.

It's so easy to become completely overwhelmed at the immensity of things to be done people to please. I wish I had an ocean of energy and strength, stamina, and wisdom to pour out all that's needed for those. I love my family, my community, my city, and into the dreams of my own heart. And yet I don't ever have enough to give my heart sinks with grief and overwhelm.

As I know my limited capacity for all that my heart longs to do and be a part of and all the responsibilities I need to attend to. I think of what a deep, well, I need to be able to draw from, to do these things. And yet, as I stand at my bathroom sink holding a very small cup, my heart resonates with a deep knowing that I am the small cup.

I can only hold so much at one time. Sometimes I charge forth to conquer the day and I'm convinced that I can do far more than I'm capable of. I imagine I'm like one of those biggie size cups that can barely fit in your hand. It's so huge. It's almost like a baby pool. I could fill up once and keep going and going and going,

pouring out into all the places that need my energy, my attention, my work, but that's not what I am. And I can't change that. As I stand at my bathroom sink holding this small cup, it does not quench my thirst. I have to refill it. I turn the faucet on and refill it. I drink some more, again,

it's empty. And again, I turn the faucet on to fill it up and drink more. The cup is a dear small size. I love the way it fits into the curve of my hand. It was a pottery throwing experiment that I pressed a bird stamp that I'd carved into later. I glazed it was shades of blue that reminded me of the sky and echoed with freedom.

And yet it has small with a certain humility about it. This cup really needs to stay right next to the faucet in order to serve its purpose, it must be filled up over and over again. I realized when I'm willing to embody my identity as a small cup, I'm recognizing the need to stay close to the true source. I realized that my pace must shift.

I must take frequent small breaks to have my cup refilled. It's okay that I can't go long stretches without pause, because staying in touch the source of what fills me up is not a bad place to be being connected to the maker of all the stars. Bubbles laughter dragon fly wings and hearts full of love is an invitation worth accepting. 10 minutes spent sitting just soaking up the tree limbs above me,

watching the clouds, move, feeling the grass underfoot, even just five minutes of pause can quiet and calm the inner turmoil and turn my thoughts to the thumb prints of the creator that are visible in the world around us and written on the pages of the book, the Bible. These are places that fill me back up so that I can pour out again.

The closer I am to the source, the more frequently in touch with it, the more flavor of that truest refreshing spirit will linger in what I can pour out for others. I've felt the ache of grief over my incapacity, my inability to do all that. I dream all that I can envision. All that I feel is so needed. I've tried to get more strategic in my planning.

If only I could get things listed out in just the right way, surely like a rubrics cube. I can fit things together and find a way to do it all. But no, it's just simply not possible. And the fight against my limited capacity brings me to halt again and again. I pushed myself too far and I ended up with a worn down body,

getting sick with some recurrent shingles, another case of strep throat, whatever the virus does your is that has been waiting to hit me as soon as I get run down yet. Again, I don't have the answers. I don't have it worked out perfectly, but the lesson I'm learning from the small cup is that I'm going to need to lean in to how I was made as a limited being with edges and defined limits.

I can allow that to lead my heart toward the limitless source I can connect to and also accept the purpose behind that. It's never about accomplishing at all. It's about experiencing each moment with a heart full of love, eyes open to see what is lovely. And each person I encounter the world that I live in. Compassionate love toward myself in my own state of limitation,

making a habit of frequently refilling my small cup with visits to the source. There's a quote by John Berger. And he says quote, when I say the first line of the Lord's prayer, our father who art in heaven, I imagine this heaven as invisible unanswerable, but intimately close. There's nothing Baroque about it. No swirling, infinite space or stunning foreshortening to find it.

If one had the grace, it would only be necessary to lift up something as small and at hand as a puddle or salt cellar on the table. Thy kingdom come. The difference is infinite between heaven and earth yet the distance as minimal and quote. Let me just read that last part one more time. Quote, thy kingdom come. The difference is infinite between heaven and earth yet the distance is minimal.

Unquote, may we let our limitations invite us to feel how minimal is the distance between earth and heaven may small moments in our every day like drinking from a small cup connect, deep truths into our lived experience. And in closing, I want to share with you the blessing of the small cup. I cannot pour out what I do not have. May I lean into the reality that I can only hold so much without being refilled.

I am a small cup. May I make space for rest and refilling so that I can be filled with the wonder that made the heavens may my heart softened at the invitation small cup, stay close to the source. Thank you for spending your time with me today. Listening to the podcast. If you heard something that touched your heart, I, it will share it with a friend the best way to stay in touch and find out about what's happening with the podcast or with my studio and the art that I make.

You can subscribe to my email newsletter through Jane Boutwell studio.com. I also offer a free sketchbook resource that I love to share with people when they sign up for that, which is also on my website. I would love to hear from you and hear what you are learning from a podcast. What's piqued your curiosity. What you'd like to hear more of reach out to me on Instagram and my DMS or through the email or through review.

But I would love to hear back from you and make it more like a conversation. The show notes are available to help you find a transcript or a link to anything that was mentioned in the podcast today. I always love to help you find ways to dive deeper and learn more. I'd like to thank shepherd Martin for sound editing and the music in the podcast is provided by sad Moses,

once again, thanks for joining me. I look forward to next time and keep growing creative.