May I be the clay!

Today one of my neighbours posted a wonderful poem by Harindranath Chattopadhyay on a Whats App group. The poem kept me thinking the whole day. Here goes the first few lines-

In days gone by I used to be
A potter who would feel
His fingers mould the yielding clay
To patterns on his wheel;
But now, through wisdom lately won,
That pride has gone away,
I have ceased to be the potter
And have learned to be the clay.

I wish we could get rid of this Ätlas syndrome which envelops us, as we stress ourselves every day. Stress ourselves to do everything, assuming if we did not, the world will fall apart! We are riding a wave of I, Me, Myself. We tend to take ourselves a little too seriously. We are arrogant in those incidents we term success and beat ourselves for those incidents we term failure. Little do we realise that success and failure are probably the same incident which turned in our favour or did not.
I wish we could stop being the potter and learn to be the clay. The clay which moulds according the potter’s imagination. The clay which surrenders itself to the movements of the potter’s fingers. The clay which is soft and humble. The clay which cheerfully turns in whichever direction the potter’s wheel turns. The clay which enjoys this journey of rotation of the potter’s wheel and the touch of his fingers. The clay which believes that the potter intends to turn it into something useful, something beautiful, something miraculous!