“Gently… gently,” the potter murmurs, as if speaking to the clay itself. My fingers follow his lead — a press here, a soft release there. The wheel spins, the clay rises, and slowly, a tiny pot takes shape. With a loop of string, I cut it free and hold it up, smiling with the quiet wonder of having made something from nothing. Not perfect, not polished — but unmistakably mine.
Creation is like that. You begin with something raw, unformed. You work on it, and with time, it becomes something meaningful.
Creation is in sowing seeds and watching them push through the soil.
In nurturing children as they grow into themselves.
In turning a handful of ingredients into a meal that warms the table.
In arranging a room until it feels like home.
In filling a blank page with words.
In knitting a scarf or painting a canvas.
In growing an idea into a thriving venture.
In building relationships.
In shaping our own dreams into reality.
In each act, something shifts from nothing yet to something now. And no matter how often it happens, it never stops being wondrous.
We humans are, at our core, makers — not just of things, but of possibilities. This is our greatest shared heritage: a restless, hopeful urge to create, improve, and leave behind more than we found.
And we have carried this impulse across millennia. From shaping clay pots to building cities. From planting seeds in the soil to sending seeds into space. From stringing beads into necklaces to stringing satellites across the sky. From inventing the wheel to developing code that will power superintelligence.
And the wonder isn’t in the pot, the meal, or the invention — it’s in us.
Being Meeta 