Flat out happy
A guide to
clay THerapy*
*This guide shares what research says about clay and wellbeing, and what we’ve experienced ourselves. It isn’t medical advice and doesn’t replace professional support. If you’re struggling, please reach out to a doctor or therapist.
Prologue
HOW CLAY HELPED ME HEAL
A Not So Brief Love
Letter to Clay
Content warning:
This letter touches on grief, anxiety, and panic attacks. If that’s not something you want to think about right now, save it for another time.
I didn’t know I needed you.
Honestly, I didn’t even know you that well.
But let’s start at the beginning.
There’s a point in grief where fear moves in. Not sadness. Her, I expected. But fear is sneakier. Bolder. Like the bad fairy tale stepmother, she makes a grand entrance, sets down her bags, and starts rearranging your furniture.
After a significant loss, I found myself in a dark place. A place with a fear I hadn’t known before. A fear of losing again.
I was well into my 30s when it happened. Until then, I had been spared the big dramas of life. Or so I thought (I learned more about that in therapy later). I had absolutely no tools to deal with what came next. And so some force stepped in and took over the directing.
I call it the Drama Department.
They had a full script ready for the theatre in my head: That I could not survive if something like this happened again. (And of course it would. That’s just how life works.) That every single day could be the day I lost everything I loved. Everyone I loved. There were panic attacks. Days where I simply could not get out of bed.
The Drama Department had taken over.
They’re a full production company living rent-free in my head, complete with special effects, a soundtrack, and an extremely committed cast.
They don’t do small stories. Only catastrophes. Worst-case scenarios, delivered with the theatrical urgency of a season finale. Every day, a new performance. Every performance, completely convincing.
And for a long time, I didn’t know how to walk out of the theatre.
You’re not alone
If you’re going through something difficult and you’re drawn to working with clay: you don’t need to be an artist. You just need to start.
If you’re going through something really dark right now, please know that help exists, and you deserve to reach it.
Find a crisis line in your country at findahelpline.com.
Then there was you.
Look, I love my people. And they were all there for me. But in the depths of anxiety, conversations about how I was feeling sometimes amplified the noise. I was still in my head. I was still narrating the fear.
It’s the opposite with you. When I work with you, I am forced to focus fully on the task at hand: rolling, shaping, building. It happens almost by itself. You pull me in so completely that there is simply no room left for the Drama Department.
You can’t be abstract. You are very much here, very much now, and you need my full attention. Presence is not optional with you. It’s you and me, right there in the moment. For my anxious brain, that’s a big gift.
One of the things anxiety does is collapse time. Everything feels urgent and catastrophic and ‘right now’. But you have a completely different relationship with time, and you’ve taught me to have one, too. An hour with you feels different from an hour anywhere else. Quieter. Less heavy.
What I know now.
I still have the occasional bad night. The dark, 3am kind, where the Drama Department decides to do an unannounced late-night performance and old fear comes back. Uninvited, she sits on my bed. I don’t think those moments will ever go away entirely. What changed is my relationship with them, and how quickly I can find my way back.
Therapy gave me the language to understand what was happening in my head. You gave me something else: a place to put it down. Not forever. Not magically. But for long enough to remember that I am also a person. A person who likes to make things.
And a person who is entitled to have a good time.
So thank you, Clay.
For taking my hand.
For never judging.
For always giving me another try.
XO Femke
That was my story.
Now let’s talk about yours!
Hey! Is that you, on your phone, scrolling through some stuff? But stop — this time you’re doing things differently.
You've got your hands covered in mud. Is that clay dust on your jeans? And yes, the phone's buzzing like crazy somewhere across the room, but this time, it's someone else's problem.
Because you've been rolling slabs for… wait, how long? Three hours? Your shoulders dropped somewhere around minute 12. That tight feeling in your chest? Gone. And your brain, usually spinning like a hamster on espresso, is doing this weird thing where it’s just... quiet. Not empty quiet. Clear quiet.
Wait, what happened?
This is what flat out happy feels like. And we’re here to tell you it's been waiting for you to discover it the whole time.
Let's go.
What's actually happening in your brain and your body
Here’s the thing about cortisol, your body’s stress hormone and the chemical behind that 3am ceiling-staring anxiety spiral: it doesn’t respond well to pep talks, breathing exercises, or telling yourself to just calm down already.
We’ve been there.
Everyone tells you to just meditate. Breathe. But what if sitting still with your thoughts is literally the last thing you need right now?
What Happens When You’re Stressed Out
Cortisol is your main stress hormone, produced by your adrenal glands. When you’re constantly stressed, your body just keeps pumping it out.
Here’s how it works: your brain detects stress and triggers a chain reaction that ends with cortisol flooding your system. Your blood pressure rises, your heart speeds up, and your body puts digestion and immunity on hold. Everything goes into emergency mode.
When that emergency mode never really switches off, you feel it everywhere.
Why Handwork Hits Differently
Because when you’re measuring thickness, cutting lines and figuring out how to make corners meet without gaps, your brain is busy. Properly busy. Not anxiety-busy or scrolling-busy or worrying-about-that-email-busy.
Suddenly there’s just no room left for your overflowing inbox or whether you said the wrong thing at lunch.
You know that thing where time does something weird and you look up and it’s dark outside? That’s not magic. That’s flow state. And slab building is one of the most reliable ways to get there.
Why Clay Works Better Than Most Things You’ve Already Tried
Both hands working together, plus all that tactile feedback, keep your attention exactly where your hands are. That’s what makes clay so good at interrupting rumination loops. You have to be present, or your piece collapses.
And it shows: in one study, cortisol dropped in three out of four people after just 45 minutes of making art. And clay seems to have an edge. In a study with 106 adults living with depression, those who worked with clay improved more than those who made other kinds of art: in their mood, their general health and their overall wellbeing. Most people walk away calmer, clearer and more grounded.
Yeah. There’s science behind it.
Sources:
At any skill level, making art reduces stress hormones (ScienceDaily)
Making art reduces stress hormone cortisol (PsyPost)
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THAT’S WHAT SCIENCE SAYS
1. YOUR BRAIN SWITCHES CHANNELS
When you’re fully focused on a task, the part of your brain that wanders off and worries tends to quiet down. Your attention moves to what’s right in front of you, and your inner critic gets a lot quieter.
2. YOUR NERVOUS SYSTEM FLIPS THE SWITCH
Your body has two modes: stress and rest. Calm, repetitive handwork can help flip the switch from one to the other and tell your brain: we’re safe here.
3. CORTISOL DROPS
In one study, stress hormone levels dropped in three out of four people after just 45 minutes of making art.
4. YOUR REWARD SYSTEM WAKES UP
Making art activates your brain’s reward system, the part that makes you feel motivated and satisfied. A pretty good counterweight to stress.
5. CLAY HAS AN EDGE
In a study with adults living with depression, working with clay improved mood and wellbeing more than other kinds of art making.
Sources:
At any skill level, making art reduces stress hormones (ScienceDaily)
Making Art Activates Brain’s Reward Pathway (Drexel University)
The Doodler Abides (Pacific Standard)
Effects of clay art therapy on adults with depression (Journal of Affective Disorders)
Smooth Operations:
Enter the Flow State
So, flow state is the goal. But how do you actually get there?
Let the movements take over. Roll, measure, cut. Score, slip, join. After a while, they become almost automatic. But your brain stays engaged, because every piece is slightly different and every detail needs attention.
You pay attention. Automatically.
The key is finding the right level of difficulty: not so easy you’re bored, not so hard you’re frustrated. Just right. (We’ve figured that part out for you.)
This isn’t distraction. It’s not avoidance. It’s your brain finally getting to do what it’s actually made for: solving problems, making things, being in the physical world.
The Rhythm Is Where the Magic Hides
Rolling slabs to an even thickness is repetitive. Back and forth, feeling for resistance, checking the edges, rolling again. It should be boring.
Somehow, it isn’t.
You find the pattern. Your shoulders drop. Your breathing deepens without you noticing.
This is what your body’s been trying to tell you: slow down, make something, remember what it feels like to just be for a while.
Ever tried meditation? It’s a wonderful tool, for some people, and it does something similar for your brain and body. But it can be really hard. If it’s never been your thing, slab building might just be your way in.
This Is the Real Therapy
Not the finished piece. Not the Instagram moment.
It’s the part where you learn as you go. And here’s what you’ll discover along the way: every piece will be a little different. Uneven slabs? You can fix them. Collapsing walls? You’ll figure it out. Corners that don’t meet? You’ll get there.
Clay won’t let you check out mentally. It needs you to actually show up. But it’s also forgiving. You can start over as many times as you need.
You’ll find that imperfect isn’t just acceptable. It’s inevitable. And beautiful.
Every time you rescue a wonky corner, you’re practising what therapists call psychological flexibility: adapting when things don’t go to plan. Which, you know, they constantly don’t.
Second chances, over and over again. Because it’s always about the process.
What You’re Really Making:
Something Real in a Fake World
We live in pixels. We work in tabs. We socialize in notifications. There’s nothing wrong with that. But we can’t do it all the time. Sometimes we need something real.
When working with clay, you can feel this realness. It’s tangible. You can form it any way you like and create something that didn’t exist five minutes ago.
Now it exists, because you made it.
Your eyes focus on something three-dimensional. Your hands are feeling instead of typing. You feel physically grounded.
Collaborate with reality
Clay gets you out of your head and into your body.
Cool, soft clay gives your senses something to hold on to. Therapists use exactly this kind of sensory input as a grounding technique: when your thoughts are racing, touch can bring you back to the here and now.
Clay proves you can make things happen.
Psychologists call it self-efficacy: the belief that you can actually get things done. And nothing builds it like finishing something you made yourself. Not a ticked-off to-do list. A real object you can hold, use and point at. (Yes, the wonky one counts!)
Doing comes before feeling better.
When you’re stuck, waiting until you feel like it rarely works. One of the most effective approaches for low mood is called behavioural activation, which is a fancy way of saying: do small, meaningful things, and the feeling follows. Rolling a slab is a very small, very meaningful thing.
What are you waiting for?
You show up. There’s clay. There’s literally nothing that can go wrong. Build something. You’ll figure out the rest. Let time do that weird thing, and find out what flat out happy feels like.
What’s the worst that could happen?
Worst case: a slightly wonky soap dish. Best case: you just found your way back to yourself.
Jackpot.
Go get messy.
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Start Today:
Three Easy Steps
Step 1: Start Simple
Wedge the clay. Just wedge, 20 times, 50 times. Feel that? Then roll out a small slab, grab a cookie cutter from the kitchen, press it into the slab and poke a hole with a straw.
There it is. Your first ceramic ornament.
Step 2: Keep Going
Pick something simple: a tray, a cup, a little trinket dish. Something that keeps your hands busy and your mind present. Wonky result? That’s your first flow state, captured in clay. Be proud. Then notice it’s been three hours and you’re not exhausted. You’re engaged.
Step 3: Stay Satisfied
It was never really about the tray. It’s about the minutes when you were flat out happy and didn’t even realize it until afterwards. Keep going. There are no mistakes here.
The Science
Behind the Slip
All those claims about cortisol, flow and brain activation? They’re not just feel-good talk. Here’s where the research lives:
Stress Reduction & Cortisol
Kaimal, G., Ray, K., & Muniz, J. (2016). Reduction of Cortisol Levels and Participants’ Responses Following Art Making. Art Therapy, 33(2), 74–80.
https://doi.org/10.1080/07421656.2016.1166832
Clay & Mood
Nan, J. K. M., & Ho, R. T. H. (2017). Effects of clay art therapy on adults outpatients with major depressive disorder: A randomized controlled trial. Journal of Affective Disorders, 217, 237–245.
https://doi.org/10.1016/j.jad.2017.04.013
Brain Activation & Art Making
Kaimal, G., et al. (2017). Functional near-infrared spectroscopy assessment of reward perception based on visual self-expression: Coloring, doodling, and free drawing. The Arts in Psychotherapy, 55, 85–92.
https://doi.org/10.1016/j.aip.2017.05.004
Flow State & Creative Work
Csikszentmihalyi, M. (1990). Flow: The Psychology of Optimal Experience. Harper & Row.
Self-Efficacy
Bandura, A. (1977). Self-efficacy: Toward a unifying theory of behavioral change. Psychological Review, 84(2), 191–215.
https://doi.org/10.1037/0033-295X.84.2.191
Behavioural Activation
Ekers, D., et al. (2014). Behavioural activation for depression; an update of meta-analysis of effectiveness and sub group analysis. PLoS ONE, 9(6), e100100.
https://doi.org/10.1371/journal.pone.0100100
Additional Reading
American Art Therapy Association: https://arttherapy.org
Sources:
Effects of clay art therapy (HKBU Scholars)
Behavioural activation for depression (PubMed)
Doodling study (Editage)