After moving to East Hartford in the late '70s, my friends and I stumbled upon a pottery studio. Being a very part-time dabbler in clay and always interested in any kind of craft, we stopped into the shop. Not only was the work awesome, but the studio offered lessons. I vowed that one day I'd take lessons there and set up my own studio sometime. I had taken some ceramics classes and any time I did, I just wanted to do more of it.

I moved to South Windsor shortly thereafter, but I never forgot about the potter. Indeed, I'd pass the studio at least twice a year on the way to my dentist. I refrained from signing up for lessons, though. Not enough time. Not enough money. No space to set up my own studio once I was addicted to working in clay. Lots of negatives. Always reasons not to try.

Eventually, I even stopped going to that dentist in East Hartford. But the universe works in mysterious ways. My potter moved his studio to South Windsor. I knew because I'd pass it to and from client meetings once or twice a month.

A couple years ago, my husband broke his favorite coffee mug. I gathered up my fears, marshaled them into the trunk of my car and stopped in the studio on my way back from an appointment. The studio was even cooler than the first time I'd visited way back when. I lingered over the pottery, talked to the artist and eventually selected a mug, which my husband loves. Emboldened, a year later, I went back and bought a couple plates.

Now, it's always been my intention to replace all my dishes with hand made ones, by other artists as well as myself. I've been looking at designs, admiring techniques, and generally researching how I'd come to do this project for years. Time, money and the lack of a studio have always held this rampant desire in check.

Until last week. Passing the studio one more time, with no particular purpose in mind -- that is, no broken dishes to replace -- I walked in and asked to see the owner. We talked about lessons. There was a new session starting next week. I got out my checkbook. I'm embarking on something big. There's no way I'm going to acquire the skills or complete my project in this one 8 week class. But I've taken the first step. I'm in it for the distance. In the foreseeable future, I'm going to have some new dishes. And, just maybe, a bit of a studio in the back yard.

This wasn't an easy decision for me. I can easily enumerate a multitude of reasons why I should continue to hold off. But it is also a huge victory. Which is why I'm announcing it to the world. Which is why the first person I told was my awesome pal and mentor, Jill Butler, whose BeBOLD! workshops are a great fast track to helping you understand your real priorities and how to address them. Fast track? When it took over 35 years to finally commit? Well, yes. I joined Jill's workshop only a year an a half ago. Sometimes it still takes time to get one's BOLD on.