Rocks Rock my World


A pile of rocks ceases to be a rock when somebody contemplates it with the idea of a cathedral in mind.” Antoine de Saint-Exupery


I love rocks!  Big rocks, little rocks, pebbles, gems and crystals.  As I was cleaning out my candle holder (it is full of rocks) I started playing with them in my hands.  They felt cold, and smooth to the touch.  I like the clanking sound they make as I let them drop back into the glass bowl.

Then I asked myself.  Where does this love for rocks come from?  Looking back, way back, I used to spend lots of time in Saint-Adolphe d’Howard and Magog.  My grandfather and aunt owned cottages in those towns, and I spent much time on their lakefront beach.

I remember gathering rocks into piles.  However, before I would choose which rock would go into my pile, I specifically remember inspecting each rock really closely. I would wonder how God made them, because, rocks are hard, and each of them very different.  I loved the see through ones, I thought they were diamonds.

“Mom mom.. Look I found a diamond!!” I would eagerly cry as I ran to show her.

When I found a pink rock magic would fill my soul.  Then some looked like they had gold in them.  Did I find a treasure?

I was attracted to rocks so much as a child that I even tried to sell them.  Yep, when I got home from the cottage one year, I took out my most treasured rocks and set out to sell them door to door.  Making money, around the age of 7 or 8, was such a pleasure.  I set out with my little bag, knock on the door, and believe I had something important I had to share with these people.  MY ROCKS!!  I did sell a few, probably because the people who bought them thought I was cute.. Mostly, though, the adults would laugh and politely say no thank you.

I went home that day with most of my rocks, yet I was so excited that one or two adults saw the love I had for these mysterious creations of God.  With 50 cents in hand, I went out and bought lots of candy!

My love for rocks still exists.  I always keep enough to play with in my home, and use some to decorate my candle holders.  They are a reminder strength, and endurance. I just bought myself a necklace with rocks in it!   Rocks stand the test of time, and most important, that one grain of sand among thousands that makes up one rock, may have lived a million years ago… you never know!

There are many rocks and crystals with healing powers, I know, but these simple rocks and my love for these pebbles, heal me in ways I could have never imagined, and I am grateful for them.

What symbolism do you put on rocks?  What comes to mind when you think of them?

The Bright Pink Backpack


little girl collecting rocks

I come into the peace of wild things who do not tax their lives with forethought of grief…. For a time I rest in the grace of the world, and am free. ~Wendell Berry, “The Peace of Wild Things”

Last week I received a Tarot reading from my new friend Sylvia van Bruggen. Since I’ve been struggling with Anxiety Disorder, I was hoping to get to the bottom of why I am suffering attacks again after an almost 10 year hiatus. What is the cause of my anxiety? How am I going to free myself from this crippling angst I get every so often in my day? Although I still experience joy, laughter, happiness and “good days” my “bad moments” are starting to wear me down a little..and I have so much I want to do. Every single message I’ve been getting from friends, symbolism and readings are leading me to believe I’m not far from my “moment” and really… I am experiencing it (the moment) now! My anxiety may be the transformation process I need to experience. With all this said, Sylvia, wrote a story after the reading. The story brought me warm tears… She gave me permission to share it with you.

  • Note: Something Sylvia didn’t know when she wrote this story is when I was a little girl I used to collect rocks from my aunts beach. I also tried to sell them door to door.

Breathe. Let go. And remind yourself that this very moment is the only one you know you have for sure.

  Oprah Winfrey

Once upon a time there was a girl. When she was born a faerie appeared, and gave her a bright pink back pack. The girl loved it, she kept it by her side every day. As soon as she could walk, she followed a path, curving through a dense forest.
She enjoyed life so much, she played with the birds, danced with the butterflies and giggled at the rabbits as they raced ahead of her on the path.
Then she found some stones along her path, and without realizing why, she put those stones in her back pack. Before long the back pack became so heavy her shoulders began to ache and she no longer saw the rabbits, the birds and the butterflies. All she knew was that she had to walk on, with her heavy bag.
“Why do you carry those stones with you?”
She looked up and saw the faerie, standing with her arms crossed and a smile on her face.
The girl said, “I… don’t know?”
“Do they make your path easier?”
The girl shook her head.
“Do you need them?”
The girl shook her head again.
The faerie smiled. “Do you know why those stones were there?”
The girl sighed. “I don’t know?”
“The stones are there to remind you to always look around you, to not take every step for granted. To keep enjoying life as you stand still to enjoy the beauty around you.”
The girl took off her backpack and tossed the stones out. She put the back pack on again, and said, “Then what is the pack for?”
The faerie smiled, “Happy memories.”     – written by :   Sylvia van Bruggen

 

Time for me.. to unload!