Rocks.
I love my rocks.
That sounds stupid even in writing- but there it is.
I have a collection of rocks. In this collection is a rock taken from every dig site I’ve ever worked on.
The others are crystal rocks; amethyst, quartz, lapis lazuli, turquoise, obsidian, tigers eye. I love the healing energies that surround these- and the way they look when the sunlight hits them.
The other rocks I’ve collected in many random, and some special, moments in my life.
Sitting by the river that runs through my property. Scuba diving down to the ocean bed of the Adriatic Sea. Out of the wish fountain where I had my first kiss.
A rockpool of stories that just keeps growing.
When you think about it, a rock is a rare anomaly. Like snowflakes, there are no two rocks of the same kind. They are not alive, but they are all natural. Carved out over years by the incessant and tenacious beat of the elements, the world’s rocks are poignant in their raw and uncharted state.
That’s another thing I love so much about my work; when you’re constantly dealing with nature, you are able to gain enough appreciation for the world and all its wonders, that you loose the consumerist mentality that drives the minds of most people. (Although being paid fairly little i’m sure also has something to do with this.)
To finish this post I’d like to include one of my favourite philosophical stories… actually I’m pretty sure it’s a Hawaiian proverb…
When every child is born, it comes into the world with a bowl of light.
As the child grows up stones begin to be placed in the bowl.
Some are placed there by others, but, more disturbingly, some are put there by the child itself.
Eventually the light dims, but it never goes away completely.
Soon the hard work of removing the stones must begin.
The only enemy in this task is fear.
