The Pull of Rocks
My youngest son collects rocks. And while he’s not particularly discriminating about which ones he takes, he tracks them mentally…we know because we’ve tried to “return” them to the earth only for Sam to notice that his “favorite” rock is missing. The other day, I paid him in Robux to go through one very, very heavy bin of them and re-earth at least half. I was surprised—and a little sad—that he obliged. It seems that his fascination with Robux is outpacing his obsession with quartz.
As he sorted through the bin, he gave me a few rocks from his collection for safekeeping by my desk, including one that he had painted. It’s a dark gray rock, completely unremarkable aside from some hasty splashes of color, but I found myself holding it while I worked the other day. It’s very soft—not polished, but smooth, and surprisingly heavy for something that fits in the palm. Rocks want to be nestled against the ground—their gravitational pull is strong, and I found myself letting my arm hang as I held it.
While I’ve never been much of a crystal person, I started buying them during trips to Sedona in recent years, letting myself wander around Crystal Magic until drawn to something specific. And every time I’m there, I pick up a new talisman from Phoenix Two Moons, who makes beautiful cuffs, necklaces, and amulets (see above). These choices have largely been at least partially aesthetic, but recently I’m convinced I’ve been able to discern different energetic qualities. And yes, while I intellectually know how critical crystals are for so much of our technology, it took a long time for me to accept that they can telegraph both power and information. And intention. I’ve come to believe that they are an encapsulation of spirit + matter—a very specific form of energy confined to the physical.
As Llewellyn Vaughan-Lee writes in Light of Oneness: “The substance of spiritual transformation is in the very cellular structure of life. It has to do with the way energy forms into matter. The transformation of energy into matter is one of the mysteries of creation. It is a continual process in which the invisible comes into form. Particle physics has shown us that the world of matter is not as it appears, but is a constantly changing dance of probability. Energy and matter are different images of the same reality. But there is a dynamic of transition when energy takes on form. This is part of the wonder of revelation, the instant in which His invisible presence becomes visible.”
As the name of the store in Sedona suggests, crystals are magic. I think all rocks are, really, even though I don’t necessarily want to store bins of them in our quite small house.
In Kitchen Table Wisdom, Dr. Rachel Naomi Remen offers:
For more than twenty years I have offered a very simple yet powerful ritual to people before their radiation, chemotherapy, or surgery. I suggest they met together with some of their closest friends and family the day before their procedure. It does not matter how large or small the group is, but it is important that it be made up of those who are connected to them through a bond of the heart.
Before this meeting I suggest they find an ordinary stone, a piece of the earth, big enough to fit in the palm of their hand, and bring it to the meeting with them. The ritual begins by having everyone sit in a circle. In any order they wish to speak, each person tells the story of a time when they too faced a crisis. People may talk about the death of important persons, the loss of jobs or of relationships, or even about their own illnesses. The person who is speaking holds the stone the patient has brought. When they finish telling their story of survival, they take a moment to reflect on the personal quality that they feel helped them come through that difficult time. People will say such things as “What brought me through was determination,” “What brought me through was faith,” “What brought me through was humor.” When they have named the quality of their strength, they speak directly to the person preparing for surgery or treatment, saying, “I put determination into this stone for you,” or, “I put faith into this stone for you.”
Before we return Sam’s rocks to nature, we will fill them with intentions first.