A Stone in Time
There is a saying that grief is like a stone you carry in your pocket. Invisible to most, it is a presence you always sense, close at hand. While this metaphor may be accurate, it implies that stones are dull and immutable, a full stop, a period at the end of a sentence. But what if we consider stones as active mediators between past and future, morphing into new forms across a timelapse that we just find difficult to comprehend? Crack open a stone and you may catch a glimpse of the secret lives it has lived, embedded in fossils and shimmering mineral deposits.
Like a stone, grief does change, but on its own timeline. Often, our struggle with grief is this alternate timeline, when life moves at a separate pace from the rest of the world. It is a struggle to be in the present moment because it is painful. If there’s one thing a stone knows, however, it is how to be in the present moment. Many rocks are home to beautiful crystals, but if a crystal forms rapidly, it will assimilate more impurities, or inclusions, than if it grows slowly. Crystals take their time. It is important not to rush stages of change. Grief wants to be named, to be walked with, cradled in the palm of one’s hand. Only then can it grow into something else. It is a kind of devotion. Let your grief be a stone you carry. Let it silently adjust to the world you are in. Let it crack and fill with water and mineral. Let is grow colors as brilliant as an exploding star.
“Heart of the Pebble
They played with the pebble
Pebble like any pebble
Played with them as though it had no heart
They got mad at the pebble
Smashed it in the grass
And startled they saw its heart
They opened the heart of the pebble
And in it they found a snake
A sleeping coil without dreams
They woke up the snake
The snake spurted upward
And made them run away
They watched from far away
The snake coil round the horizon
And swallow it like an egg
They came back where they started
No snake no grass no pebble
No trace of anything in the circle
They looked at each other and smiled
And then both winked”
This post is an excerpt from Moonlet, my monthly newsletter. Sign up here for monthly tarot spreads, seasonal remedies, and more!
