And the Rocks Cry Out

All this month The Divine has pressed upon me how the rocks are alive and how they communicate their aliveness to me. In the Ecopsychology program at Naropa, our Professor had us go to a place we felt serene and ask The Divine to show us a rock that we would take home, bathe and care for, and converse with over the next month. Then we were to bring our rock to class and share what our rock revealed to us. Tina told us that rocks are indeed alive and have been around since the beginning of time. They are full of stories if we just listen. I thought it rather silly and didn’t understand what her intentions for us were–and still are.

Like the Prayer Cairn, my first level of understanding had to be a broader knowledge of rocks and why they have been used as prayer sites for so many hundreds of years. I researched if rocks were indeed alive and looked into scripture and spiritual writings. What I found only touched the surface of what our Professor was entering our connection to The Divine in Their creation. I pondered on this and entered into a gnosis of my own being and how rocks are a mirror into my own “corner stone” of my life on this journey as a parent whose only child has ascended. This month’s blog is what I have found about myself in the past month speaking to rocks.

The first image of a rock is that they are non-living matter. I walk and I talk and I interact with others. I go about my days rolling around. Sometimes my days feel like an avalanche and sometimes my days feel like an eternal stillness. Like the rock, without an external force pushing and pulling upon me, I do not “move.” My energy becomes stagnant and I feel dead inside. There is no “life” within me and I feel only existence without the motion of passion for life. This recognition of mere existence is the first foundation stone I will lay as the spiritual corner stone of what I will build as a life for myself. I must honor this stone, for the honor is the foundation of my recognition of the seasons I am transitioning through within my perspective of my life without my son’s physical presence in it. This honor is a deeper sense of what an honored-life is.

I, like the rock, have witnessed time pass in its “stillness in the night.” The night being my own darkness of refusing to be the Light I so desperately seek in my darkest moments. The rock reminds me that within the stillness lie the sounds that are within my own being which wish to communicate who and where I am in my own journey. Will someone stop and care enough to listen in my stillness? Like the rock, I present a strong, tough composure that has been smoothed by the tidal wave of tears shed over time. The landscapes that have been my changes over the past twenty years have shaped my internal landscapes. Of late I have come face to face with my internal landscapes being sheltered and protected by the outer landscape of the smooth, strong exterior of my rock.

The internal landscape has become a constant prayer cairn. The knowledge has become the basis of gnosis. Each stage, or transformation through the transitions I have experienced in the seasons of my life, reach higher for the Light. The Light being both spiritual and human in my journey. My relationship with The Divine is both spiritual and human. I believe that is what Christ shares with us in the letters and teachings from Him and His Apostles–especially the women. He is the corner stone of gnosis with The Divine Light, both spiritually and humanly. In this I find that a rock is both spiritual and human in its nature and our own stories are carried through time within both the self and the rock we set down as our foundation, or corner stone in life.

I encourage you to go to a place that you feel, in every fiber of your being, as a serene calmness. In this place, ask Spirit to lead you to your rock. Take it home, bathe it, and spend time exchanging stories with it. What stories does it hold that are also yours. I found in my rock I took to school a heart and a face, as well as a journey. I took my rock back where I found it and placed it within the running waters of a small creek by the home I once had in Raleigh, NC. I am still on that journey and the waters are still smoothing and soothing the rough edges from me as they also give me life. In those gifts I have concluded that when I perceive myself as being “dead” inside, just existing, I’m really in a state of transformation as I shed Winter’s sense of still, hollow, darkness.

I would love to hear about your own journey with the rock you choose. Perhaps I’ll be invited to read your own blog posts as we share our own avalanches and stillnesses.

P.S. I don’t think stillnesses is a word–yet. One never knows what impact a pebble can make in the ripples of life.

Upon this rock…