Welcome.
Take a moment to arrive here just as you are.
Let your body settle,
Your breath soften,
And just visualize yourself sitting on the earth,
Surrounded by silence.
And all around you,
Scattered across time and space,
Are stones.
There is a story the earth tells,
If you listen closely,
And it is the story of the stones.
Long before there were buildings,
Long before there were roads,
Long before there were even people,
There were stones.
Silent,
Patient,
Waiting.
Some rose into great mountains,
Others tumbled into valleys,
And others broke away into small fragments scattered across the earth.
And did you know each stone is shaped by time itself?
Rain polishes them smooth,
Rivers carry them,
Mountains grind them down.
And for centuries,
Some stones lie dry,
Untouched by water.
And then,
In an instant,
They are bathed in rain,
Soaked by rivers,
Or washed by the sea.
And the dry stone becomes wet,
It glistens,
Shining with new life.
And yet,
When the rains pass and the waters move on,
The stone becomes dry again.
It does not resist,
It receives,
It releases,
It returns.
And this is the language of stones.
They speak of endurance,
Of patience,
Of stillness.
They speak of change,
Of seasons,
Of time's endless cycles.
And they whisper to us,
You too can endure.
You too can be touched by life and remain whole.
Some stones become crystals,
Hidden deep in the earth until they are discovered.
And these crystals carry colors like frozen fire,
Like captured light.
People hold them,
Treasure them,
Believe in their energy.
Yet even the most ordinary stone beneath your feet carries a vibration.
It's a quiet strength you can feel if you pause long enough to notice.
The stones remind us that we too are shaped by forces beyond our control.
Joy,
Sorrow,
Loss,
Love,
Laughter,
Longing,
All flow through us like water over stone.
And just as the stone becomes wet,
So we are soaked in feeling.
And just as the stone dries,
We too return to our essence.
The emotions pass but our being remains.
Now just see yourself carrying a stone in your hand.
Feel its cool weight,
Its steadiness.
It doesn't strive to be anything other than what it is.
And still it has lived through centuries,
Storms,
Rivers,
Fires,
Seasons.
So,
The stone whispers,
You don't have to hurry.
You don't have to prove yourself.
Like me,
You are already enough.
Legends say that stones are the Earth's memory keepers.
They remember what we forget.
They hold the stories of oceans and mountains,
Of deserts and rivers,
Of all the lives that have passed before.
When you place your ear to the silence of a stone,
Perhaps you too can hear the memory,
The world.
So,
Next time you walk along a path,
Pause for a moment,
Look at the stones beneath your feet.
Perhaps one has been waiting centuries for you to notice it.
Just pick it up,
Feel its stillness,
Feel its endurance and let it remind you of your own resilience.
And if you carry it with you for a time,
In your pocket,
On a desk or in a sacred space,
Let it be a teacher.
Let it remind you that just as the stone accepts the rain and then dries again,
You too can allow emotions to flow through you.
You can feel deeply and still remain whole.
This is the legend of the stones.
Silent,
Patient,
Enduring.
They are always speaking.
And the question is,
Are we listening?
Just take a breath here.
Notice the ground beneath you,
The steady support of the Earth.
Perhaps you feel a little more rooted,
A little more anchored,
Simply by remembering the stones.
As you move into the rest of your day,
May you carry their wisdom with you.
The strength of endurance,
The calm of stillness,
The grace of allowing life to flow through you.
So,
Until we meet again,
May the quiet language of stone remind you that you are whole,
You are steady,
You are enough.
Namaste,
My friends.
