Image shows a rippling sunlit pool of water surrounded by rocks and ferns.
I started as expected. The Way it is done. Eyes closed. Hands folded just so. Then I felt my bones pressing into the stone seat. A blade of grass Tickled my foot.
My eyes opened. I watched bees gather at the waters edge to share a drink and talk of sweetest flowers.
Two butterflies dared each other on invisible currents.
Bird landed, flitted and chirped.
A rock leaned over to talk to a tree.
Tree curve echoed the curve of the creek.
And I knew.
It is every bit as much a prayer, being part of things as they unfold, As to sit. As expected. The Way it is done. Eyes closed. Hands folded just so.
The other day I was talking with a friend, and they mentioned another friend who was holding on to ways of being that were no longer serving them and weighing them down. I gently told my friend that some of what they were dealing with was beyond the scope of friendship (i.e. a good time to bring in a mental health professional), and at times the best we can do is be a witness to someone else’s journey. And then I said:
“It’s like they have a bunch of rocks in their pocket! It’s like they’ve collected all these rocks of experience and habits over the years, put them in their pocket, and won’t get rid of them.”
We went on to talk about how sometimes it’s so challenging to release habits and ways of thinking that really aren’t doing us any good. Rocks in a pocket is a good analogy. Some are pretty and nice to take out to look at now and then, some get annoying and poke us, and others bunch together and take up space we could use for something else, weighing us down and slowing our journey.
I suggested it could be an interesting exercise to go out on a walk, collect rocks, or find some near a lakeshore or creek edge. Hold each rock, name what it represents, say what you’re making room for, and send the rock sailing into the water (being mindful of any nearby living things). Water is so purifying, and it would be satisfying to watch the ripples as the water settled back into calm.
My friend said it could be cool to do it on a hike and throw rocks into a canyon, to which I replied… you’d want to be sure no one was down below so you don’t bonk someone on the head with your troubles (i.e. transfer your burdens on to someone else).
If you’re not able to get somewhere to empty your pocket of rocks, I suppose you could write things on paper and burn them (be safe!), or as an acquaintance did years ago, put on some goggles and smash garage sale dishes in your basement, naming what each item represented. That person ended up making mosaics with all the broken bits! Some cities have rage rooms, where for a fee you can go smash stuff.
But there’s nothing quite so satisfying as flinging a rock with all your might, and watching it disappear into the water.
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