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I’m writing about rocks. Plain ol’ river stones — the ones that you buy in a bag at the nursery. I’ve had these critters for 22 years. What makes me smile is that there’s so much tied up with them. Well, I will tell you more here…

I bought these rocks before I had a spiritual awakening. Didn’t know they were consciousnesses. Had no idea that they had healing properties, as well as grounding and protective abilities. They were “perty.” At first, I dressed filled planters by circling them with the stones and displayed them on my front steps. Landscapers would leaf blow some into the shrub bed and, over the years, I would lose a few. They were buried nicely. No mourning. Just allowing, thanking them for their “Aesthetic Service,” and focusing on who were left. As I lost them, they went from “whats” to “whos.” Connection was being made.

Over the years, the containers corroded and it became more difficult to pot plants. I lost the mojo and the interest in doing this. However, the rocks, now “polished crystals” from my new spiritual vantage point, spoke loudly to me. They were kept in the garage during the colder months and turned out once the last snow had departed.

This past year, I shifted with respect to the rocks and Joanie. I saw them as protectors. I don’t need any more protection because I know I’m good; a little more always helps. (smile) My mind’s eye showed me a straight line across the second step. The rocks would be placed just so and offer the house’s inhabitants not only protection, but also a buffer so only good energy would enter. Voilà! Instant satisfaction as my clairvoyance guided me with the placement of each dear friend. From the street driving by, one could spy a distinct line of something adorning my step. I found this neato!

The landscapers continued to leaf blow them around. My efforts to protect them a day before they would arrive were always successful. The babes sat in a metal bowl in my foyer until the coast was clear. Sometimes, before returning them to their home outside, I’d wash and dry them. Elegant and smooth, grading in size, I waited until I felt it was turn out time.

Recently, I got the bug to change things up. Creativity itched within and a pattern was born. Without thinking, I made a new step decoration that deeply satisfied me. “Are these just rocks?” I ponder. I do not feel so. My heart responds that this form of Creator, which appears as a stone has held me dear as I now hold it dear. I recall another lifetime in a mine. I know that I used a mortar and pestle in other lifetimes. (Unsure whether they were made of stone, but this resonates strongly.)

This connection that strengthened over the years has delighted me to date. What began as a purchase with little heart attachment transformed into a Love between souls. Yes. I believe rocks are part of the Oneness and are souls taking on a solid appearance for growth opportunities. (Remember: I’m the hippie gone psychic.)

So, this penning is about what begins as not much and develops into much. As we wake up, we return to our Knowing that we are all aspects of the Oneness. It takes all shapes and sizes. Some are small, others large. Silent and vocal. Hard and soft. Follow your Guidance and enjoy the process. The river stones will remain with me for they bring me a giggle, tickle, and much pleasure. It is Love.

My nothing much to something more inspired me to inspire you.