I love rocks. I know it seems silly - I'm okay with that!
To me, it’s not just the physical aspect of rocks, but the sense of history and unfathomable layers of stories they embody. Stories I will never know.
Rocks also remind me of our humanity. Diverse shapes, sizes, colors, and origins all a part of a greater whole. Some rocks are ordinary on the outside, but extraordinary beneath the shell, while others glisten and lure us to desire, only to reveal lackluster within. Much like people, don't you think?
I pick up rocks when I travel, and in tiny font I write from where they came. I ponder their history and cherish the marker merging our existence. My most historic rocks are from visits to Stonehenge, Rosslyn Chapel, The Great Wall of China, and the Parthenon. My most cherished however, are those given to me.
The gifted rock says, “It’s just a rock, but I know it is meaningful to you”. When someone pulls a rock from their pocket, my heart smiles for I know I am fully accepted, silly quirks, imperfections and all.