This is so beautiful and beautifully written, Justyna! Your voice is quite reminiscent of John O'Donohue in fact. Anam Cara is a book I just love spending time in.
Let's see, some lines I really liked or that struck me. When you started a paragraph with, "On my desk, I keep two large stones..." I had to laugh; I was immediately reminded of Thoreau. Do you know the passage? "I had three pieces of limestone on my desk..." Of course it ends quite differently! 😆
I loved this line: "To hold a stone is to hold a piece of the earth’s ancient story, a fragment of a mountain that once kissed the sky and now lies cradled in the palm." It's always good to remember that stones are not so different from people; changing all the time.
And this: "While humans perceive time as a progression toward an end, stones remain untouched by this awareness, dwelling in what might be described as "geological time"—a deeper, slow, ancient rhythm that brushes against eternity." I think this is very sad for humans, but solvable! We just need to retrain ourselves NOT to see time as a progression toward an end. If we tell a different story, the stone's story—that we are also fragments of an ancient history, a never-ending history—perhaps we won't be so attached to these 5'-8"-tall oblong bits of ancient stone that look so pretty we want to defy nature and keep them just as they are forever! (In Thoreau's story, he ends up tossing his bits of limestone out the door. Perhaps there is a good metaphor for us there!)
Thank you so much for quoting me in your essay, Justyna. It's a true honor! 🙏💚
Don, thank you so much for reading, sharing, and appreciating!
Thank you so much for your kind words and for sharing that beautiful connection to John O'Donohue!
Anam Cara is such a beautiful book—I like how you said you spend time “in” it, not “with” it. It does feel this way for me too when I read it. I’m also truly honoured and humbled that my words reminded you of John O’Donohue!
I didn’t know the passage you referred to from Thoreau, as I only read his work partially so far, so I’ve done a little reading now to make up for it, and I must say your reference is quite accurate and funny!
I think there’s a lot to learn from that parallel, as you mentioned—sometimes, we do need to let go, whether it’s objects, attachments, or ideas, to truly find freedom.
It’s funny how the stones can represent both groundedness and transcendence beyond our limiting (and oblong :) ) form, and they can also represent the burden we carry—I am reminded of the short discussion we had a few days ago about internal vs external words and how we try to manifest the former everywhere we go.
To let things be as they are is an eternal struggle :)
And I completely agree with your reflection on time. If we could only shift our perception to see time as cyclical, endless, and more in tune with the rhythms of nature, perhaps we would feel more at peace, less bound by our human desire for permanence.
Like stones, we are also part of something much larger and older than our brief moment here.
Thank you again for your thoughtful comment! I’m truly touched by your words, and it’s a joy to share this connection. 🙏🤍
Thank you, Justyna. I recently walked at an ocean-edge wildlife refuge in Newport, Rhode Island, and thought of you and your essay. The stones there are really something. Some of them reflect the split from Africa 200-million years ago.
I like to pick up a smooth stone when I’m walking on the beach and carry it with me, turning it in the palm of my hand through the walk, then returning it before I leave.
I also collect stones; only ones with a white stripe through them. They call them “wishing stones,” as I’m sure you know. My collection started at my wife’s aunt’s funeral. She collected them, and her collection was on display at the cemetery, along a stone wall. Everyone was invited to take a couple. I’ve been collecting them on my beach walks since.
Thank you for sharing this, Don! So nice to know my essay came to your mind again during your walk :)
I never heard about wishing stones! I just checked, and it turns out the one I keep on my desk actually has a white band around it!
The story of your wife's aunt is very touching, too. It makes me smile to know so many of us have a connection with stones, even if sometimes we might not understand why we feel pulled to connect with them. And while I tried to explore those motives in my essay, I also enjoy leaving this impression just as it is and staying with the warm feeling that spreads across my mind and heart as I think about it :) I suppose it's just good to know we can all have friends wherever we go.
I have many different stone friends, each with a different story; all born of the same mother Earth. They have accompanied me through many phases and walks; I regularly return them to nature as part of my own passage through life. When I assumed sharing stories and teaching others, my initial inner courage was held together in my hand, accompanied by a stone while words formed in my mouth through feelings. Their constancy helps me find and remember my own, even though we know it only momentarily. To be able to speak a truth (a mere grain of sand), requires great courage at times, especially when some past story tells you that you do not exist at all (in the eyes of others). Once while teaching, a girl shared with me that in her childhood, her only friends were some stones in her urban back yard of concrete; I was and am still touched by the depth of her solitude and what we shared when she shared.
Their being, born in fire like the stars, is not humiliated as it becomes dust; such profound teaching for we who can walk here for a short time. we, as pebbles (as so beautifully told in this poem you share)
Thank you so much for sharing this beautiful reflection, Peter!
Where to start...
It’s truly moving to hear about your "stone friends" and the way they’ve accompanied you on your journey. I love how you describe how their constancy reminds you of your own strength, even in those fleeting moments. In such moments we can really see how much we can lean on onto nature, both externally present, and that within us, which moves us through all these tiny moments that stretch to eternity.
Your story about the girl who found companionship in stones is also incredibly touching for two reasons—it reminds me how profoundly connected we can be to the smallest, often overlooked elements of the world around us, especially in moments of solitude. But also, it reminds me of a little me, who also found companionship among stones and sticks and trees, struggling to connect deeply with others.
And finally, how beautifully you pointed it out—stones are born of fire like the stars, and yet know no shame as they return to dust. It's something to remember especially when we go through the many deaths during our lives, as we get closer and closer to what and who we truly are deep within and throughout. The beauty and courage of simply being :)
Thank you again for this deep and poetic reflection—it feels fresh and nourishing like a conversation with the earth itself. I’m grateful to have shared in this moment with you!
our family, led by my mother, camped out for one month every summer of childhood. we traveled from Death Valley, Petrified Forest, and Grand Canyon in the south to Banff, Glacier, and Yellowstone in the north… throughout the years. Children usually recognize rocks for the instant friends they can become. we had many… and still do.
Wonderful article you gave us. Now I fully understand the inherent attraction and RESPECT. I do not say Thank you! lightly 😘
This is so beautiful and beautifully written, Justyna! Your voice is quite reminiscent of John O'Donohue in fact. Anam Cara is a book I just love spending time in.
Let's see, some lines I really liked or that struck me. When you started a paragraph with, "On my desk, I keep two large stones..." I had to laugh; I was immediately reminded of Thoreau. Do you know the passage? "I had three pieces of limestone on my desk..." Of course it ends quite differently! 😆
I loved this line: "To hold a stone is to hold a piece of the earth’s ancient story, a fragment of a mountain that once kissed the sky and now lies cradled in the palm." It's always good to remember that stones are not so different from people; changing all the time.
And this: "While humans perceive time as a progression toward an end, stones remain untouched by this awareness, dwelling in what might be described as "geological time"—a deeper, slow, ancient rhythm that brushes against eternity." I think this is very sad for humans, but solvable! We just need to retrain ourselves NOT to see time as a progression toward an end. If we tell a different story, the stone's story—that we are also fragments of an ancient history, a never-ending history—perhaps we won't be so attached to these 5'-8"-tall oblong bits of ancient stone that look so pretty we want to defy nature and keep them just as they are forever! (In Thoreau's story, he ends up tossing his bits of limestone out the door. Perhaps there is a good metaphor for us there!)
Thank you so much for quoting me in your essay, Justyna. It's a true honor! 🙏💚
Don, thank you so much for reading, sharing, and appreciating!
Thank you so much for your kind words and for sharing that beautiful connection to John O'Donohue!
Anam Cara is such a beautiful book—I like how you said you spend time “in” it, not “with” it. It does feel this way for me too when I read it. I’m also truly honoured and humbled that my words reminded you of John O’Donohue!
I didn’t know the passage you referred to from Thoreau, as I only read his work partially so far, so I’ve done a little reading now to make up for it, and I must say your reference is quite accurate and funny!
I think there’s a lot to learn from that parallel, as you mentioned—sometimes, we do need to let go, whether it’s objects, attachments, or ideas, to truly find freedom.
It’s funny how the stones can represent both groundedness and transcendence beyond our limiting (and oblong :) ) form, and they can also represent the burden we carry—I am reminded of the short discussion we had a few days ago about internal vs external words and how we try to manifest the former everywhere we go.
To let things be as they are is an eternal struggle :)
And I completely agree with your reflection on time. If we could only shift our perception to see time as cyclical, endless, and more in tune with the rhythms of nature, perhaps we would feel more at peace, less bound by our human desire for permanence.
Like stones, we are also part of something much larger and older than our brief moment here.
Thank you again for your thoughtful comment! I’m truly touched by your words, and it’s a joy to share this connection. 🙏🤍
Thank you, Justyna. I recently walked at an ocean-edge wildlife refuge in Newport, Rhode Island, and thought of you and your essay. The stones there are really something. Some of them reflect the split from Africa 200-million years ago.
I like to pick up a smooth stone when I’m walking on the beach and carry it with me, turning it in the palm of my hand through the walk, then returning it before I leave.
I also collect stones; only ones with a white stripe through them. They call them “wishing stones,” as I’m sure you know. My collection started at my wife’s aunt’s funeral. She collected them, and her collection was on display at the cemetery, along a stone wall. Everyone was invited to take a couple. I’ve been collecting them on my beach walks since.
🙏💚
Thank you for sharing this, Don! So nice to know my essay came to your mind again during your walk :)
I never heard about wishing stones! I just checked, and it turns out the one I keep on my desk actually has a white band around it!
The story of your wife's aunt is very touching, too. It makes me smile to know so many of us have a connection with stones, even if sometimes we might not understand why we feel pulled to connect with them. And while I tried to explore those motives in my essay, I also enjoy leaving this impression just as it is and staying with the warm feeling that spreads across my mind and heart as I think about it :) I suppose it's just good to know we can all have friends wherever we go.
I have many different stone friends, each with a different story; all born of the same mother Earth. They have accompanied me through many phases and walks; I regularly return them to nature as part of my own passage through life. When I assumed sharing stories and teaching others, my initial inner courage was held together in my hand, accompanied by a stone while words formed in my mouth through feelings. Their constancy helps me find and remember my own, even though we know it only momentarily. To be able to speak a truth (a mere grain of sand), requires great courage at times, especially when some past story tells you that you do not exist at all (in the eyes of others). Once while teaching, a girl shared with me that in her childhood, her only friends were some stones in her urban back yard of concrete; I was and am still touched by the depth of her solitude and what we shared when she shared.
Their being, born in fire like the stars, is not humiliated as it becomes dust; such profound teaching for we who can walk here for a short time. we, as pebbles (as so beautifully told in this poem you share)
Thank you so much for sharing this beautiful reflection, Peter!
Where to start...
It’s truly moving to hear about your "stone friends" and the way they’ve accompanied you on your journey. I love how you describe how their constancy reminds you of your own strength, even in those fleeting moments. In such moments we can really see how much we can lean on onto nature, both externally present, and that within us, which moves us through all these tiny moments that stretch to eternity.
Your story about the girl who found companionship in stones is also incredibly touching for two reasons—it reminds me how profoundly connected we can be to the smallest, often overlooked elements of the world around us, especially in moments of solitude. But also, it reminds me of a little me, who also found companionship among stones and sticks and trees, struggling to connect deeply with others.
And finally, how beautifully you pointed it out—stones are born of fire like the stars, and yet know no shame as they return to dust. It's something to remember especially when we go through the many deaths during our lives, as we get closer and closer to what and who we truly are deep within and throughout. The beauty and courage of simply being :)
Thank you again for this deep and poetic reflection—it feels fresh and nourishing like a conversation with the earth itself. I’m grateful to have shared in this moment with you!
Good morning Justyna
our family, led by my mother, camped out for one month every summer of childhood. we traveled from Death Valley, Petrified Forest, and Grand Canyon in the south to Banff, Glacier, and Yellowstone in the north… throughout the years. Children usually recognize rocks for the instant friends they can become. we had many… and still do.
Wonderful article you gave us. Now I fully understand the inherent attraction and RESPECT. I do not say Thank you! lightly 😘
Dear Susy, I'm so happy you made so many rock friends :) And those summers of your childhood sound wonderfully adventurous!
I'm deeply grateful for your last words, and I appreciate your presence here so much! Thank you for reading 🤍
So beautifully written; words somehow like the grains of sand on the beach itself
space / time reveals through your words.
I am Touched; Feel; Experience; One