A vision of prehistoric man appears as I meditate with a Malachite stone in my hand. I am that person, that man who is bare-chested and hairy in this meditative “dream.” So much hair growing at my chest and back I initially think I’m wearing a covering over my upper body. The hair on my head is long, tangled and unwashed. Don’t think I ever combed it, even with my fingers, let alone use some devise to run through the matted hair follicles.
I’m standing before a large stone. It’s smooth, like marble, and is a light tan color with a blend of off-white with streaks of reddish copper lines shooting through it. The lines look like veins. I try to wrap my arms around the stone, but can’t reach that far and so I extend my arms and place my hands on the stone’s surface. My head gently moves forward, resting against the stone and I close my eyes. Don’t know what I expected. A heartbeat? A grunt? A feeling of warmth from this stone-cold object? And then I notice water starting to flow from somewhere above the rock. I feel like it is coming from the stone itself; that the water is part of this solid boulder that is welcoming me and providing nourishment at the same time.
Tilting my head back, I turn my lips up and toward the trickle of water. I open my mouth and I drink. It’s refreshing. I feel a warmth emanating around me, as if there’s a nearby fire. The water is cooling. Calming. Calming any fears I had about where to find my next drink. I realize from some distant level that I am so far back in pre-history, that I lack the most basic development skills. I don’t know that I can “cup” my hand beneath this water and drink from the liquid in the hand. I only know how to use my mouth, to open it and stick out my tounge to lap up the water from the stone animal-like.
Meditation ends and I open my eyes. I see a white-haired woman who speaks of “dancing” with the “stone” before a fire. She describes the warmth of the fire and I imagine that she, a woman named Susan, was with me in the dream. I believe she was in the same cave-like environment, perhaps making an offering and submitting herself, surrendering to whatever god we believed would help us, help humanity.
But Susan is fully dressed. Like me, she’s seated on carpeted floor. For the first time, I notice her matching pants and blouse. And she wearing spectacles.
To my right is Sarah, a dark-haired woman, also wearing glasses, who recalls feeling a “stone” as cold as mine. A cold as the night during a snow-covered, nearby, Valley Forge winter. But soon, the stone became as warm as those that Susan and I notice changing in our grasps, with me almost caressing this smooth, polished green rock. I believe that we all journeyed back in time and to another place during this contact with the stones. Sarah was with us, but said she was unable, as yet, to “hear” the words the stones were using. Could be that they used no words to speak. Only images, feelings and a communion from the Mother Earth as we opened ourselves enough to listen and not judge the message of the stones.
The three of us have just took part in a “Stone Listening Circle” led by Tracie Nichols, co-director of Eco Libra, a small “Wellness Center” in Erdenhiem, PA, (outside Philadelphia) where she helps to manage the New Age Sanctuary. She’s partners with Katryn Lavanture ( email@example.com and
www.newwaysanctuary.com, a healer who works with Universal Tuning Forks and Tibetan Singer Bowls, who taught a class I attended last month. (See Ring of truth played with bowls & forks, and Tibetan singing bowl aids a goddess & me.)
For Part II, please see
For even more, see