The Stone

Once upon a time there was a Stone. Upon casual glance, the Stone may not appear out of the ordinary, especially to one who may not be attuned to sensing the non-ordinary. However, this was no ordinary stone. The Stone was heart-shaped, small enough to fit comfortably in the palm of the hand, extremely smooth and glossy,  and made of rose quartz. Whenever anyone held the Stone in the palm of their hand, they tended to rub and caress it, almost as if the Stone begged to be rubbed and caressed. It had a small defect on one of its heart-shaped lobes, and when most people held the Stone, for some reason, they tended to be drawn to the area with the small defect. The area with the defect was completely in contrast to the smooth and glossy finish of the rest of the Stone. The rough area was, in an oddly attractive sense, abrasive and bristly.

The Stone had been in existence in the Kingdom for quite some time, at least several thousand years. It had been in existence for so long that the true origin of the Stone was now purely a matter of conjecture. No doubt the Stone had originally been forged and honed by a craftsman of great skill. Indeed, this was what a person who could sense the value of the Stone tended to be first impressed by. Through the history of the Stone, which to this day is hopelessly lost, it had undoubtedly passed through the hands of hundreds of individuals. And upon further scrutiny, it was the individual interpretation of each of these nameless, faceless, and uncountable individuals throughout the pages of history where the True Meaning of the Stone lie.

And so it was that the Stone came to be in the hands of a rather unsuspecting Young Man. It was such that on a completely unsuspecting day, in the midst of a terrible storm the Young Man was trudging the creek bed near his home in an attempt to return to his dwelling. Through this terrible storm, and within what was typically a murky and cloudy pool of water, there was suddenly a pool of clarity that opened. There, in the pool lay the Stone. The Young Man, completely unsuspecting and thoroughly ignorant of the greater surroundings and meaning of the moment, reached down and plucked the Stone from the clear pool. He took a casual glance at the Stone, placed it in his pocket, and continued to trudge through the stream and the storm toward his home.

When the Young Man reached his humble dwelling, he placed the Stone on his mantle, and thought no further of it. After warming himself near the fire, he went to bed and didn’t give the Stone another thought.  That night, the Young Man had vivid and clear dreams about the storm of the day, about the clear pool, and about the Stone. He awoke in the night, went to the mantle, and took the Stone back to his bed. The Young Man slept no more that night. At that point, the Young Man realized the meaning of the Stone. He remembered the legends that he had heard as a child about the Stone, and how it had affected the people upon whom it was visited. To many the Stone was a blessing. To some the Stone was a curse beyond tolerance. And it all came down to the meaning that the individual placed upon the Stone, for none could escape the clarity, honesty, and purity that the Stone embodied. Upon realizing the meaning of the Stone, the Young Man became overwhelmingly troubled.

The next day, the Young Man began to plot the way that he would relieve himself of the Stone. For, you see, as the Tradition of the Stone would have it, once an individual possessed the Stone, the Stone would not release them.  Or, from another perspective, they could not rid themselves of the Stone. The Stone came into one’s life for a purpose, and until that purpose was fulfilled, the Stone released no one. Knowing this, and firmly believing that the Stone was a curse to him, the Young Man plotted to destroy the Stone.

The Young Man vowed to break the Stone into fine sand and scatter the grains along the road in front of his house. He went to his workshop, and gathered his largest sledge hammer. He placed the Stone upon a large rock behind his house, and drew the sledge hammer to his heels to make a full swing and destroy the Stone in one blow. Alas, at the moment of impact, the handle of the sledge hammer broke, and the steel head of the sledge hammer was diverted and hit the young man’s left foot. The young man wept silently and bitterly in his pain. He limped, favoring his left side, for several years after this incident. For quite some time, the Stone lay back on the mantle of the Young Man’s house and collected dust. During this time, the lament of the Young Man increased in a slow and painful fashion, for he alone held the key to the meaning of the Stone in his life.

Slowly, the Young Man became troubled by the Stone again. He plotted another method to rid himself of the Stone. He took the Stone from the mantle and flushed it down his commode. For about three days, he congratulated himself on his brilliance. How could this benign act possibly haunt him? No sledge hammer, no Stone, no consequence. After some time, his commode stopped up, and there became a terrible stench all about the Young Man’s house. Sludge and dung from afar began to back up into the Young Man’s house. His neighbors came to chastise him for whatever misdeed he had committed. He could not face the truth of the situation, he could not possibly tell them that he possessed the Stone. Even worse, he could never admit in all Honesty what he had done with the Stone. All within the kingdom knew the Stone, many sought the Stone for the magic it carried. However, for reasons that only the Young Man could discern, to him it was a curse beyond comprehension. Finally, he dug the Stone out of his plumbing pipes. Begrudgingly and with much cursing he cleaned it, and he returned it to his mantle.

Once again, some time later, the Young Man plotted a way to rid himself of the Stone. He carried the Stone far away to the Mountains where there was a deep Spring of clear fresh water called the Oracle. This was a sacred place of much Spiritual Power, and the Young Man prayed with all his heart that the gods on high would relieve him of his burden and bless his effort to be rid of the Stone. He climbed the path on the mountain for days to reach the Oracle. After fasting and praying three more days he tossed the Stone into the deep abyss that opened below him. He immediately felt a tremendous sense of relief. The Oracle could not maim his body, it could not back stench into his house. And the Oracle had not refused to accept the Stone. Finally, the Young Man was relieved of the Stone. Happily, and with a gleam in his eyes, he started the long journey back to his home.

When the Young Man came within sight of his house, he noticed that there were several dozen buzzards circling slowly and intently in the sky above his home. He did not know what this might mean, but immediately  he had a deep, nauseous, and overwhelming sense of despair. He knew, somehow, deep within his Soul, that the Stone was not finished with him. He approached the house slowly and when he arrived at the  house, the buzzards all came to light on his rooftop. There, on the threshold beneath his front door, lay the Stone. The Young Man took the Stone into the house, placed it back on the mantle, and he wept bitterly and uncontrollably.

At this point, the Young Man was troubled by his troubles. In his effort to rid himself of The Stone, he had completely lost touch with why the Stone troubled him. The treacherous malady that his effort to rid himself of the Stone far exceeded whatever was his initial trouble. In a single moment, he simply considered the Stone to be the Stone.  He slowly, and without resistance, came to accept the Stone in his life. He began to consider that perhaps the Stone might be a blessing, and it could come to something good if only he would not resist the Clarity, Light and Love that the Stone may embody. Perhaps the only problem was his Fear of the Stone, and not the Stone itself? Could it possibly be that there is no Earthly control to be forced upon the Stone?

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