The loving stone
If I were to tell you a story about a loving stone, would you believe me? I mean, it sounds a bit weird. But if you’re willing to listen, by the end of this tale, you might realise that love is to be found where you least expect it. Even in a small pebble on a vast beach by the stormy ocean.
This beach lies close to the West, on a coast where life thrives in hidden forms. Behind the dunes grows rugged bushes that wave collectively in the wind. Below the sand, small crabs dig tunnels and holes. In the green water, seaweed softly waves in all shapes and colors. And through the seaweed swims tiny little fish, so quick and so decisive. But the most hidden life is to be found in the pebbles that cover the beach. Humans don’t know that the pebbles are alive. Why would they? Pebbles don’t move, they don’t speak and they don’t breathe. Yet, they are alive. And just like any other living thing, they love.
Pebbles love hard and deeply. In fact, a pebble might be the most loving thing anyone could ever find on this planet. They’re constantly lost in love, caring so hard that their essence sometimes feels like it will burst. In their enormously everlasting existence, they are always better together. Feeling. Being. Falling so slowly. Next to each other. For each other. And that’s where this story starts. With one little pebble and her deep love.
On a windy autumn day, I think about a year ago, a large bird was floating through the air. It was one of those super big birds that humans would gather in groups to watch. However, on this specific day no one knew that this rare bird was around. Surfing the winds. And while passing the beach, the bird saw a pebble in the way that only a bird can do. It quickly dove towards the beach, picked up the pebble with its orange beak and did a fast turn to the right while rising high again. A few seconds later the bird dropped the pebble in what seemed to be a random choice. (I’m not so sure though, the drop might have been one of the unexplainable universal notions of determined time and space).
The pebble fell fast through the air and landed with a few bounces before laying still on a new geographical location. It was actually not very far from where it had started, yet far enough to have a new perspective of the beach. And although the event wasn’t super traumatic for the pebble, stones are quite used to be moved around, something felt different. It wasn’t until later that evening that our pebble realised why she felt her existence being shuffled. Next to her, towards her left and overlooking the shimmering ocean, laid the most beautiful stone she had ever seen.
If you’ve truly felt love, direct and forceful, then you understand what these stones were going through. Magnetised by their existence they both fell deep into each other's beings. That happens to some creatures while they are alive, but certainly not for all. The stones knew. It all made sense. Still, not all love is there to exist. Everything changes. For reasons that are too long and too hard to explain within this tale, these two little stones, on a beach in a very brief moment in history, could not be with each other.
But what do you do, as a stone, next to another stone, when your love can’t be but your love still exists? That is what the tiny pebble was wondering. And time passed. Winter storms thundered around her. Ice covered her cheeks. Hints of spring brought birds above her head. And the warmer ocean fog covered her mornings in a beautiful haze.
Somehow, with time, most living things reconcile with what is. Most of us don’t linger in vacuums of discomfort. Survival asks from us to seek beyond, to move forward. Yet, when you’re a stone this movement can seem like a daily struggle, and the need to clear your mind and stay with your troubles is the only thing you can do. Our pebble was brave, she profoundly knew which reality was given to her. One of courage. And of sublime yearning.
She knew that when love comes your way, you need to hold it. Carefully. And she did. All while the birds flew above her. Love is to be found where you least expect it. In a stone. In a moment. In a passing wind.
