Sticks and Stones

By: Rebecca Liston

In case you hadn’t already guessed, I will let you in on a little secret about me: I love rocks.

When we moved last summer, The Movers (aka my husband and his crew) found themselves lifting many, many heavy boxes.

“What the hell is in this, anyways?!? Rocks?!?”


(If my husband’s friends didn’t think I was a bit odd before that, then they certainly did now!)

I have rocks on almost every flat surface in my home. Maybe just one. Maybe a handful. Whatever strikes my fancy.

I have jars filled with them randomly placed around my house, and my office has not one, not two, not three, but four decorative bowls and glasses filled to the brim.

I have rocks from the local beaches of Port Stanley, the Bruce Peninsula, Muskoka, and Bayfield. And rocks from the Rocky Mountains, the Cabot Trail, and all points in between.

I have trekked through airports with rocks stuffed in every pocket from Holland, Kenya, Egypt, Venezuela, the US, Mexico, the Dominican, England, Scotland, France, and every other country I have ever visited.

I have rocks that I have carried with me since I was a child. And some I picked up just last week.

There are massive rocks that I lugged off the beach in The Bruce – flat, fossilized, and heavy AF. And there are the tiny pebbles I grabbed a fistful of off the beach in Port the night before I was married.

Interspersed within these piles of rocks are crystals. And gemstones. Feathers. Acorns. Pine cones. Dried flowers. Seashells. And many, many pieces of driftwood. There’s even an entire wing of a wild turkey. The tail feathers of a red-tailed hawk. And the skull of a deer that I just happened to come across one day.

These “things” are, in my opinion, magical. Each holding the vibration of where it came from, each imbuing my space with its particular and unique frequency reminding me in every moment that my Home is not this house but instead this incredible Planet.

These are the things that ground me. That remind me of the beauty to be found in every detail of Life. That keep me rooted in my belief that this truly is a magical place and a magical time to be Human.

And when I am feeling down or lonely, I simply need to pick up a rock. Or crystal. Or feather. And I am flooded with memories: Where I was when I found it (or, more aptly, when it found me). Who I was with. What I was feeling. What I was thinking. And the sheer delight at having discovered the Gift that now lay in my hand.

These are the things, Dear Reader, that keep me in check. Keep me balanced. Keep me whole. Pieces of Life to be remembered and celebrated and cherished.

So yes: Rocks. I love rocks. And now my secret is out.

But what about you, Dear Reader? What would I see if I were to come to your home? What graces your hearth and fills your heart with gladness?

I would surely love to know.

Yours in curiosity,

Rebecca Liston is cofounder and business intuitive at Las Peregrinas, a creative and consulting agency. She specializes in anchoring folks in a clear-eyed understanding of which path is theirs for the taking. She’s got one foot in the land of the subtle and unseen, and the other foot firmly planted in the land of ruthless pragmatism. Oh, and she swears like a sailor, which makes us love her more.

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