Like a Rock

Nobody I know can cling to a stone tighter than I can. No one I know can hold their breath underwater for a longer period of time. I am an exceptional athlete when it comes to these things. I avoid all instincts and silence the voices of doubt. I accept pain and punishment. I can carry a load of burden that would defy all expectation. My passion is strong. The winner will take it all. Only in the end I realize the game that was played was me and to the victor the spoils.

I have grabbed on to many stones in my life. I have tried all kinds, perfecting my skill.

I was young and inexperienced when I grabbed on to the first one. It was particularly heavy with its own weight. I did not choose this stone. It chose me. Seeing the lightness of my step, the slightly tarnished soul, and the naivete to believe that all was possible. Disney tales don't lie do they? I grabbed that stone and held tight as if all my love could save it from the current. But the current was strong. The current was magnetic. I did not see the bottom but I lost my stone to a journey I could not follow.

For awhile, I was contented to look at all the other rocks in my path. Some had rough edges. Some were bright and I could see the sun in their gleam. Some looked sturdy and steadfast. That rock by the river shall not be moved. By itself. but you have to be careful and you have to watch out. Because some of those stones have planted themselves in the sand, slippery rotted leaves, and their foundations eroded by the river. You can sun yourself on these rocks, feeling warm and contented.....but one day they can give way. And you best not be caught up in your contentment because due to their own girth you are in for a deep and fast plunge that is suprising even for a rock. As try to grab hold somes you find yourself on the wrong side. Grasping at the underbelly of the rock that was buried in the muck, cleverly concealed for God knows how long. It was certainly there before you arrived. It breaks off in your hand. Pieces pelting your face. And you get mad. And you get angry at the rock....though it was you who was to blame for not checking everything out before you picked it. But you let it go because you cannot breathe and you are getting to the bottom of the river again.

As you make your way back to the bank, you realize you are cold and slimy for all your efforts. The decision to try a different shore is made. You find a even bigger more sturdy looking rock. This one is not going anywhere. There are so many nooks and crannies to explore. It will keep you busy for years. So busy you are looking at the structure of the rock, that you neglect to notice the sea of discontent storming all around it. Though you have the power to weather the storms, the rock believes the siren songs of another possibility...and you are swept out to sea like a tangled clump of seaweed. Sometimes when you sit on the shore you hear noises come from the rock, but you now know what sirens can do. Best to avoid calls like these.

Sometimes when you are sitting on the shore, trying to make sense out of your tangles of your life you notice a pretty stone. And if it is not the brightest shiniest thing you ever saw. You want to touch it. You want to put it in your pocket. But you know better. So you avoid it. But the more you avoid it, the harder it works to blind your eyes to the fact that you cannot have it forever despite the promises and the possibilities. You think to yourself what it put it on a chain and tie it around my neck. I have played with rocks before I know what I am doing. If I swim my strongest swim, if I adjust to the rock's weight, if I give it my all then that will prove that I am deserving of it. But sometimes the stone is just so pretty and brilliant. Gleams in the sun. You won't be the only one to notice. And someone will snatch it from around your neck. It will call to you but it doesn't put up a fight. You are in the middle of the ocean and all your efforts were put into the care and keeping of that shiny, perfect rock.....that you forgot how to swim. And you sink, and you sink, and you sink. You have swum before and you can do it again....but you choose not to. And you sink to the bottom and just lie there. Because your heart is as heavy as all the rocks in you life.

But then something amazing happens. You are thrown back on the shore and everything begins to fall away. The scars are still there but they are softened by your time in the depths. And you hear a voice. It is soft at first but it gets louder. Then you realize it is your voice and it is screaming. And you realize.....if it is your voice and it is screaming....then it must be you and you must be alive. So you keep screaming because as long as you scream you are living. And you don't care who hears. You grab rocks and stones by the handfuls and throw them all away from you until you are tired and the only rock you are left with is that little smooth pebble that is in your heart. Smooth because the beating of your heart and the coursing of your blood and the force of your will -- they smooth the rough edges. The bumps, lumps, crags, projections are still there but they are dulled. And this time the only stones you carry are yours.