sabbatical in place: washing stones, plus photos from a sunny day
this morning we were blessed with time and sun. i knelt down on the banig my paternal grandmother gave me, to wash some stones in salt water and lavender buds and leave them out to dry with me in the light. i smoothed the cracks in the stones with my hands and small rags cut from my dad's old t-shirts and dyed pink with avocado skins gifted from friends.
as i wiped over the salt stones i noticed all the rough places where the salt had absorbed water particles, swollen and melted over a span of years. i wiped off the small dark debris stuck to the surface. i thought about how we humxns are so akin to these salt stones, carrying old attachments and debris in our bodyminds for so long that they filter what is able to be exchanged; and how we too must be cleansed with salt water and bathed in sun. i held in my heart the words from a poem by lyla june, "In the language of the stones there is/ no word for mistake./ Only the complete/ understanding of what it/ means to be a beloved son or daughter./ I am the rock/ and God is the water."
in the presence of my maternal ancestors' spirits, with the tools gifted by patrilineal family and chosen kin, under a mentor sun supporting me being seen, among the birds and flies i breathed and did not feel alone. i spoke the affirmations: i am not alone, i am wanted, i am loved, i am protected. what a beautiful thing to live and be connected. i thanked my parents for creating me. i thanked the earth for feeding me. tears slid down and with the same hands that washed these stones i smoothed the salt water of my body from my face.
may we all clear the clutter and debris of old attachments. may this open us to experience more pleasure, wonder, curiosity and love. may we connect with our most resourced selves and communities as we work to heal our lineages and younger selves. may we take each step with gratitude.