Stones As Teachers
Stones as Teachers
Pythagoras, a Greek philosopher and mathematician, believed that stones were frozen music. I have never heard a stone’s song, but I have learned valuable lessons from rocks.
Sculpting and healing belong together for me like an engagement ring and a wedding ring. I was called to sculpting two decades ago when my friend Sarah submitted her fragile body to chemotherapy. I was determined to give her something she could hold in her hands during her radiation treatments. The idea of making something from stones popped into my mind and I was startled.
When I picked up my first piece of white alabaster stone, I stared at the two-pound rock and started to hyperventilate! I was flooded by every negative statement that I had swallowed since childhood about my inability to make art. Then I cried. Without warning I sensed a strong current of energy that seemed to emanate from the stone. I responded to the loud negative voices inside my head and the inviting energy from the stone, by shrieking, “I must make something healing for Sarah to hold.” Then I sensed the stone saying, “Yes.” My creative and healing relationship with stone began
I wish I could write that sculpting was easy. I can’t. I wish I could say that I was overwhelmed with flowing grace from the stone. I can’t. I wish I could brag that I never again doubted that I was creative. I can’t. Looking back, all I know is that I was passionate about making an object that Sarah could hold in her hands to remind her that she was whole in spite of the potential danger and good of chemotherapy.
Five days later I gave Sarah a small polished figure of a woman in the child’s yoga position. She smiled, unable to speak because of the ventilator in her mouth. Then she caressed the figure and turned her over and over. She smiled, nodded her head and then we both cried.
Almost three decades later I continue to be a student of stone and healing. Even now before I pick up a diamond-studded file, I hold the stone. Then I lift it close to my ear in case this is the one I will hear sing. Next I turn the stone over and over studying the texture, the angles, and the way light enters. If the stone is not too big, I put it under my pillow and dream with it.
Before I make my first cut in the stone, I am deeply aware that my first gesture will change the stone’s structure. I hold my breath when I file the first time. I feel as if I understand that a transformation is in process and destiny waits. Then I breathe and listen and watch for a response from the stone. Once again I look at the stone from all angles hoping that the stone will call me into a collaborative relationship. Often I file too softly at first. I am cautious and I don’t want to make a mistake. Then the stone calls me to file deeper. Surrender is part of my creative process. I let go of the first few forms that I imagine the stone can become in favor of being curious. Then I stand back and gaze again at the emergent form and remind myself that each time I let go of a familiar perspective, I create space that allows other forms to arise.
Stone teaches me about persistence and vulnerability. When I become frustrated because I am unable to see or do what seems to be the next step sometimes I walk away. Then the familiar refrains return: I am not good enough, smart enough, creative enough committed enough, and I feel my vulnerability. Eventually, I befriend myself and return to the stone with more patience and a degree of self compassion.
Last week I ordered a 50-pound wedge of peach alabaster. I am ready to sculpt big. When it arrived, I placed it on my bedroom bureau. It is the last thing I say good night to and the first thing I say good Morning to. This morning I stopped and tapped its side and then bent down and licked the orange top. I have no words to explain why. At this point in our relationship, I have no clue what this stone will teach me as I work with it. I do know that I am ready to enter the mystery. Perhaps this stone is the one who will introduce me to music if I listen closely. Perhaps I am the one to sing this stone teacher awake.
Beautiful. I was with you every step of the way.