What are small stones?

What are Small Stones?

Small stones are an observed moment,
written down. My small stones were initially inspired by the River of Stones
project each January, which sees hundreds of people observing a moment or
experience in their day and writing it down for the month. They can then be
shared on blogs, Facebook, Twitter or just written in a notebook, on a pebble,
the loo roll... To find out more about the flow of this simple movement to bring
more presence and awareness into our lives, check out the following link:
http://www.writingourwayhome.com/p/small-stones.html



Tuesday, January 31, 2012

The river is flowing!

Opening up the old tin of seeds,
an allotment full of food and flowers
in the palms of my hands.
Even with the ground so hard, the air so cold,
Spring is coming, Spring is coming!
Feeling for what is yet to grow in me
out of the darkness.

It's the last day of the January 2012 small stone writing challenge!!!

I'm tempted to keep going, but know also that it'll be a bit of a relief to not be holding that commitment. I do fully intend to keep on observing the moments, to paying attention, to becoming more aware of eking out the treasures, however rusty or gilded, or just plain 'ordinary' in whatever is occurring (or not!).  Sometimes I'll write them down and share them here. Other times I'll let them just flow on, experienced and then released.

I feel huge gratitude towards Fiona Robyn and Kaspalita who created and continue to nurture the river of stones project.

This is also the time of Imbolc, the ancient pagan festival which marks the end of Winter and coming of Spring. It's a time of gestation, when many of the seeds are still beneath the surface of the earth but moving forwards in their journey towards life in the light and new growth. When I was pregnant eleven years ago I remember at Imbolc, I felt so connected to the Earth as 'mother', sharing that same anticipation of birth. Holding a seed of life in the nourishing darkness, full of excitement and dreams of what was to come. I was living in Penzance, got the bus to Madron and walked across the fields to the path leading to the holy well and the spring in the old ruined chapel. I sat by the spring, just listening to the gently falling water, hands cradling my belly and just being there, fully immersed in the moment. A moment which will always stay with me as a precious memory.

Another time during that same week I remember happily dancing around my lounge singing along loudly with a favourite Native American chant. It seems a fitting one to share here, at the end of the river of stones.... a river that I'm sure will continue to flow and to grow!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sB2AaVVjF-0&feature=related

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