Stones

[Guest guest]

>From the web. My acknowledgement and thanks to the unknown author.

 

Jai Maa

 

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Somewhere along the line, most of you have probably seen one of

those ingenious stone tumbling machines at work. I hope you have --

they're incredible.

 

Pebbles of all sizes and shapes are placed inside a simple

container; next you turn on a switch and the container begins

rocking back and forth in a slow circular motion, forcing the stones

to be shuffled one against another over and over and over again.

There is a soft monotonous chatter going on as this happens; the

stones appear to abrade and jostle each other with easy abandon.

 

This intimate dance of stones continues all day, all night, all

week, all month, all year. That's how long it takes for the

abrading, the rubbing, the tumbling to do its magic. If you were to

stand urgently by the machine for a weekend and wait for a quick

result you would be deeply disappointed: one weekend is a mere blink

in the polishing process. This is a long, long trip the stones are

taking; it requires your most profound patience and respect. And if

you are able to endure the passage of time without wincing, if you

are able to listen to the low, ceaseless murmur of dancing pebbles,

if you are able to relax and let the gleaming unfold in its own slow

inexorable way, in the end you find yourself the recipient of an

amazing gift.

 

And I mean amazing. After endless months of non-stop, shoulder-to-

shoulder roughhousing and cavorting, you approach the machine, turn

off the motor, place a few stones in your hand.

 

And what have you got? Open the fingers. There they are.

 

Gems. With rough edges, barbs, and dullness gone forever, here is

what remains: essence of Stone. Deeply burnished, glistening like

fire, impossibly flawless stones are now warming the skin of your

palm. You can't bear to put them down: they are too sleek and

beautiful.

 

And you stand there stunned, because no matter how much beauty

you've seen before, you simply can't get over this one single

miracle. Before they were simply ordinary stones; now they are

priceless. So the next time you tumble against a cloudy day, an edgy

friend, a staggering debt, a hot dry patch of insult, or a wild

burst of illness, remember the stones. Tell yourself: I will

surrender to this tumbling and polishing and rest myself in the One

Who controls the switch.

 

Because I am being polished. I am being shaved of self. I am being

reduced to essence. I am being made a pure stone in the hand of God.

 

 

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