Heavy Stuff

I purchased a few stones from a man on the street. A large piece of obsidian in the shape of an egg. A perfect sphere of eagles eye, dark with lighter stripes, a miniature mimic of planet Pluto. And a pointed purple crystal of amethyst. Beautiful. With my pocketful of minerals I walked down to the lakefront, to my special spot. I come here every day to sit.

First I admire the splendor of my surroundings. Volcano San Pedro and some other big guys dominate the background. Chillin like a bunch of Buddhas, halos made of cloud. Señor Sun has already fallen behind the mountains, almost ready for bed. His gentle rays illuminate the clouds bellies a soft shade of pink, setting the stage for La Luna. Twilight plays on the waves, laughing on the shore. I close my eyes and drift into the sound. Worn out worries wash away. I take a deep breath, let it out slowly, and relax...

I hold that thought while I reach over to pick up the egg of obsidian. My right hand spoons my left and the stone curls up inside. I focus my attention toward my hands. Rudely, and without warning, the earth beneath me lost it's footing and splashes into the water, eight feet below.

Gracelessly, I tumble in after it.

There is a general consensus that obsidian has a heavy, grounding energy. It encourages a down to Earth attitude and a steadfast grasp on reality, helping us to find our place in the material world by manifesting energy with a downward current. I've been considering the possibility of this rock teaching me a lesson, or at least trying to tell me something:
"Inspect the foundation before sitting on top",
"Perhaps you should take it easy on the ice cream", or,
"it's about time you take a bath."

Maybe it's coincidental, but I lost my other two stones in the lake, so I wonder if it's best for me to work only with the obsidian. The concepts of stability and grounding may be very important for me to integrate into my transient lifestyle.

So I'm floating on, a one stone man, in search of meaning and the hidden messages behind experience. Attempting to weigh myself down with wisdom.