An explanation and invitation from Fiona and Kaspalita:
What are small stones?
A small stone is a short piece of writing (prose or poetry) that precisely captures a fully-engaged moment. The process of finding small stones is as important as the finished product – searching for them will encourage you to keep your eyes (and ears, nose, mouth, fingers, feelings and mind) open.
Read more about small stones here, and read many examples of small stones at my blogzine, a handful of stones. Read Fiona's free ebook about Lorrie with pea-green eyes.
A small stone is a short piece of writing (prose or poetry) that precisely captures a fully-engaged moment. The process of finding small stones is as important as the finished product – searching for them will encourage you to keep your eyes (and ears, nose, mouth, fingers, feelings and mind) open.
Read more about small stones here, and read many examples of small stones at my blogzine, a handful of stones. Read Fiona's free ebook about Lorrie with pea-green eyes.
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and some more that tumbled about longing to be noticed...
1. The brilliance of sun
across sheets after a day of rain gray skies awakens gratitude.
2. Right foot burns, yet
is cool to the touch, lips and tongue cannot coordinate to form words properly;
neurons befuddled, mind oh so clear.
3. I watch her wooly chest
as it rises and falls in medicated sleep; silvered chocolate curls cut short,
into rivulets of fur. Poor pup, in need of surgery today.
4. Inhaling the scent of
fresh basil on my hand (having torn the leaves for our marinara), I listen to
the first mourning dove; home from her winter wanderings.
5. I watch as he lifts her
with such tenderness from her little bed. My heart breaks for the love of man
for dog as his soothing voice, gossamer, whispered ribbons, trails down the
steps with her in his arms.
6. I wait in the light of
my computer screen, for my daughter to arrive, hands glowing in the darkened
room. My body is ready for sleep, but my heart simply will not allow it, not
until I hold her in my arms and welcome her home. The digital numbers on the
bedside clock shift too slowly.
7. Sun streams through the
bedroom window, shower steams the bath on the other side of the door, birds
trilling morning songs beyond my window, my belly comfortably satiated from
breakfast; ahhh, gratitude for this moment infuses my whole being.
8. The unique trill of
each bird’s morning song resonates, vibrates and harmonizes with the sound of
my breath and the beating of my own contented heart.
9. As my tea touches my
lips, I realize they are the same temperature. How long has the cup been
sitting while my mind was occupied with writing?
10. Dripping, drumming,
thrumming, on the roof, against windows, not so random rain-notes harmonize
with my own breath. This song of the earth rises up-- a crescendo, a wave of
sound infused with emotion that cannot be sustained forever. I sigh. Relief.
Silence slowly fills my ears again.
11. The smallest act of
kindness reminds me that gravity exists, and even more to the point that there
is a wise and loving force flowing through the universe, holding everything in
alignment, exactly as it is meant to be, releasing me from a chaotic whirling
mind state, cradling me in calm centered gratitude.
12. It is often the
simplest things we notice; new leaves like bat wings freed, silhouetted against
the sky in a pattern that will last no longer than a single day, that remind us
how tenuous and precious each moment is.
13. The emerald hue of
rain drenched leaves and grass is brilliant beneath the weight of gray skies.
Life is flowing and growing, and I'm so grateful to have eyesight with which to
witness the landscape and a nose that capable of inhaling the perfume of
blossoms doused in heavens tears.
14. At 5 AM, the woods
were shrouded with a thick blanket of fog; an apt reminder that we can only
see-feel where we are standing right now, beyond this lays mystery. Taking the
next step is a matter of faith. Faith that after lifting one foot, there will
be stability when it meets the earth next to the other foot, and if not,
trusting that we will gradually discover a way to find balance again soon.
15. The heat rose from the
pavement in waves around my wheelchair as we got out of the car on an errand.
Temperatures above 80 interfere with my motor functioning, making it nearly
impossible to express myself with intelligible words until my body cools down,
yet my joy for the shimmer of sun is clear to anyone looking at my smile.
16. The rhythmic chirping
is metronome perfect, as that chipmunk announces dawn and warns of dusk.
17. Sunlight slips across
my lap, air conditioner hisses, drowning out birdsong, keeping my core
temperature cool, offering invisible protection with a wall of diffused
“silence” so I can contemplate and write.
18. I woke to a single
bird’s song rising above the early morning thunder.
19. 613-not only today’s
date—that is how many people viewed my blog today and the same number as there
are mitzvot in the Torah; I feel blessed knowing that my words and images have
reached that many hearts of other human beings in a single day.
20. Who knew my chariot
had magical powers….not only can it get me where I need to go gliding smoothly
like Aladin’s carpet, but it can make me disappear. I hope this does not sound
bitter; this was simply my experience. I felt strangely invisible as parents of
kids I’ve known since my daughter was in kindergarten walked right past without
saying hello during the award ceremony. Perhaps it was because they were
focused on their kids, or because I’ve not been able to be involved in
volunteering for such a long time, or because I was below their line of vision,
seated in my wheelchair. But I remembered all of them and watched them chat
with one another…it is interesting to simply observe without the burden of
small talk.
21. Listening to the
rhythmic sound of my cat “nursing” on our standard poodle’s paw, while the dog
grooms her other foot; such affection between two adopted animal siblings, one
8lbs, the other 50lbs, opens the heart to hope for humans to love one another
with more ease and acceptance of differences.
22. I watch the light
softening the sky to a pale lilac-blue, every tree and boulder rosy as the sun
makes her descent. Spring bids us farewell, a new summer to be born tomorrow.
23. Perhaps it is the
density of clouds, the chill, (55F even though it is officially
midsummer). I feel small, thin, translucent, as though I might soon be
swallowed into the gray along with the vapor that has not yet been released
into seemingly pointless drops and puddles, just sitting there upon the surface
of fully saturated earth breeding mosquitoes. I hold a warm cup of tea in my
hands and wonder when the sun will return, balance restored.
24. Silver sparkles;
droplets of rain adorn oak leaves, a small miracle lifting my spirits in
gratitude this morning.
25. I sit observing the
statue-still cat’s face reflected in the glass of the sliding door, as she is
intent on watching every motion of a chipmunk on the other side. Cat TV.
