Birthdays Rock
it’s the thought that counts
Your birthday was this week, and though we’re not gift-giving close, I wanted to get you something, specifically, a really cool rock because a lot of rocks aren’t expensive, and everyone needs a lucky rock to keep in their pocket, one that nestles perfectly in the hand with a smooth surface to rub with a thumb when shit gets too real.
The shape and feel of the rock are the most important qualities, but color and striation, crystallization and mineral content aren’t unimportant. So I went to my rock store yesterday to pick up some incense and find an inexpensive rock for you.
I chose Indian Miracle incense cones for myself—who can’t use a miracle in their life? Then I went over to the bins of raw stones. Like me, you can tolerate some roughness, might find a polished stone too . . . polished. And there’s something about those raw stones, their mineral content, the different textures on every facet of an unfaceted stone bring a raw energy and joy that gets buffed out during the polishing.
On the drive over, I was thinking green for you, even though blue seems more logical. I have trouble parting with blue rocks, so green made sense. Lo and behold, a bin of gorgeous raw moss agate. The second one I picked up was perfect, with a smooth tapering surface for your thumb and a shape that was made to nestle into a palm and fingers.
It was only two dollars, so I bought it and brought it home with me, brought it into my bath with all of my rocks, put it in the tub while I ran the water, then found a spot for it beside some lapis, moonstone, and amethyst. It’s a beautiful rock. I held it in my right hand while I decompressed in the water, fragrant with helichrysum and cedar, burning a miracle cone in the little pyramid incense burner while my ceiling projector, moon lamps, candles, rocks, gods, goddesses, and fairies kept watch over me. I struck my Tibetan healing bowls with their wooden mallets and listened to cello music. I was at peace.
But here’s the thing—I’m keeping this rock that I bought for your birthday; something in me can’t let go of it. If you want, next time I see you, I’ll bring your rock with me. I may even let you hold it.
Happy birthday.
About the Creator
Harper Lewis
I'm a weirdo nerd who’s extremely subversive. I like rocks, incense, and all kinds of witchy stuff. Intrusive rhyme bothers me.
I’m known as Dena Brown to the revenuers and pollsters.
MA English literature, College of Charleston
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Comments (4)
Thank you for sharing your process in selecting a birthday rock and what goes through your mind in the process
That is a beautiful rock, I understand you wanting to keep that one. I find once something comes into your routine, it is hard to let go. Though, it sounds like this rock was meant to be yours from the beginning.
A beautifully intimate and sensory piece—simple, touching, and quietly magical.
An interesting concept and love the look of the rock too. Great story