The other day I left my busy life, my distracted mind and my comfortable home to walk in the mountains. Stepping off the path and onto the undisturbed, soft bed of fallen winter grass I felt the breathing of this beautiful earth. My wandering took me through the meadow and into the trees, where the occasional click-clack of a falling pinecone stole my attention away from the ground beneath.
When I am out in the hills I feel my deep and present love affair with the earth. She calls me into a spaciousness of being in a gentle and commanding way. I watch myself being taken in by the loving trance of her beauty. My persistent footfalls slowly open to the blessing of the earth receiving each step I take, guiding me more deeply into her embrace.
I try and remember all of this when I work with stone. It is how I earn my living but it is not separate from my heart. The gift of stone is the gift of the body of the earth. She gives freely and willingly, but not without responsibility. With respect, acknowledgment, love, and trust, she will open her body in ways that will take you more deeply into the mystery of who you are. When I allow the sanctity of this relationship to permeate my being, she is there with me, in my heart. I feel her when I swing my hammer, when I hear the visceral ripping sound of a stone being split apart, and when I find two stones that come together as two lovers do.
All of this goes on in the background of my busy life, my distracted mind, and my comfortable home. Through the din of living, I hear her calling me to come to my senses, to feel her in my bones. She has given birth to me and I will go back to her when my body is done with this life. Now, she holds me, if I let her, and shares her secrets with me.
