Metaphysical Ruminations*

There was once a stone. A stone, like many other stones, like any other stone. Like all stones, she decided what stone she’d like to be. Yes, stones do. Some on purpose, some because they’re too lazy to move their asses from where they fell, and some because they’re scared to.

So, she decided what kind of stone she was going to be, and went and stood under some dripping water. Because that was the kind of stone she wanted to be, see? She wanted to break the fall of those little drips, before they hit the hard ground with a big thud that would change them forever.

She knew, of course, that in the centre of her, in what people would call her heart, there was a little hollow with water in it, water she was protecting with all of the rest of her.

She knew, of course, that those little drips were changing her, too – that was why she was there, wasn’t it?

But what does it do to her to stand there and know that every time a little drip hit her, it was going “Ouch! Bloody hell!”? Is it enough that when some of the little drips finally hit the hard ground with a big thud that changed them forever, they go “Thank God we’ve gotten used to this”, and that some even yell out “Thanks, stone, for showing us what we’re up for!”?

She wonders, sometimes, what happens to the little drips; some so bright, with the sunlight sparkling on them, some steady on a course that seems like it would lead to the great big ocean. Some that make little splashy sounds of fun at her, some that go by quietly. Do they know that she wonders about them? Does the wondering change her, day by day?

Drip, drip, drip. With each drip they come closer to what she hides in her heart; to the water that is of them, by them, for them. What when they wear her through to it?

*Inspired by a long bout of work I didn’t want to do – don’t blame me!


2 Responses

  1. Objectifying thyself?

  2. And a bunch of other people, by the look of it!

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