~ Teilhard de Chardin
There are a couple of things I find agreeable about Facebook: connecting with kindred souls and the delicious stories of synchronicity that come out of our sharing. Both of these types of communication happened just the other day on my friend R’s Facebook page. Before I tell the story of the exchange that occurred, I must add that R and those who took part in the discussion on her ‘thread’ are, like me, believers that the universe and everything in it is alive with consciousness. Because of this, we are constantly being guided along our paths, especially, when the messages we receive are paid attention to and reflected on over time.
In the interest of brevity, the conversation from R's Facebook page that I’m sharing below has been shortened with much of it excluded. This in no way discounts all the sage advice and heartfelt sharing by everyone who actually commented on the thread:
R began the post: “Making peace with all that is today...again, some of you may recall that last summer I lost my only crystal...an Amethyst shaped like an athame'...and it was when the green Moth landed on it that I found the stone. Two days ago while meditating, I had a vision of my amethyst [necklace] shrinking in its silver cage. After coming inside and looking in the mirror the crystal was gone...I’ve cried and feel as if a part of me is missing, as I’ve been wearing and using this piece for ~20 years. It has my energy imbedded within it. Where did it go? Did it actually transmute? And why? Rhetorical, really. I need to stop now and accept that it’s gone...I mean isn’t this just another lesson about letting go? But I keep asking myself why this one crystal? Out of any of mine, I could care less, save this one. It feels like I’m missing a part of myself. I should let it go or trust it will return. But not hang on to it or anything...this is destructive and negative. But isn’t it good to let my emotions out...to process the loss? I cave, and I give in. I surrender it all to Spirit...”
CV commented: With the hand open wide, enjoy that which floats in and sits upon it and with gratitude enjoy its presence and when it floats away, only know another opportunity is now held in the very hand that still remains wide open.
JT commented, sharing a remarkable synchronicity: “I don't know jack about crystals, or have too much sentiment for objects in general, but I own a Buck #104 hunting knife that I bought with money from a paper route when I was 10 or so. It was a prized possession and was a constant companion for work and play. At some point in my late teens, I misplaced it, and I was disappointed. Some 15 years later while searching a junkyard for parts for my ford truck, this black leather sheath fell from beneath the rotted seat of a completely stripped chassis. It contained a knife—a buck #104, in fact. All at once I remembered stripping wires while working on my older brothers 72 Ford F-250 years prior, as he was preparing to sell it. That was the last I saw it. This was my brother’s truck and my Knife!! Now reunited, it currently slices apples and peels oranges at lunchtime while I’m on the job. You never know what can happen, so don't project the loss into the future.”
J commented: Big hugs to you, R. About 10 years ago I had a gem stone necklace (a string of beautiful stones) with a perfect amethyst crystal suspended within a gemstone circle as the centerpiece. It was an original, made by an Indian woman in Michigan...One of a kind. I loved that necklace and put much of my energy into it, too. I was house sitting for a friend one year, went away for the week-end, and when I returned, it was gone. Its disappearance caused me much pain until I came to the decision, like you, that it was a lesson in letting go. I figured that for whatever reason someone needed it more than I did at that time. It still hurt, though.
CV commented: “Whenever I have been confronted with losing an item, and I have sunk low regarding its loss...in that feeling like a prized possession was stolen, taken, misplaced, or just no longer mine...I felt worse. [...] I have found that when you get open, as J perfectly illustrated above, that suddenly, there is 'purpose' in the beloved piece moving onto another and then instead of feeling loss, you feel quite well and relaxed again in a state versus suffering […] So maybe, each thief was a saint in disguise for me [...] in whom I needed to become.
R responded to all: “You all are beautiful...thank you...I knew by sharing this I’d feel so much better...and I do. I love you all […] And, C—what irony—in meditation, I had a vision of it literally shrinking and gone. There must be a purpose in all of this. I’m so glad you all shared your stories with me...”
May all our stories be so spirit-charged and helpful to others and ourselves in our quest for meaning in our lives.