Rock my Memories

I am a person always in awe with just about anything when I'm in a new place. I look at how blue are the skies, the busyness of the crowd, the smell of the food, the noise of traffic, the murmur of the sea - I sometimes have to close my eyes to remember.

For me, there's always a story behind every travel, every work, every meeting. It's too hard to remember everything - but in some of journeys, there are memories, I want to remember. 
These are some of the rocks I myself picked up.

The rock  from Pyramid, one of my favorites. 



















Come to think of it the photos we took help us to remember but personally, I think when I hold the rock or pebble I got from the roadside, or beach front or just randomly picking a pebble when I want to remember vividly the place I'd been - when I want to touch it and feel it once more and think about the memories that go with the rock - the feel and the touch holds whatever my heart cannot speak.

Is there an energy in every stone, or rock or pebble? My husband just laughed at the thought. I also have several crystal quartz and other precious gems handed down to me by my mother who's into this esoteric and mystical stuff.

The rock from Egypt seems to have a lot of energy.
Is life is like the rocks I picked up along the way, during the course of my travel. Some rocks are smooth, some are rough, some have weird shapes, heart-shaped, some are sharp - Isn't life like the rocks I chose? 

I really don't know the purpose of this, I mean, I just started getting rocks and pebble out of the blue. Maybe these are pieces of hard notes - appreciating  the beauty of nature, getting a piece of it and bringing it with me. Call it a sentimental souvenir.

This might be a hobby, some randomly picked rock or pebble out from a place that must have been special to me, some place I know which someday might bring back beautiful or sad memories... all kept in a fish bowl, etched with date and place to remember that once I was there...
Picking a rock is like picking your choice in life...you got some smooth ones, but once in your many destinations, you picked some rough ones...





A bowl of remembrance...

These are friends who travelled far. Instead of the usual keychain or common souvenirs, I've asked for these instead.

Are my children going to keep these when I'm gone?

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Poisoned with Love | Poison Cauldron Library Cafe in Daraga, Albay

The Raya School Naga's Pagtatapos 2016

Learning to breathe again