I've got a little pile of rocks on my desk. It's not as weird as it sounds. They're small, smooth stones I've picked up during vacations to various beaches. It's a habit I picked up from my mom, who always took home some piece of the beach that she could hold when she returned to her life in a landlocked state.
For me, the six stones are a reminder of things that are bigger than whatever daily stress is eating away at my psyche. A reminder that, despite the chaos and trauma in this life, in this world, at this moment, it is all still ephemeral. The rocks stay. Then the rough edges smooth over time and ultimately they dissolve into sediment and blow away into the air or get swept away by the water.
