The Stone

The Stone


Not too long ago, there was a man with a very important mission. The mission, given to him by his grandmother, was to take her special stone and drop it at the deepest spot in her favorite pond. So every day he would drive to the pond, get into a small boat, and circle the pond looking for the very best spot.

Every so often, he’d stop, look over the edge, wonder if this would be deep enough, and then drop the rock over the side. He would watch the stone fall down thru the water, until it reached the bottom. Still within sight, he would look at it briefly, and then paddle away. But the next morning when he woke, he would feel panic thru his soul for fear that there may be a better spot, a deeper place. He’d race down to the dock, jump into the boat, go to the spot that he had dropped the rock the day before, and dive to the bottom to fetch it.

The next day, he would return to the pond and repeat the same task of finding a new spot, and dropping the stone. Then the following day, in a state of panic and uncertainty, he would retrieve the rock. Day after day, week after week, the cycle repeated itself.

After many attempts, he began to wonder what he was doing wrong. Why couldn’t he just find a spot that suited him? Why did he always feel the need to return to the spot and remove the stone? Was there no perfect spot, or was he searching too hard?

When his grandmother passed, and asked him to do this for her, he never really understood why. He had no answer for why someone would be so concerned with the placement of an object that possessed no real value. But he loved his grandmother, and this was important to her, and so in turn it was important to him. So he continued to try his best to grant the wish; always searching, never satisfied.

Many years later, he found himself in the same pattern. Dropping the stone, leaving it for a while, and then returning to get it back. So over and over, time and time again, each time taking him further and further away from his ultimate goal and her dying wish. Try as he did, he couldn’t break the pattern. He feared that he would spend the rest of his days dropping the stone, and then taking it right back.

Finally, one day as he sat in the boat with his face buried in his palms, he found himself frustrated with himself and losing patience. He sat there ready to give up. He had covered nearly the whole pond and could not find a spot he felt right about. He knew there couldn’t be many more places in this pond to leave her stone, at least none that were still shallow enough that he could see the stone at the bottom, or where he could still get it back if he needed it, and then it hit him !! That was the point. She had wanted the stone somewhere deep, out of reach. It wasn’t about placing an inanimate object; it was about letting something go and having faith that it was okay even thought it could not be seen. Giving something special away in a manner that there was no taking it back. The same way she loved his grandfather for 63 years, in a way that she never planned on taking it back; the way she wanted her grandson to feel love.

His grandmother, even after leaving this earth, found a way to teach him a lesson. The lesson, although having many different interpretations, was meant for him to understand love. Jay knew that he lived his whole life this way. Love was the stone he could never fully let go of. He could never drop it too far out of reach, and certainly not deep enough for it to be out of sight. And when you can’t fully let go, you can’t really be where you need to be.

Sometimes you have to trust in yourself, and in others by letting go and risking everything. Sometimes you have to take a chance on someone, “on some location,” and you have to drop that stone to the very bottom. You have to love like it’s the last time. You have to love like your not going to get it back, because if you don’t, your only loving halfway, and that’s no way to love at all.

So he took his face away from his hands, put a smile on his face, and paddled to the center of the pond. He looked to the sky and with a quit thank you to his grandmother, he tossed that rock over his shoulder, not looking where it went, because it didn’t matter, he just trusted. And then he paddled back to shore, never to return to the pond again. Instead, he searched for new ways give himself fully, to people he didn’t know, and some he knew for lifetimes. And he learned that giving without expecting it back, was the best way to give.

I encourage you to find your pond, grasp your stone, throw it over your shoulder and love like you’re not going to get it back !!!!



JKD
8/29/04