Crystals. Stones. Rocks.
Meaningless shards of woo-woo nonsense. Divine healing tools. Symmetrically perfect atoms. The oldest objects on the planet.
Crystals are polarizing. Many New-Ager’s live by, die for, swear on crystals. We clean them under the light of the full moon, take our time smudging them with sage (or if you’re like me, dousing them with Agua de Florida), and ask them to protect us in toxic offices or on long travels.
In the context of this reality, and with a meme-driven mind: I have enough crystals, said no one ever.
Many others see crystals as the most illogical of all the dubious woo-woo distractions. That’s probably fair enough, as it’s a pretty hefty concept to contend that infinite wisdom resides within pretty colored rocks you generally buy at burn-out hippie shops that reek of Nag Champa and stale hemp.
As a general trend, an increasing number of us have been very privileged to be able to focus our energies on the transformation of self. The best of all possible #goals, personal betterment has become not only palatable but the ultimate aspiration, which is reflected back to us through the din of social media: whether you’re following an IG celebrity or an old friend from high school you cannot help but come across the occasionally shared post about a stressful full moon, mercury in retrograde hassles or the necessity of meditation. Nowadays you can tweet about politics and then post a pic of your new Tarot deck.
This is the new world we inhabit. It’s the true culmination of Maslow’s Pyramid of Needs: faced with abundance externally, we’re starting to wonder what we can manage to affect internally. We may judge it or think it’s self-indulgent navel-gazing, but still, we nod with enthusiasm when a friend signs up to a mindfulness class and ‘like’ when another friend shares a Ted Talk video on Facebook. We revel in seeing others jump on the path towards healing.
Crystals are a different sphere entirely (no pun intended). Our level of acceptance waivers if we are caught, or catch another, white-knuckling a crystal. It’s an internal division, an inner chafing of belief systems. We believe in the woo-woo and then again we don’t, the same way we buy the crystal with “deep intention” and then look at it sideways later, thinking “Who have I become?” It’s a bit Tom Hanks v. Wilson. Stranded on the beaches of temporary insanity, we turn to our crystal friends for conversation, for encouragement. But we’re not necessarily asking for an audience while we consult with our stone oracles.
If you’ve found this page, I’m going to take it for granted that you are at least interested in the topic, if not a believer. I’m not going to try to sell you on the rapture of the crystalline realms, just open up the conversation with a few my own experiences. It’s my personal opinion that crystals are living, pulsating mineral beings with a soul. I also believe they’re here to assist us on our healing journeys, and that as the oldest objects on our little blue planet they contain an intrinsic wisdom we would struggle to obtain in several lifetimes.
Just to reiterate the somewhat obvious, I was not a natural woo-woo lover. I didn’t believe in the souls of rocks, trees, and other inanimate objects. I grew up in the countryside but had a near anaphylactic reaction to being in nature. I used to say with pride that I didn’t trust any moving specimens smaller than dogs. And to be honest, even dogs were an area of contention (they kind of still are).
So when did crystal collecting come into the mix? It really started the first time that I tried Pranic Healing. As soon as the practitioner placed a crystal next to my head, I felt a strong cool tingling sensation and an easing of the tension in my mind. She used others too, but that was the one I remember in particular. This same woman gave me a ‘charged’ crystal, a tiny smooth amethyst that made me buzz around my heart and chest when I held it in my palm. Later on, I bought a protective crystal from her to help shield me from the negative energies of my workplace, a tiny pointed crystal with a rainbow aura. Other friends and colleagues had their own crystals too: labradorite chunks for the office, rough quartz stones enchained in pendants. I kept mine in my bag until I noticed that the tiny pointy fellow had misshaped the fine contours of my rather expensive handbag. Funnily enough, he disappeared shortly thereafter, and I’m apt to think he knew he had it coming.
The practice of crystal healing intensified as I started to work with my Shaman. Whether in her London flat or on retreat, she often used crystals to deepen the release of energy. She would nod towards a small satchel of stones in the corner and let you pick a few to work with that session. Her collection was a tightly curated assortment of larger-sized stones: rough amethyst, rose quartz, angular pyrite chunks, large smooth malachite and a rounded onyx with faceted sides. Placing the stone on my body, I would lay back as she rattled, whistled and sang. During those sessions, I was very new to this work (sometimes I feel I am still new to this work) and I’m honest when I tell you I can’t remember that much when I think back to those first few months. I was in an intense emotional state and definitely had not mastered the art of being present. I came, I purged emotions/energy, I went. My trajectory in and out of her flat was not unlike a tumbleweed.
As the sessions with Anna progressed, however, my sensations with crystals became more acute. Sometimes the crystals felt like they sunk into my body and were inside of me. Other times I felt them disappear completely, no small feat when you’re talking about a half kilo crystal with its parameters finished in triangulation. With an amethyst on my forehead or a malachite tucked next to my heart, taking care to make sure the crystals touched my skin directly, I felt a light but consistent pumping. A definitive sensation. Unquestionably happening. The feeling would crescendo and deepen as Anna began to rattle or sing an icaro. I tried to make sense of it: I’m warm, the stone is cold, it’s cold in here, I’m tense, it’s just on top of a vein…but none of these explanations stood the test of time. It didn’t seem to matter if I put the crystal on my hand, navel or head – the sensation was always the same. And not to mention, every time I would pass the stone back to the Shaman it was boiling hot. Overflowing with my energies, she said.
I’m now the proud owner of my own crystal mini-kingdom. They all sit here next to me as I type, helping to suck up bits of the stress and anxiety I simultaneously release and require as part of this crazy blogging process. I’ve even got hubby in on the action – he has his own clear quartz that I keep by his bedside so he can release into the stone as he sleeps.
Long post short: I cannot deny the power of these stones. I’d like to explain it away, even to say I’ve tried it and it was nonsense, but I just can’t. They’re weird, beautiful, and completely powerful behind our ability to comprehend. I hope if you’re loving the woo like I am, you find yourself some crystalline friends, pronto.
A few places to check out, if you’re a crystal lover like me:
Anna Hunt: Anna has a small selection of hand-cut, pure Peruvian stones that are unbelievably great. Completely worth a look. My take: normal crystals are cooking, these are cooking with gas. Get thy a Peruvian crystal.
Stone & Violet: they have one of the better selection of crystals I’ve seen in some time. Prices vary but are worth it for the beauty of the pieces. Many of them are not stones you’ll want to work with directly on the body, but the ones for displaying are just gorgeous.
David Hunter: His IG feed will make you weep. Weep, I tell you.
Do you have any crystal stories? Stones that you love, loathe or anything in between? I’d love to know more about your experience with stones. ♥