Last month, I read Where I Can't Follow, a fiction by Ashley Bloom. I feel a bit mixed about it overall, but she has a lyrical, magical quality to her writing that I deeply enjoy, and there are insights throughout. For instance:
“She rumbled when she talked and when she laughed, and I swear the vibration of her was still trapped inside me somewhere, wrapped like static around the softest parts of me.”
I'm sitting here on a day that's gentle gray, earth briefly squishy from morning rumbles, the smell of honeysuckle touching my nose and skin. I'm thinking about how when we take life in wholly, as we journey from first breaths to childhood to wherever we are now, we brush against all sorts of experiences. Some are overtly good. Some are traumatic. Some have silver linings. Some don't.
Often, though, they thread themselves into who we are, and we have to decide if that feels right. When we pull at the string, when will it stop? Will I entirely unravel? How will I reform?
(Can I just take a moment to say that volcanoes, silica-rich water, and a whole lot of time create amazing things?)
The Encyclopedia of Crystals doesn't have a specific entry for flower agate, but Judy Hall does write about chalcedony (of which agate is a subcategory), agate, and pink agate. In addition to other properties, all of these have a link to being stabilizing, healing emotional trauma, and infusing us with unconditional love.
Looking closely at flower agate makes it easy to see how it received this particular name. There are blooms everywhere - an earth awakening to spring, stretching, absorbing, blossoming again again again. Each stone tells a story of growth, of waking up, of expansion.
Using this crystal assists in healing emotional wounding and trauma, the healing that is needed for our soul's growth. It allows us to feel loved and supported as we
do this work (and play!) that we are here to do, unraveling the pain and stepping toward peace, self acceptance, and things that fill us with YES.
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