Sitting in the corner of my writing desk is a rock cairn that I bought at a mining supply store. I didn’t buy it right away. I came home, thought about how ridiculous it was to actually buy a stack of rocks, and then went back and got it. It’s my favorite writing desk accessory, though my Einstein doll is a close second.
The rocks remind me to stay the writing course while Einstein, the guy who developed theories related to time, reminds me to be patient about it, not one of my strengths.
Hikers use rock cairns to mark trails and let fellow hikers know where to go. They are especially helpful when trails traverse giant slabs of granite, like they do in the Ruby Mountains near my home. If you lose the trail, just look for a cairn, and then head toward the next one. They keep you on the trail, or at least heading in the right direction. They’re also kind of fun to build, to find rocks that will actually stay on top of each other and stay standing for any length of time.
Next to my cairn on my desk, I also have random rocks that I have picked up on walks and hikes. I am no geologist or archaeologist; I just tend to look down while I walk, so I find rocks I like. I bring them home and set them my desk or in my classroom.
One friend who loves rocks and crystals told me that any type of rock will help break up negative energy. I have no idea if this is true, but it sounds great. As a result, I have rocks scattered in every corner of my high school classroom. I figure I need all the help I can get to help build positive energy in there.
When I first brought home a rock years ago, my husband asked me if I’d found another leaverite.
I was completely impressed with his geological prowess and got all excited that he actually knew what kind it was, until he explained himself. “Yep, that’s a leaverite,” he said. “You should ‘leaverite’ where you found it.”
I was crushed. My plain gray rocks were just that, a plain gray rocks. Bummer but at least they now had an official name.
My rocks are all leaverites, and I use them to guide me, to remind me of where I’m going. I am a writer, or at least I’m on my way if the cairn in the corner of my desk is guiding me correctly.