The Fluorite Pyramid

It was about the time when crystals and semi-precious gemstones became popular, and I first began seeing crystal shops popping up all over. I was watching an interview on television with one of the better-known crystal aficionados. While the interviewer and his guest talked, a beautiful fluorite pyramid was on display, backlit to highlight its colors, as it revolved slowly to show off its every side. I lost my heart. I saw only its wonder, the most fantastic shades of purple and green, and in the provocative shape of a pyramid, which had always been special to me. I wanted this stone very badly. We’d connected, as it spun round and round on the display table. I was certain that nobody else had seen it the way I had. Nobody else existed in that moment, just the pyramid and I. I was almost bursting. I couldn’t stop gushing over it.  “Wow, isn’t it fantastic? Have you ever seen a more beautiful stone? Look! See how the colors open worlds to explore and promises of adventure? I’ve never seen such beauty!” It must have been annoying to listen to all night.

I continued the next day at work. I told everybody, and then a few more, about the wonderful fluorite pyramid I had seen on the telly the night before. My colleagues were all very kind. They listened to me, over and over. I simply couldn’t stop talking. Finally, one of them asked me the obvious question—“Why don’t you just go to a crystal shop and buy a fluorite pyramid, if it means that much to you?” I had thought of that myself, too, but had realized that I couldn’t. I didn’t want a fluorite pyramid. I wanted the fluorite pyramid. It was a personal matter. Like a woman falling in love with a man she sees in a movie; she wants him, not just any man. I wanted that particular fluorite pyramid, or nothing. There could be no compromise in the matter.

Getting it would not have been too difficult for me. I had a lot of drive, and didn’t give up easily. I could have gone looking for the stone; I would have found it. Something prevented me. It just wasn’t an option. There was something—what, I don’t know—that stopped me more completely than anything ever had before. It was a very weird situation for me. I wanted the stone, yet couldn’t go get it. It made absolutely no sense and was hard for me to accept. A little voice kept talking to me, trying to make sense of it. “Who are you to want that stone? You aren’t worthy of it. It’s too beautiful; it needs a person whose skill is equal to it—someone who knows what he or she is doing, not an amateur like you. You don’t even know why you want it; all you know is that you do. How can you stand being so self-centered?” The voice kept on and on, while I worked to accept the fact that it was not my destiny to be with this gorgeous stone.

I knew all the time, though, that it wasn’t my inner voice preventing me from trying to get the stone. It was something else; something beyond my experience. I had no idea what it could be.

Several months passed, and as time went by, I only rarely talked about the fluorite pyramid. There was nothing more to say, and nobody to listen. It lived in my heart, as alive as the first time we connected. I was always aware of the bond. That, too, was a new experience for me. I felt the stone, physically, in my heart, day and night. It was like we were in contact with each other—not  that we could communicate. It was as if we had a secret place, known only to us—a place where we were both present, all the time—a place of true love. I didn’t tell anybody about this secret place; I was just happy and grateful for it. And then it happened!

A small package wrapped in attractive paper lay on the table, the morning of my birthday. It wasn’t the only gift, but it called me. I removed the paper very carefully, and I haven’t the words to describe what I felt upon seeing the fluorite pyramid peering out at me from its nest of silk paper. The real one, the only one, the one I had bonded to so strongly. It lay there in front of me. It was a gift for me. It was mine! I couldn’t hold back the tears. I didn’t know how to express the gratitude I felt because the stone had chosen to come to me. It was difficult not to lose control. I felt like laughing and crying; I felt love overflowing my heart; I felt like embracing the whole world. Maybe some people felt I was too much. They couldn’t know that what they saw was the barest outlet. I kept most of it to myself.

I gave the little pyramid a place in my home, close to me. I often took it in my hand and watched the beautiful colors play in the light. It was like music. I felt my heart bursting with love and often wondered why it chose me. My whole life, I’d always feared I wasn’t “good enough.” With my stone, I would realize an added insecurity—what did it expect of me? Would I understand the signs? Did it want me to keep it, or would it like me to pass it on? I felt no communication between us. We were simply together, loving, and aware.  This went on for a long time, until one summer evening, the sort where dark never really comes.

I was lying in my bed, and I just couldn’t sleep. I’d never had problems sleeping before, so I didn’t really know what to do. Eventually, an image of the fluorite pyramid came to my mind, so I got up and brought it back to the bedroom. I put it on the seat of a chair, so I could lie down while I looked at it. The light was dusky, right between light and dark—perfect gray, middle-of-the-road light. I had no expectations; I just lay there, watching the amazing creature in front of me. A man took shape inside the pyramid—slowly, slowly. A real man, but a very tiny one, came to life. He was bare-foot, dressed in a short, white garment with a white string tied around his waist. He walked around the pyramid, with me a fascinated witness. He turned towards me and reached out his hand. I took it, and he pulled me into the pyramid.  We stood there together, inside my fluorite pyramid. As unfamiliar a situation as it was for me, I thought it nothing strange and felt completely safe. For some reason, we couldn’t talk to each other, so we used other means of communication, and it felt natural. I turned around, staring at the astonishing colors and shapes inside the stone. This beauty was greater than anything I’d ever seen before, and here I was, standing right in the middle of it. He took my hand to show me around his world, and we walked along the inside walls of the pyramid. One sight after another emerged as we started walking. Purples and greens blended into landscapes of softly glowing glass. We passed rivers, meadows, lush green grasses, forests, mountains, birds; it was Paradise. I looked down at myself once, and realized my clothes had changed to match my guide’s attire. We continued on, spiraling further and further into the center of the stone.

The landscapes continued to change at every step; it was almost overwhelming. I thought I was seeing the mainspring of beauty, that nothing could ever surpass this. After two or three trips around, I caught a glimpse of the center, still a long way off, from between two mountains. An unearthly light seemed to originate from there. It called to me, and I had to obey. I started walking down the mountain path towards the light, but my guide held me back. He explained, without words, that I should not. I looked at him, trying to communicate. It was almost like telepathy; we used no words. When he “spoke” to me, it became a knowing inside of me. I told him I felt the center of the pyramid calling to me and asked him whether it was dangerous to go down the mountain path. He told me that nothing in the stone was dangerous. Every path was safe. I was free to go wherever I wanted, the stone would protect me, but if I took the shortcut I wouldn’t understand what the light had to tell me. He said I would gain knowledge beyond my capacity to understand, and it would imbalance me. In other words, I could go insane. He continued, “Entering the center will be a blessing if you prepare yourself and walk the path of truth, but it’s a curse if you cheat and take the shortcut. You have seen a glimpse of what you seek, now step back, let go of the temptation, and follow the winding path until it ends in the center; then, you can step into the light. The path is the long road of education. Every time you take a step forward, the path closes behind you. You can never go back. Enjoy every step you take, because every step is filled with beauty and wisdom. One day, when you reach the center, you will know bliss, because you will have walked all the paths.” I knew this already. I just hadn’t known before that I knew. I felt no urge to take the shortcut, no urge to run between the mountains. I took his hand and told him that I would walk the long trail, and I would be happy for every step I took. He said he was glad that I had understood this in my heart. He took both my hands and wished me a happy journey, then reached out and touched the pyramid wall, and I was back in my bed, again. He waved goodbye to me and disappeared between some trees.

This experience was complete. I never tried communicating with the pyramid again. I’d gotten the message the stone had wanted to share with me. It’s no longer “my” stone, but the insight it gave me is mine, for the rest of my life. Thank you!

Excerpt from “Stones on the Road”