-A storm is coming
-The sky is clear
-I'm talking about you
Organic shops, yoga studios and Reiki massages signs flowered everywhere. No large resort, supermarket or corporate chain had made it through the cliffs. Mazunte was so remote time seemed to slow down. The people were as diverse as eccentric. Penelope was into Reiki, James taught English, Sally planned weddings. Everyone was in their own bubble and all bubbles bounced together in harmony. Mazunte was a true hippie town.
All was good in the world, until work started. I had hired a company to develop a new website for my business, a complex project. They made extravagant promises and said YES to everything, but the job was disappointing. My money was shrinking and my hopes with it. Discussions became arguments, heated conversations and then clashes.
James noticed the change in my attitude. We would come back from the beach mindful and light. After breakfast we would work side by side, then I would get on a call and start yelling. The call created such anger that I would keep cursing in my beard. An aggressive energy filled the room. It ruined my day and made Sally uncomfortable. It had to stop.
I knew my hateful outbursts were bad, but I could not control them. James suggested that the next time I felt angry, I tried not to engage with it. Eventually, I would be able to channel that destructive energy and use it for something creative. “Emotions are just energy in motion” he said. Easier said than done.
Another failed demo of my website made me lose it. I hung up, closed my laptop and stormed out. Too agitated to stay still, I walked back and forth on the beach. Penelope was sitting on her own in the shade of a rock. She sensed my anger before I opened my mouth, “a storm” she said. I complained for 10 minutes while she sat there, silent, with both hands in a bag.
She too had destructive bursts of rage when she was younger. She blamed that on her italian roots. Yet, she had changed. Now whenever she felt frustrated, Penelope would find alone time and weave. That was her way of dealing with anger. She made jewelry.
Penelope’s craft was simple and refined. Two to three colors, one stone, and a lot of weaving. She made bracelets and collars with Gemstones she bought in India. I asked her to make me a bracelet. We agreed on the materials then went to her place to choose the stone. I waited on the hammock in the patio. She walked out of the room and handed me a heavy toiletry leather bag. “The stones are inside. Be careful”, she turned around and went for a shower.
I laid the bag on my belly and opened it. They were so many stones! Each was delicately stored in a Ziploc bag with a label on it. They came in all colors, shapes and textures. Lost in colors, I swung the hammock too hard and the bag fell to the ground. A loud TAC just as Penelope entered the patio.
- I TOLD YOU TO BE CAREFUL!!! Those are expensive!
- Shit, I’m sorry.
- I hope you didn’t break them.
I picked up the scattered stones and flipped them one by one. Luckily, they were all intact. All except one, the largest. An oval turquoise stone with blue, green and black marks. I looked at Penelope with a sorry face:
- I guess that’s the one for me then
- Let me see… Her eyes opened wide. She smiled
- What?
- That’s chrysocolla.
- And?
- It’s called the stone of peace for its harmonious properties. Perfect for you!
- Bullshit!
- Look it up. Chrysocolla with CH and Y
I did look it up. It was indeed the stone of peace, said to attract harmony, to temper anger and to soften communication. Not only that, it was said that chrysocolla was particularly effective on Libras…Yup, I am a Libra. Go figure.
I told James about the stone. He was not surprised. Once a random old woman he met at the London airport gifted him a Tiger Eye. He refused first but she insisted. She stated that he needed the stone. James smiled: “You know what they say about stones? You do not choose them, they choose you”.
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