Stone Walls

I recently returned to New England, my soul’s home, for a conference and was reminded of the power of “place.” Whether it’s where you grew up, or where something important happened, returning to a place can stir one in deep, unpredictable ways.

Getting off the highway onto old roads, my mind twisted and turned through memories like the road itself, but it was the stone walls that let me know I had returned. New England is famous for its stone walls. They were the result of farmers trying to clear their land. The stones were used to line their properties - clear illustrations of taking something bad and turning it into something useful.

It was a long drive, so I started thinking about my stones. Four years in boarding school provided many. Moving here after my father died added more. To those early stones, many others from a variety of chapters of my life were added. Yes, I wish there weren’t so many stones, but the trick has been learning how to make something out of my pile.

There are people who have no interest in such back-breaking (soul-breaking) work. They prefer to throw their stones into the woods, hire someone to carry them away, or leave them buried, but there’s much to be gained by picking up a stone, looking at it, and placing it where it might do some good. In the end, the stones give your life shape, much like the stone walls around a property.

I needed the help of an expert builder to get started, and it took me a long time to learn how to work with the stones, but now I wish I’d begun the work sooner. At least I’ve begun . . . and I’ve got lots of stones left to keep me busy.