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Read the Story Behind It ↓
As easy-breezy as I’d like to be, I’m stubborn as a rock with some things. I feel much more comfortable when my valuables are set in stone. I like having confidence in how important parts will go. Plus, I like to think of myself as one who’s dependable, solid as a rock: steady and unbreakable.
I’m not alone. It’s common for humans to seek stability. Our brains relax when there’s predictability1. Still, even the strongest of rocks break down eventually.
In fact, the Rock Cycle is a fundamental part of geology:
Rocks form from the melting or compressing of other rocks.
Then they break down.
Then they reform into new rocks -starting the cycle again.
Along the way, from their greatest strengths to their weakest moments, they always serve a purpose: at their hardest, they form the foundations of valleys and mountains; at their weakest, they feed our gardens.
It’s a helpful reflection for the war between strong and soft that’s been raging inside of me. One side screams: “Harden up. Don’t be so weak.” The other side whispers: “Soften, please. Don’t be so unyielding.” Still, no matter the volume, both sides use terror tactics: “Any sign of weakness and you’ll perish” or “You design your demise with stubbornness.”
Caught between a rock and a hard place (or soil and a soft place), neither side has won this war; they’ve both been stuck in a pervading sense of doom and failure. I guess that’s what happens in a conflict where both sides carry pieces of truth: peace is made from the strong and soft parts too.
It’s another one of those razor’s edges that I walk, teeter-tottering between strong and soft:
How can I love myself as I harden and dissolve? (listen to the teeter-totter song)
It’s been a big question for me lately as new wrinkles continue to remind me that we all break down eventually. It’s been sad and scary. It seems like every time I talk to my elders, there’s a new ache and another friend dying. I can’t help but to see the trajectory in my own skin wearing.
And yet, as I look closer into my aging face, there too is found a growing strength, a solid soul, evermore sturdy each day: More sure of myself as I let go of who I am. Evermore confident as I embrace what I’ve been.
In fact, looking back (which has been a daily adventure since the crows have taken residence by my eyes), I’ve begun to see a hopeful pattern come to light: every time I've hardened, there’ve been parts that grew soft. And every time I’ve softened, there’ve been parts that grew strong. The heart has been the best example of this dance, always getting stronger as I forgive and adapt. Always getting softer as I strengthen my care for all the parts that get me here: those that erode into soil and those that hold mountains together.
Now, I’ve begun to see the rock cycle all around me, even in the show that I just finished watching: Ted Lasso (I recommend it completely!) It’s about a professional football team, and the strength that they find in their softening: how aging off of the field can make fertile coaches. How we become stars by making extra passes. How holding on to each other makes the losses easier. How giving second chances makes the whole team winners.
Still, I wouldn’t say that I’ve found an answer to the ongoing tiff between the solid foundation and the crumbling cliff, but I do find hope and heart when I see the gifts in the enduring stone and the dust in the wind.
May peace find you through all of it.
Rock Out in the Rock Cycle
the science behind the song
Though the name for Rock’n’Roll actually comes from the rocking of a boat2 (not stones), I can’t help but to imagine these unassuming grey blobs as the nerdy representatives for the genre of music that would forever change what it means to be human.
But this article isn’t about hip-swirling or head-banging -unless you’re referring to the hard-knocks of wind and rivers who reduce mountains to gravel and grit (which I’d call pretty punk-rock, by definition). This is the Earth science behind the lyrics I’m singing.
So, if you get turned on by dorky explorations of life’s wonders and amazements, here’s a whole 18 hundred words on how rocks cycle between stone and dirt:
Love Songs to Our Nature
It’s not always easy being human, but it sure does help to sing through it! In a mix of music, metaphor, and ecology, every song and story affirms the heart of our nature through all of life’s weather and wonders.
Love Notes to Our Nature
Every day I look to the world around me for reflections to keep my heart going. Check out these daily love notes here:
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https://www.nacwellbeing.org/predictability-for-reducing-anxiety-and-promoting-wellbeing/#:~:text=If%20we%20are%20exposed%20to,be%20predictable%2C%20moderate%20and%20controllable.
https://www.bbc.co.uk/music/articles/dc64e24d-c4e7-4e34-b2f7-e34a00ea16ad#:~:text=The%20story:%20The%20term%20rock,it%20would%20have%20caused%20outrage.
