I touch the stone for a moment of presence that is free of long strings of thought stories. Through the day I sense more than just stories as well, but I do not fight with them. They are like leaves on a much greater tree, even in winter.
I pick up a stone outdoors and carry it, but it is too cold to hold for long, even through my glove. Stones are cold when it is cold outside, but they can break through ice. Thoughts carry the warmth and coldness of our relationship to things, but they are also a tool to make changes with when we encounter them within the present.
All things, our vision of how they are, and the feeling they engender, are available to be present with. By and by they may speak to us of their emptiness, let us pick them up more gently, use them.
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