Stone Speak
Keep Listening
Welcome to number 35. Ive been in a French speaking part of Switzerland for a few months now. Today, something extraoridinary overcame me. I hope you enjoy.
The thoughts began before I even left. I had already decided I would go but the longer I paced throughout the kitchen watching the lingering fog to lift, my mind almost stopped me. No stay here.
I closed my eyes and asked…”should I come today?”...and in the silence of my breath–the timeless time without structure–a tingle crept up my spine and as if the distant dew laden leaves far off tickled my cheeks without sound or words. My eyes snapped open smiling and I snatched my keys for my van and stepped out the door.
…the fog was thick, my mind was heavy…the stones were calling…I could “feel” them…
Exiting the house I was eagerly greeted and felt a pulse of, “yes Jake–you’re listening”, while seeing Philip, a French speaking neighbor, who I’d just met an hour earlier. He and I exchanged conversation with broken English & German, that I need more firewood–they speak French here– and I don’t, but I do need wood–and then that man, Philip, stood again with a huge smile waving at me.
His mannerisms beheld an unexpected enthusiasm to see me rounding the back of my van–The Centurion–to open the driver’s door on the right side. (It’s English). I could feel the stones signaling through his gestures…”yes Jake–you’re coming now!”.
I crept away slowly passing quickly through the small village of Suchy and out onto, Grand Rue, to, Rue de Corcelles, leading out and away from Suchy’s prominent church tower centerpiece. The fog quickly swallowed the view and I was left with only the ropad in front of me.
A jolt found me seeing an old American late 80’s Oldsmobile stationwagon. It could only be Jerome, another man I had met just the day before. He gave me a power steering fluid. I flashed my English van’s headlamps and waved. I know he knew it was me. I’m the only guy in town with an English van.
I could feel the stones “rooting” me on. Jerome! Philip! The fog was thick and my heavy mind could’nt help but loosen. I wondered, how could I have not left, what is it about being indoors and around your comfort that tempts you to stay put? The stones kept calling me. It was undeniable.
My GPS signal wouldn’t connect. The directions on maps disappeared leaving just the round endless spiral circling. I was left with only myself, The Centurion and the fog filled scape of somewhere I’ve only been a few times, descending out of Suchy in the direction of, Yverdon…but, I wasn’t alone!
I recalled my one and only other pass through Yverdon–when we arrived here–a week earlier. I remember seeing a certain road branching off a particular round-about. That road had a trellis arching over it filled with vines. The round-about was across from a discreet, but vibrant colored home. “Something” about everything in that spot called to me then, and I could see, in my mind’s eye with an undefinable clarity as direction…”That! There! That is the road Jake!”..the stones shuddered through me.
“Yes, of course!” I thought. Of course it is. That round-about is just beyond the natural thermal spas and also holds a view of, Chateau Yverdon. Of course thats’ the turn and road to get to the stones. I felt the signal then and I knew that was where to go.
The stones call ushered in a reminder, a way, the way I’ve been guided by too many times before. I don’t need GPS! I have come to know the feeling! I have come to trust which way to go without a mind’s thought or conjecture. My body was tapped in, and my previous heaviness vacated.
I snatched my phone from its cradle on the dash and slid it into my pocket. I felt like Luke Skywalker turning off the nav screen before firing the ion torpedos into the death star when listening to “the force”.
It was me and the fog listening to stones somewhere. It made zero sense but overcame my sense in a way I felt I had to capture.
I attempted to catch some notes on this profound moment, I wanted to write it. Something…write something…the buzzing feeling warping through my body demanded it! I’ver written so many times while driving, but driving in an English van on the right side of the vehicle being right handed doesn’t work that well. There is no cupholder, or seat space to write.
I couldn’t ignore the flood of invigoration. I wrestled out my paper and clipboard anyway and slapped it over my right thigh.
I downshifted into third gear with my left hand and slowly released the clutch. The clipboard held in place over my right thigh. I fished out my pen from the Greek messenger bag and quickly gave it to my right hand holding the wheel. Through the fog the roadside pylon markers displayed an abrupt curve. I pushed the brake to slow. My clipboard dangled over my thigh. I caught the wheel, switched hands, and swiftly pressed the clipboard tightly over my thigh with my pen holding right hand.
The moment was frenzy! A car blew past.
I steadied The Centurion around the sharp descending turn and gathered my concentration while bolting down a single phrase to paper…I couldn’t miss this moment…not in the fog, not on a turn, not anything…The Stones Commanded it!
I wrote frantically without thought…
“Fog thick mind left I see other listening- Stones! Showing me HFS which way!”
HFS-Holy Fuken Shit- I wrote!!
The stones just showed me, they called me,
YVERDON,
COME NOW SON
COME SEE
THE TIME HAS COME
IT’S BEEN MILLENIUMS
COME STARE
FIND ME
IM THERE
SPIRAL–YOU’LL SEE
THE SPIRAL
FOR THOSE WHO SEEK
SPIRAL
ETERNITY
CYCLES WE REACH
CYCLE-SPIRAL-ALWAYS IN MOTION
CANT HOLD, STAY, STOP OR SEIZE
LIFE–LIVING–LIKE STONE SPEAK
COME–WRITE THESE WORD FOR ME
**I stepped across the road after parking, buzzing inside, I saw a path. My steps crunched the small stones beneath my feet. The soles of my boots found earth, and mud and the crunching silenced.
It became quiet.
Squishing, an earth streak.
A treeline–thick and full–welcomed me.
The city, the cars, the roads and my thoughts all seized.
The fog lifted!
I smelled pine.
I looked to my hands twinkling my fingers.
My blinks were slow.
A grin emerged with a swelter within.
I’m here again!
I stepped into a wide vastness and found the space.
I looked left and right,
and the stones–silent–stared into my face.
My breath went in and out, slowly, captured, struck…content!
Thank you for listening!
WE, are always here!
–END–
an elephant? a lion? what do you see?



I like that you always listen…. Because you always bring through great wisdom from within. I see an angel standing before you, a calm presence of great knowing that the land belongs to you… to us all. 🍃🌎💫 you are planting seeds.