Obsidian said "don't forget me"
Last week, I gathered together a collection of cooling crystals.
Crystals for soothing the body, quieting the mind, and bringing relief to hearts that had been carrying too much heat.
Some offered comfort for the fires within us.
Others supported us through the fires around us—the blazing summer sun, the wildfires that have touched so many lives, even the subtle fires reflected in the movements of the stars.
When I finished, I believed the collection was complete.
But there was still another.
The help we didn't know we needed
At first, I barely noticed.
It was only a faint whisper at the edge of my awareness.
"Don't forget about me."
Blue Obsidian.
I didn't hear them. Probably because I wasn't looking for another crystal.
After breathing in smoke from the wildfires, I'd been clearing a lingering cough and the familiar snuffles from my body. My Amber Syrup Star Song crystals had gathered around me, alongside the Chlorium crystals (Chlorite and Lithium Crystals) who first came together during the global pandemic to support the respiratory system.
I was doing well with these crystals. So much so that I ignored the blue Obsidian when they started singing. My body was already finding its way back to balance. But it was not just my body that needed support. It turned out my heart was asking for care.
They will not be ignored
Obsidian persisted in their song. A little louder this time.
"Don't forget about me."
It wasn't until I finally stopped long enough to listen that I understood why Blue Obsidian had been calling.
Obsidian has long been cherished as a stone of reflection.
Not the kind that judges.
The kind that gently holds up a mirror until we're ready to meet ourselves with tenderness.
As I sat quietly with them, something unexpected began to rise.
Grief.
Not sharp grief.
Not the grief of a single loss.
A quieter grief.
The kind that gathers unnoticed while life is quietly changing us.
The past several months have been filled with beautiful transformation.
So much has shifted.
The way I move through my days.
The way I work.
The way I listen.
Even my relationship with the crystals has been gently evolving.
Somewhere along the way, I had been saying goodbye to an older version of myself without ever realizing it.
Sometimes grief doesn't come because something has ended. Sometimes it arrives because something beautiful is still unfolding. As soon as I could feel that truth, another familiar voice joined the conversation.
There was another
Copper.
Warm.
Steady.
Kind.
Where Blue Obsidian invited me inward, Copper wrapped warmth around what I discovered there.
I've always experienced Copper as a great conductor—not only of energy, but of movement. It reminds the heart that nothing is meant to remain frozen forever.
Even sorrow has its own current.
Even tears know where they're going.
Together, Blue Obsidian and Copper became companions through a doorway I hadn't known I was standing before.
One helped me see.
The other helped me soften.
One revealed what had been hidden.
The other reminded me that healing rarely asks us to hurry.
They didn't give up on me
Looking back, I'm grateful Blue Obsidian refused to give up on me.
The crystals often know what we're ready to see before we do.
Perhaps that's because they don't measure time the way we do.
They don't become impatient.
They don't force.
They simply remain present, offering their song again and again until one ordinary moment becomes the moment we're finally able to hear it.
The deepest guidance rarely shouts.
It simply keeps singing until we're ready to listen.
The messages that life has
Life has a beautiful way of speaking to us.
Sometimes through thunder.
But often through whispers.
Through a crystal. A dream. The inner voice through a quiet longing. A conversation you can't forget. A feeling that keeps returning no matter how many times you set it aside.
And perhaps the whisper you almost ignore may be carrying exactly the medicine your soul has been waiting for.