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  • Writer's pictureSylvie Boustie

An Encounter with Stone


During one of my winter trips to France while I lived in Canada, I decided to go for a walk to the far side of the property I steward, originally the home of my grandparents. I was guided to a particular destination, and as you will learn, received a very special teaching.

There are two possible ways to walk to the other side of the property and on a sudden impulse I decided to go via the fields, which is not the easiest way, but I felt attracted to the more secluded and sheltered area, past the wild sage patch.

As I walked along the old trodden path, passing acacias and oaks, my eyes were attracted to a stone… a wide, flat stone I had never noticed before. Now that all the leaves had fallen it was clear to see, perched on what looked like an ancient stone wall, now crumbled and appearing totally out of place… looking like a stone bench in the middle of the wilderness. I couldn’t believe my eyes! No one in the family had ever mentioned it yet it struck me as being worthy of discussion!

I moved forward to get a closer look. Underneath it was dry and full of leaves but with no evidence of any animals sleeping there. It was such an inviting spot I quickly went back home to get my tobacco and some smudging supplies. When I returned I sat on the stone. As I got in tune with it I asked if sitting on it was really appropriate and I came to understand that this was a Sacred Stone, and to sit by it, not on it. As I repositioned myself I felt overwhelmed by the intensity of what this stone wanted to tell me, like it had been waiting for centuries for that moment! Finally I relaxed, trusting that all of it would come to me in time.

The stone informed me that it would offer many teachings, and that she is my connection to the spirit world there, in that part of the world. I felt like digging in and crawling underneath it, so I could feel myself between the Stone and Mother Earth!

I bent over to check what was indeed underneath and discovered a wall to the back, surprisingly smooth and straight. It looked like one giant stone, cracked throughout the ages.

Next, I followed my urge to dig, using my bare hands, but suddenly I sensed a presence and stopped. On my right was a long, thin, and elegant shadow, a bit like a monk might look, and it asked me, “What are you planning to accomplish digging like that?” I felt awkward and embarrassed and ended up asking who he was. I heard/understood that He was the Spirit of the place. I realized I had to stop digging and that I needed to show more respect. I sensed I had to move every bit of earth and every small stone with love in my heart, more love than I had shown so far. It had to be a ‘moment of love’ and could not be done today or while in a hurry… I needed to take time with this special invitation, nourish and cherish it, let it mature, all of it: the stone, the spot, the digging, and the touching of the small stones. That day was only to be my introduction, my approach.

I therefore bade farewell to the place (leaving a whole tobacco pouch under the stone) knowing that I would be bringing the teaching back to Canada, and cherishing the stone until the next summer, by which time I should know what steps to take next.


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