Stacking Stones

Stone stackers. Ever seen a stack of stones? Many Buddhists stack stones as a spiritual exercise, though I know nothing about it. If you've ever seen one, they're strangely beautiful. On my commute to work everyday there is a house with several stacks in various places around the yard.

Driving home one day I started to wonder why these teetering towers of Babel are so attractive to me. The question needed to be answered because these things seem reach out to my very soul. Do these things have some sort of inherent spiritual endowment that is palpable to my soul? The thought was a little disconcerting, so I had to have an answer.

It turns out to be a simple answer that does not lead us to new-age energies, false mysticism, or even Buddhism. It is a simple answer that has three aspects, all pointing to the same person in a different way.

The first is aesthetics -- beauty itself. Stacked stones are just neat, and pleasant to look at. They have a certain symmetry and balance that make them pleasant to the eye.

But any time we encounter beauty, we encounter a little sliver of God Himself. God is beauty so perfect that it is not merely attractive, but is efficacious. Were we to behold it -- or rather, on the day we hope to behold it -- it will be sufficient to satisfy all our desires completely. So our attraction to beauty is attraction to God Himself. Therefore, my attraction to these little stone towers reveals my attraction to God.

The second aspect is order. The topic of order is probably something that could be explored at length, but I'm not going to do that. I think there is an attractiveness to order on multiple levels. There is the sense of predictability and control that order brings, and stands in opposition to all the disorder in our lives. Order itself is attractive, and again is reflective of our attraction to God, who is perfectly ordered in everything.

The third aspect is the indication of another person. Stones don't stack themselves. They are stacked by a human person, and the stack is an expression of that person. When we see it, we know vaguely the existence of the other. And as human beings created to be in relationship with others, when we encounter another, we experience, however dimly, our innate need to connect. In this case, the mystery of this anonymous other probably heightens this instinct, and we are left with just the raw need, the raw desire. It is, again, a reflection of our need to connect with Him who alone can complete us sufficiently.

So now whenever I see these little monuments of peace, I ponder gratefully the great gift that is the desire for God, and beg him to enter into my heart.

Whether any of this is universally true, or is just my personal experience, I do not know. I have a feeling that it's a little of both. But my purpose is not to define anything. Simply to share my experience and thoughts, such as they are.