After playing with rocks for an afternoon, I was truly content. I had fun. Rocks to me are treasures. I keep stacks of them in my yard, 3 and 4 feet high. I feel wealthy when I have piles of rocks.
I'm guessing that not everyone feels that way about rocks. As a matter of fact, I've heard some people curse them, as they seem to multiply in their yard, only to reach out for an ankle or a mower blade.
Perhaps this is the epitome of looking for the good in things. A rock is meaningless until a human gives it beauty or usefulness or distain.
This is a great opportunity to look at how I see the other rocks in my life. Do I look for the beauty and fun in all the aspects of my life? Is the detritus of my life mentally rejected and discarded as ugly and useless? Or can I find the beuaty of things and situations in a new context?
My rocks only acquire beauty and wealth in the presence of the context that I create for them. I can also accept the negative or positive context that someone else is only too happy to hand me.
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