Who Are You, Stone People?

I was writing my latest book (Stone Witchery & Divination: Lithomancy and Magick with Rocks, Gems, and Crystals) and looking with fresh eyes at my relationship with rocks. Specifically, I wondered not what they are—ask any geologist—but who they might be.

Yes, they are persons, but what manner of people? We humans can live next door to a person for years, or work in the same office, and never know much about them; that's even more the case when your neighbors aren't human.

Our species, homo sapiens, has been around for maybe 300,000 years, and have been chipping stone tools, stacking rocks into walls, or coveting pretty gems the whole time. How odd that we have been neighbors so long and worked together so closely, and as a people, stones are still a mystery to us.

In ages past, we were glad for stones because they could be shaped into useful tools that made hunting and digging easier, life better, survival more likely. Now we are more likely to encounter them as jewelry, flagstone paths, or countertops. In such cases, however, we tend to see stones simply as things. Things completely different from living creatures, having little or nothing in common with plants and animals, much less people. That's not my view, but I still fall into that way of thinking sometimes.

Of course, many Paganfolk use stones for magick and divination. We like stones for their colors and patterns, and for their infinite variety. And most of us believe they have energetic qualities. But is this a sign of life?

That depends on your definition of life. Beyond this, there are more questions. What if stones are sentient? What if stones have souls? Let's explore these ideas.

Are stones alive? In theory a living entity does up to eight things:

• Is highly organized with cells as their basic unit;
• Shows homeostasis (maintains a stable internal environment);
• Responds to stimuli;
• Produces movement;
• Metabolizes (gets and processes energy);
• Grows and develops;
• Reproduces; and
• Adapts over time.

Looks like a no-brainer, at first glance. Homeostasis, maybe…but we don't see a lot of stones commuting to work (movement), or hot rock love leading to baby pebbles (reproduction), or boulders complaining if you jostle them in a crowd (response to stimuli).

But those are human ways of being alive. What if the definition's too narrow? Or what if stones can do all these things, but on a long, slow timeline that we aren't here long enough to perceive? Or what if they can do all these things, but without a structure of organic cells?

Rocks do not breathe, that we know of, but neither do anaerobic bacteria in the depths of the ocean. Rocks do not eat the kind of food we do, but they take an energy from the sun or from geothermal heat, and what is food for—except to create energy? Rocks do not reproduce in the way we do, or in the way that other animals and plants do. But they do quite often split, becoming one or more smaller stones, which might be a form of parthenogenesis for them.

As we explore planets within our solar system and exoplanets far beyond it, we will probably be forced to modify our ideas of what is living. There may be silicone-based lifeforms out in the cosmos, and even here on earth there are forms of life that exist at extreme temperatures and pressures, without oxygen or warmth or light. They are called extremophiles. What if stones exist on the spectrum of extremophiles, and we have just not enlarged our sciences enough to understand this?

Are stones intelligent? Intelligence can be defined as encompassing the ability to learn from experience, adapt to new situations, reason, and solve problems. Common elements include understanding abstract concepts, critical thinking, emotional knowledge, and effectively applying knowledge to navigate one's environment.

The problem here is that we can't use human language to communicate with rocks and measure their abilities. Whales seem to communicate through song, but we don't speak their language and they don't speak ours. We don't know what Information they are sharing. Can they reason, adapt, solve problems, and navigate their environments? If survival is a measure of success, then it would seem so—whales have been around much longer than humans have.

And so have stones. But without a common language, how can we know if they are learning, adapting, absorbing and applying knowledge—if they think? They could be thinking deep thoughts that would make Albert Einstein turn in his chalkboard, and we would not know.

The crude measures of human intelligence that we used for so long, the IQ tests, have long since given away to a more sophisticated understanding of different forms of intelligence. In his seminal work, Frames of Mind (1983), Dr. Howard Gardner of Harvard University listed eight types of intelligence: Logical-Mathematical, Verbal/Linguistic, Interpersonal, Intrapersonal, Musical, Visual-Spatial, Bodily-Kinesthetic, and Naturalistic. Since then he's added Existential, Moral, and Teaching-Pedagogical Intelligences.

How many other forms of intelligence are out there, of which we have not dreamed? And what arrogance to assume that human beings own them all.

We are used to thinking of intelligence in terms of our species, where it is often expressed by making complicated machines and buildings. But dolphins and elephants are also highly intelligent, and they don't build toaster ovens or iPhones. Dolphins have their own language, and may use it for sharing information on sea currents, or shark threats; but they are also not building skyscrapers, as far as we know.

Octopuses are also intelligent, and we can watch them figure out a path through a maze; perhaps they are quietly composing astounding symphonies, or writing fan fiction in their heads as well.

Now scientists wonder whether trees have a form of intelligence alien to the human variety. Trees communicate with their networks of interconnecting roots (the "wood wide web" of mycorrhizal fungi), through airborne chemical signals, and slow electrical pulses. They not only exchange water and nutrients, they can warn one another of danger.

But rocks do not appear to communicate in any language we can describe, and they don't build things (although we certainly enlist them to build things that we want to build). If they are solving quadratic equations, or exploring the philosophical underpinnings of the universe, they haven't shared the results with us. So—is there any indication whatsoever that stones are intelligent?

I don’t know. Absence of evidence is not evidence of absence. Perhaps they are simply intelligent in ways we cannot imagine, with synapses firing in crystalline lattices instead of meat brains. They might even be communicating with one another, or with stars or octopuses for all we know. Our radios aren't picking up any wavelength on which they're transmitting.

What if stones are enspirited? Animists believe that they are. Animism is "the attribution of a soul to plants, inanimate objects, and natural phenomena." Most Pagans are on board with the idea; but since we cannot see or touch souls or subtle expressions of spirit, we cannot demonstrate scientifically that rocks have such things. We can't even prove we have souls, much less that the rock next door has one.

Evidence aside, it's not difficult to intuitively believe that stones have spirits or souls of some kind. Each stone, whether a pebble or an entire mountain, has its own individuality. It not only inhabits space in the world, but does so with a unique character and presence. We acknowledge this by giving each mountain its own name (though we have not yet named each particular rock and pebble!).

What if, someday, we discover scientific evidence that rocks are spirited, alive, and intelligent? Would this change our relationship with them? Undoubtedly, if we could break the code of their communications.

But until then, let us simply hold space in our minds for the idea that rocks may be much more than we have imagined them to be. Perhaps this means treating them with a little more courtesy and care, just in case each stone on the surface of the planet is keeping a list of who is naughty and nice, in their terms. Maybe in the afterlife, we will face a jury of 42 rock judges, who will determine our fate in part by how we treated them, or their siblings.

My instinct says that rocks are so long-lived, that if they are conscious and aware, it is on a time scale far longer than human lifetimes. That being the case, they might not care much what we do or how we interact with them. On their time scale, anything we could do or say would be so fleeting as to be inconsequential to any self-respecting stone.

But does that apply to carving stones into blocks, so that we can build pyramids or federal office buildings? Do they care if we polish them in vibrating machines? Are they hurt or even mildly irritated when we carve dead presidents on a stone mountain in South Dakota? Would they notice these incursions on their personhood?

I don't know, and I'm not sure if our species will ever know. But I have shared this thought experiment in the hope that each of us, in our interactions with the "inanimate" world, treat rocks (and everything else) with a little more thoughtfulness, care, and respect.

Whether or not rocks and stars and planets notice our species, and how we interact with them, it can't hurt to show a little courtesy. Just in case.

And if you are working with stones as part of your magickal tool kit, in divination or whatever, all the more reason to show them respect: intelligent or not, they are still partners in our magick.

A Little Magickal Something Extra
My book Stone Witchery & Divination is full of magickal spells and divinatory techniques involving rocks, but I thought it might be fun to share something that's not in the book.

If you are struggling with a tough decision, ask some stones to help out. First, find three stones of about the same size, but different colors. Mine happen to be black onyx, white quartz, and reddish-brown petrified wood.

Ask your question aloud. Think about the two most obvious choices or courses of action, and assign each one to a stone. The third stone—we'll call it the Wisdom Stone—is your guide.

Describe Choice #1 to the stone representing that option, and ask it to explain the advantages of following that path. Imagine that it speaks to you, mind to mind.

Then pause, and shift your awareness to the Wisdom Stone, and listen for it to ask questions in your mind.

Being wise, the stone might ask things like, "How will your spouse (best friend, boss…) feel about this? Who will support your decision, and who will think it's crazy? A year from now, what will the repercussions be?"

After you have answered the Wisdom Stone and talked it over, do the same process with Choice #2. After Stone #2 makes its case, return your focus to the Wisdom Stone. Answer its questions and listen to its counsel.

Then you get to ask more questions of the Wisdom Stone. Start with, "Is there a third choice that we haven't yet explored? What is it?" Then ask, "Are there fourth, fifth, and sixth possibilities? Is one of them a 'win-win' choice that leads to an ideal outcome for me and those I care about?"

Listen closely to the Wisdom Stone's replies, then make your decision. Thank all three stones.

Is the stone actually speaking to you? Or is it a handy channel for your deep mind to communicate? Or is it something of both? It's a mystery. But the real question is, does this technique help you arrive at a good decision? It does for me; it's a partnership—me and the living stones.