In one of the classes I undertook for my Level 3 in Counselling Skills – the course I decided to do during the first year of the pandemic, to get a sense of the basics and find out if pursuing therapy as a career really was the right path for me to go down – we looked at crystals and their uses in therapy. From a selection of crystals with different colours and textures, I chose rose quartz.
I knew something of crystals before the class, the mythology and ideas around them, and was already aware that rose quartz is associated with healing and protection. I chose it for this, and for its calming colour – pink, which is one of my favourite colours as well – and because it makes me think of clean air and fresh tastes, mountain tops and mental clarity.
Most of all, my affinity for this stone comes from my mother. She often wore a chain around her neck that had a small pendant of shaped rose quartz hanging from it. Now she is no longer here, I often wear it in remembrance and honour of her. It makes me feel safe and tells me, time and again, that I was loved, am loved, and always will be.
I find rose quartz to be a hopeful and empowering stone, carrying a small piece with me in my bag much of the time as well as wearing my mother’s, because of its alleged protection abilities. I often think, with magical and esoteric things, it’s as much about what we choose to believe as it is the physical reality of the objects themselves. The mind is a powerful thing. You could say it’s magical, if we define magic as those things that science knows little about, at least as yet, though knowledge grows continually. For me, magic is synonymous with mystery.
Rose quartz always feels cool in my hand. The texture fascinates me. It makes me think of Himalayan pink salt, which is probably why I associate it with taste. Safety is important to me, not only because it makes sense to be and stay safe, but because of past traumatic experiences, during which I felt very unsafe. Anything that gives me an enhanced feeling of being safe – along with the sense that there is someone or something watching over and protecting me – is welcome.
When I imagine rose quartz to have a personality, it is always a happy, optimistic one. Rose quartz is the friendly stranger who greets you at the party, welcomes you in. It is also the friend who will sit with you on the kerb in the rain, an arm around you while you cry. I don’t always feel happy, who does? I struggle to feel optimism for the world as I get older, my eyes seeing, reading and hearing things every day that can eat away at optimism the way the sea reshapes the outlines of the land over time. Life remains a stubbornly difficult thing to maintain, financially and emotionally. Rose quartz, as a tangible physical thing and as a symbol, feeds me hope when I look at and touch it. It reminds me whenever I am down that there is more happiness to come, just around the corner. It makes me think of my mum, and a mother’s unconditional love.
Rose quartz is, simply, a beautiful thing made by nature’s processes over millions of years. Every single piece of it is older than any of us, older than any human being who has ever lived. We are all as remarkable as crystal, as every other aspect of the physical world, though we often forget this fact. Holding a piece of any crystal in our hands, meditating on its colours and textures, has us looking upon a beauty that is both simple and incredibly complex. It can, if we let it, remind us we are part of something much bigger than ourselves.