Moonstone Magic
My sister invited me and her friend to Joshua Tree for her birthday weekend. The much needed get-away turned out to be a somewhat surreal and spiritual experience for me.
On Saturday after dinner at the Joshua Tree Saloon, we headed to the tiny street market at the opposite corner of the block. When Jackie first mentioned the outing, I pictured booths selling funnel cakes and home-made aprons and beaded necklaces. I imagined a medium-sized crowd that came out to support their town. But there were only 4 stands stationed in a dirt parking lot. One sold CBD, another jewelry, a third sold aprons and bags, and the last one rocks and arrowheads. There were other shops open like art galleries, a book store, and a boutique. We even stumbled upon a mic night performance where a man recited a poem about fearless women around the world. His female companion provided sound effects using recycled cranks and pots and pans and everything else a preschooler would love to get his hands on.
I went to the street market, and Joshua Tree for that matter, with the intention of buying anything that spoke to me or gifts that reminded me of the people in my circle. I like to collect pieces that are unique to the places I visit so I have a memory of them, much like the way I like to blow up my pictures, frame them, and hang them in my house instead of buying canvassed “art” from Home Goods or the like. I didn’t walk to the @EsmeraldaDesings booth with a purpose. I simply like to admire folks’ work, creativity, and courage to live out their dreams. Esmeralda — a thin, dirty-blonde, free-spirit of age with an accent who made me internally ask where she was from — was selling gold and silver-plated rings, dainty ones that are popularly worn on every finger. I was interested in a little plain gold band with a circle in the middle. I tried it on and put it back because it didn’t speak to me. I did the same with a few others while Esmeralda explained where the metals came from, how she used to sell at the Melrose Trading Post in Los Angeles, but now lived on an acre-farm along with a couple of horses.
She and my sister were engaged in small talk when I caught sight of a moonstone in the shape of a teardrop. I picked it up, slipped it on my ring finger, and fell in love. Esmeralda complimented the choice. I snuck a peek at the ring stand for the price: $50. Too expensive. Plus, I already had a beautiful rectangular moonstone at home. Esmeralda sensed my hesitation so I shared my dilemma with her. She put my internal conflict into words by saying it was normal to feel like I’d be betraying my gemstone. I looked at her in shock of her clairvoyance, wondering if it was more common than not to feel turmoil over objects. In her seller vernacular, she said my rings would love each other’s company and I couldn’t help but chuckle. I knew my friend, a jewelry expert, would have pulled me away from the booth at that moment. But I couldn’t help it. There was a hypnotic force attracting me to it that was too powerful to pass over. I am fully aware of buyer’s remorse, which in my case is the regret I feel when I don’t purchase an item, and I wouldn’t have been able to forgive myself if I didn’t. During my indecisiveness, Esmeralda said she would throw in a skinny band with any purchase. I reached over and picked up a simple silver band with a chevron pattern that perfectly framed the teardrop. The combination tugged at my heart and finalized my decision. Without saying a word, I pulled the cash out of my wallet. I still felt a bit scammed by the ticket price but an ache inside me yearned for it. I handed Esmeralda the money and she in return handed me a piece of paper that described what a moonstone represented: New beginnings, inner growth, and strength.
I walked around the street market elated, on cloud nine as if I had just been proposed to by Channing Tatum. I stuck my hand under every light to catch a glimpse of the fiery blue hues trapped inside.
Back at the Airbnb, Jackie made us play Guess Up! which actually made me and her friend laugh hysterically at some points. After a few rounds, we got ready for bed because we had an early morning the next day; Jackie had booked a sound bath for us at 8am. The memory foam mattress was very comfortable and after a few minutes of scrolling, IG put me to sleep.
My bladder woke me up before 6am on Sunday morning. Before acquiescing to my body, images of my dream started replaying. I had dreamed I was flying over Joshua Tree, soaring over the rocky hills and cactus plains. I was nervous because a higher power was controlling my movements instead of me. Always in the upright position, I initially flew backwards. The moment the speed started to increase, I told the invisible superpower, “Don’t go fast, please don’t go fast.” I don’t like roller coasters with drops because I feel like my heart and insides are going to come out of my mouth, like I can’t breathe. I don’t know if that’s a normal reaction but it’s enough to keep me away from theme parks, thus saving me lots of money and time standing in lines. But I digress. I feared that free-fall feeling you experience when you dream that you fall off a high-rise and wake up before you hit the ground. I had that recurring dream as a child living in an apartment building and had zero desire to start dreaming it again. The force acceded to my wish and planted me on top of a jumbo rock from where I saw coyotes, bunnies, and goats down below. Then my body started floating again, this time at an angle, but I could only focus on the speed. Every time I would start to catch momentum, my desires to slow down were thankfully considered. During my last flight, I flew over a wounded rabbit. He had bite marks and blood on the lower half of his body. He was still alive, making his way to shelter, I assumed, but it was a stark reminder of how only the fittest survive. Although there was no one else in my dream, I asked the invisible entity if the bunny had been in a fight. A voice explained that the rabbit had been a victim of prey and pointed to a puddle of blood where the incident had taken place.
I recounted my dream to the girls in the morning as we all readied for the sound bath. Without hesitation, Jackie said the moonstone had evoked my lucid dream. I looked at my magical ring in my traveling jewelry case and thought of Esmeralda, wondering if she too embodied supernatural capabilities. I had never believed in the power of stones or rocks or gems but I had definitely felt a strong connection to this particular one the moment I laid eyes on it. I was convinced that my new moonstone had a superpower, the superpower to make me airy, happy, and free. I intended to wear it for my sound bath to further elicit good vibes and new otherworldly experiences.
