Below is the transcript of my second dictated seer stone experience.
Daniel removes his glasses and looks at the stone, approximately one foot from his eyes.
I see a little boy, seven and half years old. It is summer time.
He is with his dad and his best friend at the Kodak store, waiting in line to pick up pictures. He doesn’t know that his best friend will soon be moving away. He sees the displays of trinkets next to the checkout. There is row of necklaces—clunky teardrop prisms on cheap black strings. He takes one and it sits in his hand like a crystal. He doesn’t know what acrylic is yet.
He sees it for what it is: magic.
The boy asks his dad to buy two, one for his best friend and one for himself. He wears it everyday over ill-fitting neon t-shirts, cut-off shorts, his cub scout uniform, even the Sunday clothes he wears to church. Church, where he finds out his best friend’s family will be moving. The Bishop announces it from the pulpit, but he refuses to raise his hand with the congregation.
After the move, he holds the crystal and talks to his best friend. He knows he can hear him because the crystal is magic.
Summer ends, and the boy turns eight. He must go back to school, but he can’t wear his crystal there. The other boys will make fun of him for it. They will tell him that it’s jewelry. They will tell him that it’s girly. They will tell him that it’s not magic.
So he takes off the necklace. And this is the kind of crystal you will lose if you don’t wear it every day.
I see a gray stone—round, but not a circle. There is a white line that runs through it, but only on one side.
I see a young man. He is with his best friend on a beach in Sandwich, Massachusetts. They pick up the rocks on the beach. He sees the gray stone, and it fits perfectly in the palm of his hand. It is the most ordinary rock on the beach, but he sees it for what it is.
But it is his best friend who says, “It’s magic.”
He smiles, and they laugh.
He won’t lose this stone.
Daniel’s fingers shake quietly. He replaces his glasses.