Rose, Green Amethyst, and the Forgotten Art of Receiving

"Your task is not to seek for love, but merely to seek and find all the barriers within yourself that you have built against it."— Rumi

This weekend I had the privilege of spending several uninterrupted days with my four-year-old grandson while my oldest daughter facilitated her first yoga retreat in Mount Shasta.

Watching my daughter step into her own leadership was one of those quiet moments that marks a transition in life. As a mother, teacher, and mentor, there was something profoundly satisfying about stepping back and allowing someone else to hold the space. It reminded me that stewardship is not about creating followers. It is about tending the garden well enough that others naturally begin to bloom.

Meanwhile, life at the cabin looked very different.

There were fishing poles, squirt guns, water balloon fights, s'mores around the fire, and all the simple joys that come from seeing the world through the eyes of a child.

One moment, in particular, has stayed with me.

We found a quiet place beside the river where years of flowing water had carved smooth pools into the volcanic rock. My grandson climbed into one of the warm depressions in the stone, stretched out his arms, closed his eyes, and simply rested.

He wasn't trying to meditate.

He wasn't practicing grounding techniques.

He wasn't regulating his nervous system.

He simply received.

He received the warmth of the Earth beneath him.

He received the sound of the flowing river.

He received the sunshine on his face.

Watching him, I realized something.

Perhaps embodiment is not about learning something new.

Perhaps it is about remembering something very old.

The Medicine of Rose

This week I've been spending time with Rose.

Many people know Rose for her beauty, but what draws me to her is something much deeper.

To me, Rose embodies the frequency of Love.

Not romantic love.

Not sentimental love.

The kind of love that gently brings us back into relationship with our own heart.

People often focus on the thorns, but I don't believe the thorns are the lesson.

The lesson is that Rose never abandons her own nature in order to remain open.

Her boundaries simply protect her capacity to continue blooming.

Healthy boundaries are not barriers to love.

They create the safety that allows love to remain present.

Prasiolite or Green Amethyst teaches that true abundance is the ability to open your heart and learn to receive!

The Medicine of Green Amethyst

I've also been reflecting on Green Amethyst, or Prasiolite.

I was fascinated to learn that it begins as purple amethyst before being transformed through intense heat into its beautiful green form.

What a remarkable metaphor.

Many of us spend years seeking spiritual wisdom, collecting books, attending workshops, and searching for the next breakthrough.

But eventually there comes a point when wisdom asks to become embodied.

Not simply understood.

Lived.

Green Amethyst reminds me that true transformation isn't about acquiring more knowledge.

It is about allowing what we already know to become woven into the way we live.

Perhaps that is why Green Amethyst is so often associated with the heart.

An open heart is not simply one that loves.

It is one that knows how to receive.

Receiving as a Spiritual Practice

We live in a culture that celebrates striving.

We're taught to work harder.

Learn more.

Heal faster.

Manifest bigger.

But what if abundance isn't something we create?

What if abundance is something we finally become capable of receiving?

My grandson didn't have to learn how to receive the warmth of the Earth.

He simply trusted it.

Somewhere along the way, many of us forget how.

We become so busy protecting ourselves that we accidentally close the very doors through which love, beauty, joy, and peace are trying to enter.

Perhaps this is what Rumi was inviting us to consider when he wrote:

"Your task is not to seek for love, but merely to seek and find all the barriers within yourself that you have built against it."

Maybe the journey isn't about becoming more spiritual.

Maybe it is about gently removing the barriers that keep us from receiving what has always been present.

An Invitation

This week, I invite you to spend a few quiet moments in relationship with the natural world.

Hold a rose if one is available.

Sit with a piece of Green Amethyst if you have one.

Or simply place your hand over your heart.

Take a slow breath in.

Exhale slowly and completely.

Allow your shoulders to soften.

Then ask yourself:

What am I being invited to receive today?

You may discover that your body, your heart, and your spirit have known the answer all along.

With gratitude,

Dr. Tonya Elliott

Soul Garden Wellness