Hmm. I saw this quiz in jenk‘s journal, and I took it again on a whim.
Root: under-active (-25%)
Sacral: open (25%)
Navel: under-active (-19%)
Heart: under-active (0%)
Throat: open (56%)
Third Eye: open (19%)
Crown: under-active (0%)
Back on May 23, I had taken it and didn’t think it was very accurate.
Root: under-active (-56%)
Sacral: open (13%)
Navel: under-active (-6%)
Heart: under-active (-25%)
Throat: open (50%)
Third Eye: open (13%)
Crown: under-active (0%)
I had thought that I’d made changes that might give different results this time, and I have—if the test is valid at all, the results show some change towards openness for everything but the crown chakra.
I don’t know much about chakras in general, but that throat chakra seems to be the one that’s most active for me according to another online test, too—not terribly surprising for a writer, I suppose.
I have a crystal that came to me on a wholly unplanned shopping trip during a drive I didn’t intend to take and wasn’t sure why I did, in a shop I was never able to find again. It was on the north side of Roswell, but I couldn’t tell you much more. I did look for it again, though! This was back around 1989 or so. It’s clear quartz with one small flaw at the tip, and has seven bands with semi-precious stones set in them. It’s supposed to be a “chakra balancing crystal.” In any case, it was my favorite. Two years ago, I had a sudden whim and loaned it to a friend who was being stalked by a former SO. We’d just done a binding ceremony with him, and for some reason, it felt like he should wear it. He wore it for several weeks, and then it suddenly slipped right out of its bands right after he saw the former SO for the last time.
He returned it to me later, and I’ve kept it. I’d like to have it repaired, but most jewelry stores just seem the wrong place to take it for repair. I miss it.
I’ve enjoyed handling stones since I was a child. I had quite a rock collection when I was in elementary school—probably not impressive to anyone else, but they were all samples I’d found myself, none bought. I gave it to my brother and he tossed it later on (little shit). I especially loved obsidian—the way it would break, how sharp the edges were, the circular patterns… I found a lot of obsidian as a kid, although I was repeatedly told that it wasn’t possible for me to be finding obsidian in Alabama and Georgia because there’s never been any volcanic activity here. After I started listening to those people, I didn’t find any more. I wish I could forget what they said!
I remember loving to visit a lady who lived near Aunt Short because she had a bowl full of polished stones sitting on her coffee table. I could have run my hands through them and studied individual stones for hours. I wasn’t allowed to, though—she had a kid about my age, and I was supposed to be there playing with her. She was a brat, but I kept going back for the stones! I tried to explain how they all felt different, once—I didn’t make that mistake again.
My parents gave me a tumbler that year for Christmas. It was quickly relegated to Daddy’s workshop at the back edge of our yard, but it was still too loud there so I wasn’t allowed to use it but once. It disappeared after that. They still mention “that damned rock thing” from time to time.
