Obsidian, So-Called Crystal Healing, Therianthropy, and Me

I'm sitting here at the computer in my pajamas, staring at the rain outside. It stopped raining a while ago, but there's wet everywhere. I'm watching the computer screen.

I am bidding on a piece of rainbow obsidian at eBay. The crystal healers say that obsidian keeps so-called negative energy away. That it protects, and grounds you, but that you mustnít use too much of it or it drains you; that it brings silence and wisdom.

Skepticism is normally my rule of thumb. The only bit of crystal-New-Age-fluff I subscribe to is that hematite enhances memory, and I don't really believe in that, I just like the heavy feeling of hematite in my pocket before a test.

But obsidian--that's a bit hard for me to form an opinion on. Silent? Solitary? Protective? Sharp? That's me they're talking about.

It feels weird to see my personality enclosed in a single, sharp, glassy black stone. So maybe I ought to hang around with obsidian for a bit? Practice shifting with it in my hand?

I really don't know if this is a coincidence. You know, I used to call myself Obsidian. Then I stopped, because it seemed too much like an unsuiting title. A bit presumptuous perhaps? Where am I even going here?

I turn my head and look at half-real rings of fur on my skin. They are black against gold--obsidian. In two minutes the eBay auction will end. I think I have won. Crystal healing and therianthropy really don't seem to mix.

My human body is like obsidian: perhaps it enhances the stone with its dark sharp gloss, but underneath it is something more, something alien. Something that protects, grounds, silences, and brings wisdom. And my human body enhances me (a great deal, or I would not be typing this) but inside there are qualities which, seemingly, do not fit the body they come in.

Or so the crystal healers say.

—Quil

go back