Three Kinds of Stones: What Hinders, Grounds, and Guides Your Journey

Glimpse Ahead: The trail we walk is never just about distance. It’s shaped by what we notice, what we carry, and what we choose to mark. Stones are not just obstacles in our path, they are meanings, memories, and messages. They’re weathered by time and transformed by presence. In this reflection, I explore the soulful symbolism of Stones: what we carry, what we stumble over, and what we place with intention. And maybe, you’ll notice that the stones beneath our feet are also within us.

When the Trail Speaks in Stones

You’re walking a trail you’ve never taken before. Woods on both sides. The path is uneven, scattered with leaves and old roots. Then there’s a fork, a choice to be made.

No signs. No map. But just ahead, someone placed a cairn: a small, deliberate stack of stones on a flat rock. It doesn’t tell you where to go. But it tells you someone stood here. Someone made a decision. Someone marked this moment. In that instant, something shifts. You feel less alone.

Stones have that power. They ground us. Mark us. Reflect us. Speak back to us.

In this space, Stones are more than what we stumble over. They are the elemental pieces of our story. Some we carry. Some we trip over. Some we polish through time. Some we place as symbols of what we’ve learned, what we’ve let go, or what we now hold sacred.

A Cairn, here, is not just a hiker’s marker. It’s a moment of inner integration. A soulful monument to lived meaning.

You build one when you pause long enough to realize:

• This was hard… and I made it through.

• This taught me something I want to remember.

• This truth is mine now. I will place it here.

A cairn is what happens when memory meets intention. It is when experience becomes architecture. Sometimes it is for you. Sometimes it’s for someone who comes after. But always it is an indication of presence.

Stones We Carry

Some stones stay with us. We pick them up early. They are the beliefs, habits, inherited stories, formative moments. Others come later: a role we’ve taken on, a vow we’ve made, a truth earned through struggle.

These stones live in our psychological backpack. Some give us strength. Some weigh us down more than we realize.

Carrying a stone isn’t always a burden. It can be a sacred commitment. It can be a polished gem of experience. A symbol of continuity, caring, or hope. But every now and then, it’s worth asking:

Is this stone still mine to carry?
Has it served its season?
Is it a diamond I’ve shaped… or a burden I no longer need?

Some stones change, while others never do. Some stones grow smoother over time. Some splinter, forming jagged edges. Others just need to be set down by the trail, with reverence, so the path becomes lighter.

Stones We Stumble Over

These are the ones we usually don’t choose, at least not consciously. These stones are the half-buried traumas, the inner scripts formed in pain, the conclusions we drew to stay safe. I’m not enough. I can’t trust anyone. I always mess things up. They often sit quietly in the path, covered by leaves perhaps, invisible until we trip. And trip again. Until life pauses us and says: Look.

Stumbling is not failure. It’s an invitation. It’s how the soul asks us to see what’s buried.

Sometimes these stones are beliefs we outgrew but never questioned. Sometimes they are sharp edges we keep stepping on. Sometimes they are just heavy, and we don’t know why. They are burdensome. Not because we want this, but because part of us is still walking old terrain, not yet seeing that we’re exploring somewhere new. Choose to notice that there is wisdom in the bruise. There is wisdom in what we fail to see. Invite the insight waiting to arise in the interruption. These stones often shift us the most, not because we chose them, but because we finally chose to face them.

Stones We Place (Cairns)

These are the stones of conscious, soulful meaning. Moments we choose to mark, wisdom we embrace. Lessons we decide to remember. Ideas we rearrange into soulful companions. They are truths that change us. Placing a stone is an act of reverence. It says:

This mattered.
This is mine.
This belongs on the trail.

Sometimes you place a stone when you no longer need to carry it, but don’t want to forget it. You place it when a hardship becomes a milestone. You place it when presence and reflection turn to insight. Here and now, you want to leave a marker, for yourself or another.

Cairns are not just about direction. They’re about declaration. Each one is a stack of soul-formed meaning. A layered truth compressed like a crystal through time and pressure.

They become inner landmarks. They become reference points. They become guides pointing us in a new direction. They become trail signs of transformation.

The Soul’s Trail Is Made of Stones

Your trail is already filled with stones.
Some you’ve walked past for years.
Some you’ve carried in silence.
Some you’ve only just begun to notice.

But the deeper truth is:
Each stone is a moment.
A moment you stumbled.
A moment you rested.
A moment you decided to remember.
A moment of clarity and resolve.
Invariably a moment that mattered.
A moment shaped by time, pressure, and presence…
Just like you.

Stones endure. They don’t need to shout.
They just… are.

So pause and reflect, when you can.
Touch what you’re carrying.
See what you’ve stumbled over.
Honor what you’ve placed.

And when it’s time…
Place the next stone.
Make it a marker.
Make it a message.
Make it yours.

Stones can be tools for transformation.
Stones can be resources for becoming.
Stones can be soulful guides, leading us toward
Wholeness, resonance, and the path ahead.
Choose the stones to cherish and…
Make them yours.

~ Rich Liotta, Ph.D.

This post is one of three core reflections introducing the heart of Steps, Stones, and Soul; exploring how we move through life, what shapes us, and who we can become.

Read What We Carry, How We Move: here

Read Soulfulness: Living with Depth, Meaning, and Inner Radiance: here