Moving on to the metaphor. Igneous simply means something produced under intense heat. I'm
Here ya go. A pretty flower to stare at while I'm gone.
Where was I? Oh, the metaphor. Think of my mom's uterus as the igneous formation (enough thinking, I'm getting freaked out again). The foreign body would be me. I've been told I'm an old soul by people who know. Trust me on this one—it's happened so many times, it just has to be true. Meanwhile, back in my mom's uterus, my xenolithic little old soul was surrounded by fluid for 9 happy months. Then came the day when I was unceremoniously shoved out into the glaring light of the world.
As a xenocrystic child, I was cocooned in the bosom of my family. Later I was ensconced in the land of learning. All of my life I've been surrounded by fluid motion of newer souls with strange ideas, dogmatic proclamations, and just plain old bullshit. Trying to maneuver through this morass of effluvium proved too much for me. Over time, I simply collapsed in on myself. I was no longer a xenocryst or even a xenolith.
Recovering even some of the innate xenolithic wisdom has taken years to accomplish. I've reached a point in my growth that I'm finally back to the xenocrystic state. Still learning and growing to become fully formed in preparation for the next state of being.
One thing I do remember is that deep down within each one of us lies a heart seeking peace.
We each have one. Sometimes we just need to be reminded.