It’s a shiny rock, what’s not to like?
I fucking adore amethysts. I don’t care what their “meaning” is…magpie brain like pretty purple rock. Adorn self with rocks. Be cute.
Hee hee hoo hoo shiny rock
Honestly I do like knowing the ‘meanings’ of gemstones but I think of them as less a thing they ‘do’ and more like you know. The meanings of flowers. Like, amethyst means peace and calm. Having one isn’t going to magically heal my anxiety sure that’d just be silly but I like that I can give a pretty purple rock to a friend as a way of saying ‘I hope you have a nice chill time today’ just like you would with flower language. Especially since saying the same thing with flower language would use lavender and a lot of people I know are allergic to that so here have a purple rock instead
the only medicinal properties crystals have is “I did not previously own a shiny rock but now I do :)”
Unless it is specifically rock salt. Then you can also add ‘mmm tastey’ to the list.
Then a distant shuffling was born in the heavy silence. It turned out to belong to a very old woman who appeared, at first sight, to be as dusty as the rocks she, presumably, sold. Vimes had his doubts even about that. Shops like this one often looked upon the selling of merchandise as, in some way, a betrayal of a sacred trust. As if to underline this, she was carrying a club with a nail in it.
When she was close enough for conversation, Vimes said: “I’ve come here to—”“Do you believe in the healing power of crystals, young man?”snapped the woman, raising the club threateningly.
“What? What healing power?”said Vimes. The old woman gave him a cracked smile, and dropped the club.
“Good,”she said. “We like our customers to take their geology seriously. We’ve got some trollite in this week.”
-Terry Pratchett, “Thud!”