I came upon the stone after walking my whole life. When I reached it, I was surprised at how big it was. I looked up at this giant head of stone and it looked down at me and spoke.

"Why did you come here." the stone asked.

"To change you."

The stone laughed at me. "I have been here since you've known how to know. The earth has fallen away and yet I rise up. I am fundamental. How is it that you intend to change me."

I held up my hand. In my hand was a piece of sandpaper.

The stone told me to knock myself out.

I climbed the craggy sides and scrambled to its bulbous head. I began sanding until my hand grew sore. Then I sanded until my other was tired. I sweat. Years went by, and yet I made no progress. So I sat in the shadow of the stone on the ground and wept. I wept for months, hating the that fact I couldn't fix the fissure and imperfections.

Until one day I looked up and realized that it was fine the way it was. More than fine, it's was beautiful. It was essential because it was what it was and always had been.

Now I know that I'll never leave this rock. Come visit me. I'll be sitting under it, in the sun.