Abundance

The word comes from the Latin abundantia — a flowing over, an overflow. But the traditions that use it most often mean something quieter: not wealth in the modern sense, but sufficiency felt from the inside. Enough food, enough warmth, enough belonging.

Abundance as a practice begins with attention. The tradition suggests choosing one moment each day to notice something ordinary — a meal shared, a door that opened, a moment of unexpected rest. These are not small things; what we notice tends to grow. In the yogic map this quality gathers around Manipura, the solar plexus chakra: the seat of personal power, good digestion in every sense, and the confidence that there is enough.

The stones the tradition gathers here are warm-coloured ones: citrine, amber, golden tiger's eye, green aventurine, pyrite with its muted shine. Citrine above all — the stone medieval lapidaries called the merchant's stone, kept near the till not as magic but as a physical reminder of the intention. Return to it, the tradition suggests, and name what is going well.

Warm scents belong in this register: ginger, cardamom, sweet orange, a little cinnamon. Anything that smells like preparation rather than waste — the kitchen before guests arrive, the market in the morning.

The objects do nothing by themselves. But a stone kept where you will see it, a candle lit with a named intention, becomes a small daily appointment with noticing. The practice is yours. The objects are where you place it.

Below: the catalogue's abundance shelf — stones, scents and small objects for the work of noticing.