After the TLS gathering in Indiana recently, I was really excited to make the labyrinth a daily part of my life. I don’t have easy access to a walking labyrinth, but I have a wooden lap labyrinth that I purchased in 1999. First I had to find it, then I had to clean it as thoroughly as possible. On inspection, I found a crack forming on one side and the finish didn’t have the same smooth feel I once remembered. There was a certain amount of apprehension on my part to sit with it and actually run my fingers along its roughened path. Once I began my ‘new’ journey, tears started to well up. I was coming home and once again leaving home all at the same time.
My beautiful labyrinth and I survived a devastating house fire three years ago. Most of my possessions were lost, but a few remained by some miracle and my labyrinth made it, not unscathed, but functional and dare I say with more meaning and power.
When I look at this beautiful tool of journey, I can’t help but think of the path it has represented in my life. It has been pristine in its origin, a tool of reflection, meditative prayer, decoration, healing and enlightenment through the years. My labyrinth feels like an ancient Grandmother. It has stood the path of life and remains with me not only as a representation of the past, but also as a doorway to the future. It has the scars upon its face, but it’s beauty and function have increased and best of all, the heart of its message remains steadfast, filled with hope and alive to what lies ahead and for this I am deeply grateful.