Tuesday, March 1, 2016

March 1, 2016 - The Labyrinth


I tried to hide behind the post and the trellis.  Can you see my shadow on the left and the shadow of the small shed on the right?  We are overshadowing a labyrinth, which I walked before snapping this photo.  You never know what you will find in Maine, and I am continually surprised by the people here.  This is not located in a big center of town or at a large meeting place.  This is just something someone made, and I happened upon it by accident.

I don’t think anyone was around when I walked the labyrinth.  It took longer than I thought it would; it always does.  At first I kept looking over my shoulder to see if anyone would spot me being me, but no one was there.  If the deer saw me, they said nothing.  But as usual, the labyrinth pulled my mind in and forced me to concentrate only on what I was doing--walking to the center, around and around.

The labyrinth.

The goal is the center and meditation is what gets you there, even though you might think it’s your feet that get you to the center.  It’s an odd thing, the labyrinth.  You begin to walk it, and it appears as though you are going straight to the center.  Suddenly, you find yourself off course, going away from the center.  You find yourself going outward, then back inward, and then back outward yet again.  Each time, though, you spiral a little closer to the center . . . hovering.

It takes patience to get to the center and a willingness to feel hopelessly lost.  Once the center is achieved, of course, there is nowhere to go but back to the beginning.  So we finally end where we began, but we are not the same.  You can choose to walk the labyrinth or you can choose to stand firmly in one spot.  Either way, you end up standing in the same spot.  But he who chooses the labyrinth chooses a hidden rhythm that can be felt thereafter but never seen.

Give me the twisted, winding path of the labyrinth.  Let me lose myself in the pilgrimage designed to help me find myself.