Labyrinth: An Experience
In this article, parishioner Roma offers a reflection on Labyrinth walking:
I started walking labyrinths about 20 years ago and I was hooked. The first time, I was concerned about doing it correctly, but once I accepted that there is no right way to walk a labyrinth, I relaxed. My mind began to wander, and all kinds of thoughts ran through my head. I would switch my attention from thoughts to watching one foot step in front of the other. As I walked the labyrinth, I noticed that, at some moments, I’d be out at the edge and at other times, I’d be close to the centre. Then, after a few steps, I’d be back out at the edge again. I wasn’t quite sure how that was happening, but there was peace in knowing that all I had to do was keep moving, and there would be no obstacles in my way.
Arriving at the centre felt like a decision point. Paused there, I prayed for what I needed to answer, even if I couldn’t put that into words. I waited until I felt ready, and then I returned back through the labyrinth to the end/beginning. The metaphor of the labyrinth wasn’t lost on me. Walking toward the centre with detours that took me far away from the centre and then back towards it and far away again, reminded me of how life unfolds.
At different points in my life, I have turned to the labyrinth for guidance. Slowing down and paying attention to my footsteps, taking time out from the everyday world, focusing on what is troubling me or to clear my head with the intention of finding answers has always reaped benefits. I found the labyrinth particularly helpful to me after my Mum died 11 years ago. I would walk the labyrinth with a heavy heart, and somehow, in some way that I’m not entirely clear on, I would feel better by the time I emerged again. I couldn’t put words to how I felt but somewhere in the walking and the praying and slowing down and the quiet I found some peace.
The labyrinth continues to be a mystery to me, and I keep uncovering new insights by walking. I’ve found labyrinths in places I would never have imagined. I have walked outdoor labyrinths in Maui, Sydney (Australia), and in a tiny town outside Ottawa (Ontario). It is always a joy to find these places and stop and take the time to reflect.
The labyrinth is a meaningful spiritual practice for me, as are many other contemplative practices. I don’t feel like I need to be prepared with some question or intention, although sometimes that is useful. At this point, I trust that whatever I need to work out at that moment will come just by walking.
