In the midst of life’s uncertainties, what brings you peace and joy?
One of my favorite things to do, especially in the Duluth summertime, is to walk an outdoor labyrinth at the McCabe Renewal Center close to where I live. Sister Teri Spinler, one of the Benedictine sisters at St. Scholastica Monastery, tends this labyrinth of grass and wild daisies and I am grateful for her faithful work. The labyrinth definitely is a “happy place” in this community for me, a seven-circuit sacred path where I consciously meet the present moment and find peace.
My first walk on a labyrinth took place on a June afternoon seven years ago at Grace Cathedral in San Francisco. Grace Cathedral has two eleven-circuit labyrinths—exactly like the twelfth century design on the floor of the famous Chartres Cathedral in France—and the labyrinth I like walking best is the stone labyrinth outside. Before visiting Grace Cathedral, my experiences with labyrinths had been confined to meditating with paper or wooden labyrinths which means I was “walking” through the labyrinths by tracing with a pencil on paper or my finger on wood. When I finally used my legs for the walking, I found myself inside a much-needed and surprising whole body prayer.
Whenever I enter a labyrinth, no matter whether it’s made of stone or grass and no matter how many circuits it has, the first circuit takes me close to the heart of the circle—just where I want to be—but the eternal lesson is that right then I am actually the farthest distance from the center. The second equally important lesson comes during the last steps of the journey when I’m feeling the most distant from my goal…I’m walking on the very outside of the labyrinth—what looks like far, far away from the center spot—and then in just a couple quick turns I surprise myself every time to find I’ve arrived once again inside the heart of that small sweet circle.
Sometimes I walk the labyrinth as a way to practice the presence of God for myself, but this week I’ve been walking for friends who need healing energy or extra support for the challenges of life. Saturday’s walk was for a friend’s healing; a misty rain was falling as my husband and I made our way on the path, the soft healing kind of rain that is so lovely to experience and so hard to come by. My walk yesterday included seven circuits for a friend carrying heavy burdens at work. As I walked through the labyrinth thinking of her, I could hear the sound of the wind above me in the trees. I was moving in and out of tree shadows, but when I got to the heart of the labyrinth I was welcomed and warmed by the sun.
When I arrived at the top of the Grace Cathedral steps that first summer of labyrinth walking, the stone labyrinth was bathed in light. I flung myself into its circuits right away, and I was walking too fast to be steady, wobbling into the heart of the labyrinth, sunshine on my face. I came to that labyrinth many days in a row, trying to absorb everything I was learning and enjoying every minute. Just steps away from me in the cathedral garden on one of those days, I saw a thin ancient man practicing tai-chi in small and silent movements. He was in the shade and always will be, next to where the sweet flowers bloomed. There we were together in what some people would laughingly call a “happy place.” I think of him from time to time, wondering where he is now—he was very old and frail seven years ago—wondering if I will meet him again in the hereafter and if we will find a labyrinth and sweet flowers blooming nearby us world without end.
