I have a labyrinth in my garden. Unlike a maze, there is no frustration in walking it. There are no cul de sacs. Walking the labyrinth is very interesting when done with a degree of self-awareness. Do I spend my time looking at the weeds? How do I feel when the pathway leads me out and seemingly further away from my goal of arriving at the centre of the circle?

Each turning point tells a tale. What matters, what matters always, is to keep going. To take the next step. Turning around and exiting it without having completed it is not an option. The first time I ever walked a labyrinth I was struck that at one point, having walked for ages, I returned to a point only inches away from where I had started out from. As the crow flies, I was just as far away from my goal of arriving in the centre. However, the lesson for me that day was that while I seemed as far away in fact I had walked a long way and simply by taking the next step I would arrive before long at my goal.

Recently when I walked it again I was struck by the confusion one can feel in the middle of the pathway. One has been walking a long time and one still seems far from home. From this vantage point one can survey the varied directions one has come, forth and back, back and forth, turning points here, there and everywhere. It isn’t clear when I might arrive at my goal nor is it apparent if the route I have taken was walked as well as I might. There’s a sense of displacement. The is no guarantee of success. Yet, unless I keel over with a heart attack I have no intention of doing other than to proceed.

Walking a labyrinth can be a profound learning experience. Some might call it a spiritual experience. It is often a metaphor for how one treads through life. Lessons are to be learned, easily, for free. It’s as simle as putting one step in front of the other…