I’ve been learning about labyrinths. And when I try to talk about them, people ask, “You mean like a maze?”<\/p>\n
No, a maze has dead ends. Mazes want to fool you–to frustrate and make fun of you.<\/p>\n
I don’t like being mocked. Labyrinths have no dead ends. They are a winding, unhindered path.<\/p>\n
Unhindered.<\/p>\n
About 2 years ago I felt closed in. Everywhere I turned was a block on my path.<\/p>\n
My job was a trap. No way to succeed.<\/p>\n
And my home after the job was a maze of family obligations: the daughter, the dog, and all the dirty dishes.<\/p>\n
My blood pressure rising, which stressed me out and made my blood pressure rise. Unhealthy cycle.<\/p>\n
Turning and turning in the widening gyre<\/a> At the time I decided I would give my heart a break.<\/p>\n I got up early in the morning, leaving behind a broken hearted dog and ran.<\/p>\n It was addictive–going at my own pace, and feeling my own strength.<\/p>\n I ran every single day. Seven days a week for about 9 months.<\/p>\n I hit a dead end. Crime put up a hindrance on my route.<\/p>\n I thought about my time of running when I was walking labyrinths this weekend. Many people slowly walk them, and when I watch them I assume they are likely getting more out of the experience than I am.<\/p>\n My pace is one with purpose. Wherever I go. I am most at ease when I am energetically in motion. For example, I feel so unbelievably free and creative on public transportation.<\/p>\n I’ve encountered labyrinths here and there, and they pull me in. They just feel right. Walking them, I see myself and chuckle.<\/p>\n See, even when the way is clear, I want to push it and rush it and GET TO THAT GOAL.<\/p>\n Life isn’t like that. The goal isn’t that. My running–the goal of what that time was–wasn’t what I imagined while I was doing it. Goals have a way of shifting unpredictably. I have some trouble with unpredictable.<\/p>\n I seldom trust the path in life. Even when it’s been completely unhindered, I anguish against how long it’s taking and the turns that seem off track.<\/p>\n I trust a labyrinth in a way that I don’t trust most of life. They labyrinth promises a path.<\/p>\n So I experience the labyrinth as a lab exercise in trust. What it is like to know for a contiguous period of time that I will be alright, that I am on the right path.<\/p>\n I trust the labyrinth, and yet I’m so used to second guessing and jockeying for something better or for self-protection, I can’t lay it down even in the guaranteed safe. So I laugh at myself. And I see how I could lighten up in the rest of my life.<\/p>\n The unhindered path is there. Even if I don’t see it.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" I’ve been learning about labyrinths. And when I try to talk about them, people ask, “You mean like a maze?” No, a maze has dead ends. Mazes want to fool you–to frustrate and make fun of you. I don’t like … Continue reading
\n The falcon cannot hear the falconer;<\/a>
\n Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;<\/a>
\n Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,<\/a><\/p>\n
\nWith labyrinths, like most of my life, I appear to be non-traditional. I attack the labyrinth with a purpose. The labyrinth is twisty, arcing path. It lends itself to ponderance.<\/p>\n