It was dusk and I worried that maybe I'd not have enough time to fully experience it. But I'd been here once before and made similar excuses. Why was I so hesitant? I was so full of all the things this experience "should" be and all the things this labyrinth "ought" to do for me that there wouldn't be much room for the experience to just be what it was going to be. Am I going to blog about this? Won't taking pictures negate the sacredness? Will openly writing about it tarnish the spiritual nature? On and on and on went my analytical wanderings. I had confessed to Syl, my yogi mentor that created this mystical labyrinth in her backyard, my tendency to over-analyze. I told her I wanted to be free to walk the labyrinth without expectation. She chuckled and said something like, "No need to worry about that, the labyrinth is designed to challenge that very thing. You'll want to go one way and it'll take you exactly the opposite. Just don't fight it. It's not a maze where you have to choose a path. Trust where it takes you." So here at the entrance, I removed my shoes and did my yoga: Inhale, let it gather up all those "shoulds" and "oughts" and "have to-s", exhale. My walking prayer began.
There's something to be said about trust. I would find myself so close to the center, separated only by one little row of stones. The tall grass was tickling my skin as I brushed by it, closer than I'd ever been, until the path turned. One might think, I'm going the wrong way. Trust. No, this is good. Sometimes you have to have your back on the target, you know what I mean? Then, I'm walking along the perimeter, feeling so far away from it all. One sharp turn. I'm there. What? How can that be? Just moments ago I was...over there...I was...alone, drifting. So far, and yet so close.Standing in the center, wanting to lift off the ground, I think I did. I didn't know that holding so much could feel so light.
It was time to step out. I stood at the exit, which had only moments before been the entrance. Now it was my turn to chuckle. You mean I have to come out the way I just came in? The answer settled upon me, "The path is the same, but you're different." So is the path really the same anymore? Hello paradox.
I was smiling and happy, taking my time with each step, winding my way out. First I was singing in my head. Soon I was humming. Then all at once I was singing out loud and proud:
"It's by far the hardest thing I've ever done
To be so in love with you and so alone
Follow me where I go, what I do, who I know
Make it part of you to be a part of me
Follow me up and down all the way and all around
Take my hand and say you'll follow me"
Where was this coming from? Why now, John? The words just kept coming:
"It's long been on my mind you know it's been a long, long time
I'll try to find the way that I can make you understand
The way I feel about you and just how much I need you
To be there where I can talk to you when there's no one else around
Follow me where I go what I do, who I know
Make it part of you to be a part of me
Follow me up and down all the way and all around
Take my hand and say you'll follow me"
And by this point, I said aloud, "I hear you!":
You see, I'd like to share my life with you and show you things I've seen
Places that I'm going to places where I've been
To have you there beside me and never be alone
And all the time that you're with me then we will be at home
Follow me where I go what I do, who I know
Make it part of you to be a part of me
Follow me up and down all the way...
Take my hand and I will follow you"
--John Denver, "Follow Me"
It was a mediocre experience. It was a sublime, ineffable experience. I suppose I'm leaning on Dickens a bit there. I mean to say that the act of walking the labyrinth in and of itself is a very simple, seemingly mindless activity (if you're willing to turn down the analyze slide bar). Yet, within that simple act, something truly miraculous opens up within you. I don't mean to ascribe too much "power" to the labyrinth itself. I don't see it as a magical panacea that absolves all worldly strife and takes you in a straight shot to nirvana. But in another sense, it's like this magical panacea that absolves all worldly strife and takes you in a straight shot to nirvana...at least for a little while. You get to taste it. And return to it as often as you'd like. It's as magical and mystical as prayer is, for the labyrinth is truly a walking prayer wheel. Prayer in and of itself is powerful, but match that with pure intention and that's when you achieve the sublime and ineffable.
P.S. Just for fun, click play below.
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