When most people hear of a labyrinth they think of a maze but they are not the same thing. A maze is a puzzle to be solved using logic to navigate the turns and blind alleys to find the right path. A labyrinth has only one path. It is unicursal. The way in is also the way out. There are various labyrinths that have evolved over time, with the most well known being the Cretan, Medieval, Classic and Chatres patterns.
Labyrinths have been found in all cultures and continents since 2500BC. Greeks, Romans, Egyptians, Indians, Mayans, Europeans, Africans, Australians and Native Americans have all discovered the pattern of the labyrinth at some time and it has been adopted as a sacred symbol by many religions as a metaphor of a spiritual journey.
A labyrinth is an ancient and archetypal symbol related to wholeness. It combines the imagery of the circle and the spiral into a meandering but purposeful path that we can walk. It’s a physical metaphor for life’s journey, the journey each of us makes to our deepest self and back out again out into the world, usually with a renewed understanding. When walking a maze, you make decisions at each turn. A labyrinth offers only one choice. Will I enter or not?
I’ve walked a labyrinth several times and each journey is different. I’ve walked alone, slowly and quietly. I’ve taken thoughts in with me and left them behind. I’ve walked with others. I’ve sat at the entry and decided not to walk. I’ve walked in grieving and come out lighter. I’ve walked in with expectation and come out empty handed. I’ve stomped my way through anger sometimes. I’ve let someone else set the pace. I’ve sat down in the middle. I’ve been bored.
I’ve paused before exiting deliberately trying to hold my new perspective as I return to my world. I’ve shuffled past people along the way or had them overtake me. I’ve kept a steady rhythm or varied my pace. I experienced nothing but frustration. I’ve felt lost even on a one way path. I’ve experienced an intangible force that has united me with the greater scheme of things, anchored me to heaven and to earth. Each time, it’s a new experience and teaches me something.
To me it’s a physical meditation, my eyes are open, I soon find a rhythm, I am moving yet feel more still as the journey goes on, it connects me to the sacred in a simple but mysterious way and reminds me the sacred cannot be confined to a particular place or building or culture or religion.
The decision to enter the labyrinth is a metaphor for our spiritual and sacred journey – and that decision is not always easy. If you get the opportunity to walk a labyrinth, it will transform you in some way, if you let it. You don’t need to know much more than this to begin, there is no right or wrong way to ‘do it’. That is the wonder of the labyrinth, and again reflects our journey of life.
I love the circular patterns of the labyrinth. It’s a reminder that life twists and turns, life is not a straight path. It doubles back on itself, takes us where we don’t expect to go, sends us back along the same way sometimes, offers a new perspective, and frustrates us with its long way around.
But it also allows us to go at our own pace, to experience a new angle at every turn, to rest in the centre of ourselves and take an all around view. It encourages us to move forward, keep going, turn, breathe, rest, retreat and return. Every journey is different. It brings balance and calms the soul. And that feels like life to me.
A fantastic online Labyrinth is available too. It is quite simple to use and recreates the Virtual Walk of the Chartres pattern found on the floor of the Chartres Cathedral in France (see photo above). When we’re busy, tired and don’t have time to slow down, these online paths are a real challenge. Maybe that’s just what we need… Let me know what you find or lose on your journey.
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