This is not the same thing as a maze. A maze is an external challenge– can you remember where the dead-ends were in order to find your way back out again. A labyrinth is an internal challenge.
As you wend your way through the measured turns of concentricity, you unburden yourself of whatever hindrances block your heart. You reach the center. You have wound your way through the intricacies, the eccentricities, the encumbrances to the essence of you. There is clarity here, and stillness. As you gather these thoughts to begin your return journey you have freedom, a peace.
Some labyrinths are outlined by concrete walls, or patterns on the ground, or small hedges. The labyrinth I walked was planted in wildflowers. It was early morning, before 7, and a heavy dew had fallen during the night…
This labyrinth is at a conference center in a small Abbey in rural South Carolina. There is not much interfering noise, only the songs of cicadas, crickets, and far enough from the Cooper River so as not to hear early fishermen on their forays out for the day, just flowers, fox tail, ornamental grasses, the odd dragonfly