I cannot believe that I haven’t written a post in over three months.  !  And, I must admit that, as far as the 365 Club goes, this month I have missed more days than I have walked.  When life gets busy, that is the time I most need to take time out to walk the labyrinth, and it is also the time I am least likely to do so.

However, in a few weeks my youngest son will be following his older brother’s footsteps and leaving a brick-and-mortar school for homeschooling.  Coincidentally, the location of his once-a-week homeschooling enrichment program is at St. Thomas Church, site of one of my favorite labyrinths.  As we transition him into homeschooling, one of my goals is to make labyrinth meditation an integral part of our daily lives.

 

 

 

 

On Sunday I joined The Labyrinth Society’s 365 Club.  I’ve committed to walking a labyrinth daily.  Since it rained that day, I walked a finger labyrinth.

I’ve been reading The Wisdom to Know the Difference by fellow Philadelphian Eileen Flanagan.  In her book, Eileen includes a meditation exercise, which I incorporated into my labyrinth walk today. 

Sitting in the darkness, I closed my eyes, relaxed, traced the familiar curves, and concentrated on my breathing.  As I breathed in, I murmured the word “courage.”  As I exhaled, I repeated the word “serenity,” as if I was exhaling all worry and stress. 

I was surprised by the deep emotions I felt as I concentrated on those two words.  As I arrived at the center of the labyrinth, it became clear to me that what I’d been lacking lately was courage.  I’ve been fearful of moving from where I am to where the Divine has been gently showing me I should be.

I’ve been fearful of how my religiously conservative mother and extended family will react to some of the decisions I’ve made within the past few years.  The inner struggle, the wrestling with what I’ve been conditioned to believe and what my heart is telling me, has been difficult, and the labyrinth at St. Thomas’ Episcopal Church in Blue Bell (PA) holds many of my tears.

It took courage for me to de-program years of teachings, but I’ve come to a place where I can accept myself fully and completely, knowing that I AM worthy, and realizing that the Almighty is a loving creator, not a jealous fire-and-brimstone god who is ready to throw me into a lake of fire. 

Why then don’t I have the courage to face my family and to accept the direction in which the Divine is leading me? 

“Courage . . . Serenity . . . Courage . . . Serenity.”  Powerful words, a powerful mantra.  It has opened up a flood of emotions with which I must grapple.  I am going to continue meditating on these two words during my labyrinth walks.

Now that summer is here, I would have thought that making time for walking labyrinths would be simpler. However, the excessive heat waves that have rolled across the East Coast this summer have succeeded in zapping me of energy, and I find myself making excuses for not walking a labyrinth.

This past week while swinging in a hammock at an idyllic vacation resort, I had to come to the realization that the heat was not the problem, the distance of the labyrinths were not the problems, but that lately I’ve been feeling that the Divine is moving me in a direction that seems counter to where I think I want to go. But by making excuses to stop and listen, I am avoiding listening to the God within.

Sometimes, this journey is difficult and pulls us out of our comfort zones. This is where I am at this moment. I am grateful to have discovered the labyrinth years ago as vehicle to move me onward in my spiritual journey.

No, I have not recently been stopped by the police for speeding, although I feel as if my life is going full speed ahead at the moment.  All three kids are involved in summer sports, and between driving them around, planning for vacations, shopping for camp supplies, having yard sales, and working, my days are packed.

This past week, I have driven daily past a church on whose grounds a labyrinth is installed.  Every time I’ve driven by, I’ve been rushing to drop my daughter off at gymnastics, or rushing in the other direction back to work.  Today, as I was nearing St. Dunstan’s,  I began to slow down.  A voice was telling me, “slow down, pull over, walk the labyrinth.”  However, the practical side of me was saying, “No, you’ll be late for work.”  The battle continued for a few moments until I pulled into the church parking lot.

I told myself that I would only follow the labyrinth’s path  into the center, and then walked directly out of the labyrinth from the center instead of following the path back out.  As I began my journey inward (literally and figuratively) I found myself calming and feeling less rushed.  I was overcome with a sense of relaxation and peace.

As I sat in the center, thoughts of slowing down kept popping up.  I allowed my mind and body to slow down.  It was in one of those moments that I knew that I would not rush to leave the labyrinth today.  Instead, I re-traced the familiar path on the way out.

 

A simple labyrinth drawn in mulch at a playground

 

Last night my daughter and I went to a playground I used to take the kids to when they were preschoolers. A picture vividly came to mind of my oldest son happily sliding down the slide, and I got teary reminiscing about their young childhood, and wishing back those innocent, carefree days.  I was surprised at how close to the surface my emotions were as I begged time to stand still, knowing all the while that we were all on a forward march through life. There are no “do-overs,” no going back.

As I sat watching my daughter swinging from the monkey bars, I absentmindedly made a labyrinth in the mulch.  I traced and re-traced the lines and curves, at first wondering how many more years my children would enjoy going to playgrounds.  Wondering whether a day would come when I would drive past a playground and wistfully wish I had a child to hold hands with as we swung side-by-side on the swings.  The lines got darker as I dug deeper and deeper tracing over and over in an almost trance-like state…tears falling freely down my face and into the mulch below.  Without realizing it at first, I began repeating silently “enjoy now, enjoy now, enjoy now.”

When I realized the words I was saying, I laughed at myself and with myself.  “Enjoy now,” I whispered as I dried my face and looked around.  I got up and walked over to a vacant swing next to the swing occupied by my daughter Lauren, sat down and began to swing.

Without saying a word, Lauren reached out her hand and I caught hers in mine. Silently, we swung side-by-side, holding hands.

 

Finger Labyrinth

 

I’ve always enjoyed the full-body experience of walking a labyrinth, especially ones outdoors.  However, this past week, the weather has been either rainy and dreary, or hot and humid, and my days seem busier than ever as we are approaching the end of another school year.

So I pulled out a finger labyrinth.  What is a finger labyrinth?  The one I’ve been using this week is a six-inch plastic circle with a blue seven-circuit classical labyrinth etched into it.  It is one of two finger labyrinths I own, and the one I use most often because the etched path allows me to meditate with my eyes closed, and just feel the curves.

The more accustomed I get to using finger labyrinths, the more I appreciate their simplicity and accessibility.  I find the act of “doing something” while meditating allows my mind to focus more intently, and I become less distracted by what is going on around me.

Tonight, my sons’ track team is hosting a fundraiser based on the popular television show, The Biggest Loser.  In three hours, I am supposed to get on a scale in front of friends and acquaintances, and hope that six weeks from today the numbers on the scale will be lower.  I would be lying if I said that I had not experienced anxiety over this.  I am not a thin woman by any stretch of the imagination.  I am a woman with curves…many curves!

As I walked the labyrinth this week, tonight weighed heavily on my mind.  As I walked, something drew my attention to the hourglass shapes separating the curved sections.  I stopped and looked around and recognized that those shapes formed a cross through the labyrinth.  I thought, “I guess my my shape and my curves are my cross to bear.”  I walked to the center of the labyrinth and walked around, stopping at each of the “flower petals” that ring the center.  At the first petal, tears sprung to my eyes, at the second petal I thought “this is beautiful,”  by the time I reached the last petal I heard, “you are beautiful.”  

I sat in the center sobbing.  I sobbed for the girl who grew up never feeling beautiful, I sobbed for the teen who was always told to “suck in your stomach” and “tuck your bottom under,”  I sobbed for the mother who felt too fat to put on a swim suit in the summer and enjoy the pool with her children…and then I released it all.  

I walked back out of the labyrinth feeling emotionally lighter and appreciating the curves of the path, as well as my own. Hopefully, in six weeks, I’ll be physically lighter too!

The labyrinth at St. Thomas Episcopal Church (Ft. Washington, PA)

A few days ago I was walking an 11-circuit labyrinth on an evening when I was tired.  I had worked a full day, dropped off my youngest son at gymnastics, and would soon be facing down my daughter on the tennis court–not to mention dinner that was still yet to be made and a mountain of laundry was waiting at home for me to tackle.  I was feeling drained.

As I walked the labyrinth, I didn’t feel any better.  I arrived in the center of the labyrinth and plopped myself down, more to rest than to seek rejuvenation or to meditate.  Several minutes later I dragged myself up from the ground, and, head down, I shuffled down the path towards the exit/entrance.  Several times, too tired to want to continue,   I contemplated whether I should follow the circuitous path back out, or just walk straight out of the labyrinth from the center.

“Don’t give up, you’re almost there,” came a voice from within.  I looked around and realized that I was indeed almost there.  I thought about how many times in my life I have been “almost there,” but have given up too early.   So many times it is easier to give up when things seem too tough or fear gets the best of us.  It’s easier to wave the white flag and surrender instead of shuffling on.  I can’t turn back the hands of time, but I can make the best of the time I still have on Earth.

Although I didn’t feel like walking the labyrinth on a day that I was tired, I am glad that I did.  I’m grateful for the few moments I had to quiet my mind to be receptive to what my soul was telling me–”Don’t give up.  You’re almost there.”

Often we adults forget the amount of stress children experience.  We ask kids to excel in school, sports, arts, music—life, while navigating the world of peer pressure, media influences, sibling rivalry, etc…  The labyrinth is not just for adults.  Children can and do benefit from taking time out to just relax, unwind, listen to their inner rhythms, and meditate.

Yesterday was such a day for my daughter.

World Labyrinth Day™ is celebrated around the world on the first Saturday in May, which is tomorrow.  According to information on The Labyrinth Society  website (www.labyrinthsociety.org), “World Labyrinth Day is a day that brings people from all over the planet together in celebration of the labyrinth as a symbol, a tool, a passion or a practice.

World Labyrinth Day™ can be whatever you’re inspired to make it. A day to inform and educate the public, host walks, build permanent and/or temporary labyrinths, create labyrinth art and more.”  

Feel free to walk at any time on Saturday, or join with others around the world to Walk as One at 1 “to effect a rolling wave of peaceful energy as the world turns.”  Walk at 1:00 PM in your local time zone.

If you’ve never walked a labyrinth, check out the worldwide labyrinth locator at www.labyrinthlocator.com for a labyrinth near you.  If you still can’t find one, try an online labyrinth.

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