I enjoy walking labyrinths. Labyrinths are maze-like structures that have been used as spiritual tools for centuries. There are many of them around, and I have started the habit of trying to visit them, perhaps once a week. For more information on labyrinths, check out The Labyrinth Society.
It was an absolutely gorgeous day today, so I traveled back to Warren County for a labyrinth. This labyrinth is on the grounds of Unity Spiritual Center; they call it “Circle of Grace.” It’s a classical seven-circuit labyrinth, with walls made of bricks flush with the ground. The path is wide and comfortable, on lush grass. The center of the labyrinth has two stone benches, and there is a similar bench around the outside.
I walked into the labyrinth without a clear idea of a question. I just stood there in the warm breeze, wondering what I might want to ask. I thought about silly meta-questions like, “What should my question be?” Eventually, I stumbled onto, “What should my focus be this week?” Seemed perhaps fitting, since it’s the beginning of Holy Week, and I will be presiding and preaching at five distinct services next weekend. Plus, tomorrow evening I have my first congregation council meeting since coming back from leave, my first big chance to try to be a different sort of leader. As soon as I pondered this question, the breeze picked up, the hood of my windbreaker flew on my head, and I felt as though I was being pushed into the labyrinth. Okay then. I suppose that’s my question.
The funny thing about this labyrinth is that it looked small to me from the outside. Standing at the entrance, I wondered if it was worth the drive. It just seemed so common, so typical. Perhaps I’ve overdone it with labyrinths, and I need a break. But the moment I started walking, that feeling changed. I felt like I was really moving, like this was a nice long walk, like I was on a long broad path that just happened to be bent. I felt like I could see the path of the labyrinth unwrap itself before me, and it felt huge instead of small.
When I reached the center, I didn’t have any great revelations. I sat on one of the benches, and meditated for a few minutes. I felt the time stretch out in front of me in the same way the labyrinth’s path had, and I felt peace and wholeness. I walked out, feeling calm and ready for the week ahead.
I wondered if this might have been a sign of how I might view Holy Week this year. It’s a week like any other, 168 hours. I’ll be spending some of them sleeping, others working, others playing, others reading, etc. But it also contains an intricate pattern of meaning. Perhaps by simply walking through the week in a mindful fashion, I might see the week’s meaning and path open up in front of me. I can follow wherever it leads, because God has laid the walls out for me. Perhaps every week is this way, really.