For at least twenty years, I have enjoyed walking labyrinths. Labyrinths are maze-like structures that have been used as spiritual tools for centuries. For the past seven years, I’ve been walking labyrinths throughout the northeastern United States, and blogging about them. To learn more about labyrinths, check out this page at the Labyrinth Society. To find labyrinths near you, try the Worldwide Labyrinth Locator.

Last Monday I was driving through the northern suburbs of Philadelphia, walking labyrinths. My fourth labyrinth of the day was at St. Thomas Episcopal Church in Whitemarsh, PA. I had been especially looking forward to this labyrinth, because I’d been to this church before. About twenty years ago, my very good friend Eric worked here for a while, and I can recall attending worship with him once or twice, as well as walking a portable canvas labyrinth that was set up for Lent. I usually prefer to walk labyrinths alone, but it was powerful and moving to share the experience with Eric that day. Very good memories! And yet, as I drove into the parking lot, my thoughts went very dark.

I thought about a recurring daydream I was having about a month ago. I had daydreamed about going back in time, and interfering with my own life. In the fantasy, I met my younger self, and tried to convince him to do things differently, so that my past would change. The intent of this interference was to prevent the younger me from connecting with people who would eventually become good friends, or girlfriends, of mine. The goal was to change my own past so that now I’d be alone, no family, no friends. Just a hermit. This fantasy was vivid, and it wasn’t just a passing thought. I thought about a lot over the course of a few weeks.

I know that this fantasy came from a place of depression, but now that I’m not feeling that way, I wondered about why I was so fixated on it. So the question I entered the labyrinth with was “Why do I want to undo so much of my past?“

The labyrinth itself was a very familiar design, a large 11-circuit Chartres-style (which means it’s a replica of the labyrinth in the cathedral in Chartres, France). The whole thing was made of cement, with colored inlaid walls.

As I started to walk the familiar twisty Chartres path I’ve walked so many times before, it felt like some of the twists and turns in my brain unraveled, and I gained some clarity about my time-travel fantasy. I realized that when I’m imagining undoing my friendships and relationships, it’s because I’m scared of the connections I make with people. I’m scared that those connections are dangerous. I’m scared of the pain I can cause, scared of the pain that I have caused, scared that I’m more trouble than I’m worth. I know there were times I definitely hurt Eric. I’m scared that I’m poison, and that by connecting with them, I’ve poisoned them. So I just wanted to undo all that, for their sake.

But as I walked through the circles, I spoke back to that Dark Voice. I said, “Connections aren’t dangerous. They’re risky, yes, and unpredictable. There’s vulnerability there. But that’s not the same as dangerous. And I’m not poison. I’m just a flesh and blood person.”

I have a choice to make whenever I relate to people. I can choose whether to try to be kind or not. I can choose whether to try to pay attention or not. I don’t always make the right choice, but often I do.

When I reached the center, I decided to text Eric. I just let him know where I was, and that it made me think of him. And I realized as I did that that Eric is actually proof, if I needed any, that I am worth it to my friends. He’s even said so in the past. We got through a rough patch in our friendship, he forgave me, and we moved on. Eric is proof that good and positive things come through these risky and vulnerable interpersonal connections.

As I walked back from the center, a group of preschool kids ran across the church lawn, and a few of them walked onto the labyrinth. They didn’t get in my way, and they didn’t bother me. Their teachers were trying to wrangle them away from the labyrinth, and get them to their destination. I wonder if the teachers thought I was bothered, or if my spiritual experience was ruined. Not at all. And even if I were, that would have been my problem, not theirs.

So I don’t need to be afraid of interpersonal connections. Not of the ones I’ve already made, nor of the ones I’ll make in the future. Yes, they’re risky, but as I learned in another labyrinth today, with practice, I have gotten better at relationships. It occurred to me that those preschoolers are practicing relationships right now with one another, and even a bit with me, when they wandered into the labyrinth I was walking. They don’t have much practice at it yet! But I do, and I’m always getting better. And these relationships are worth it. I don’t need to cut people out, not even in my dreams.

Do you have daydreams like this that need to be challenged? What obsessive thoughts or images do you wish you could let go of? Let me know in the comments!