Before arriving at this labyrinth, I got a traffic citation for failing to follow New York’s “Move Over Law,” a law I hadn’t been aware of. I encourage you to read my retelling of that experience before reading the rest of this post. It provides vital context.

After receiving that ticket, I spiraled. For the next hour, I felt miserable, heading toward suicidal. So I threw on my Persona playlist in the car, and I found that the songs didn’t rip me even further apart the way I thought they would. Instead, they seemed to offer some hope, and it kind of felt like these songs were being redeemed. It was like a musical EMDR session. So I decided to come to this labyrinth, and explore this further. I realized that the feelings I was having had little to do with the traffic ticket, and more to do with the same old cycle over and over again. So I wondered.

I wondered, if the songs on Persona could be redeemed, and if my feelings could be redeemed, can the Dark Voice himself be redeemed?

Longtime readers of my blog and my book know very well who the Dark Voice is – it’s an inner voice I’ve been hearing since childhood. It tells me that I am terrible, that I am worthless, that I am useless. It reminds me over and over again of the mistakes I’ve made, and how I’ve hurt people. It has led me to the edge of suicide. I have often viewed it as the incarnation, the avatar, of my depression.

So I arrived at Hillside Park in South Abington Township, Pennsylvania. The labyrinth here was constructed in 2023 by Faith Bennett, as a project to earn her Girl Scout Gold Award.  It’s a seven-circuit medieval design, made of bricks of different colors for the path and the walls. In the center of the labyrinth is a bowl, and before I walked the path, I went into the center to get a photo of it.

I had to walk around to the back of the bowl to get a good picture, because my shadow kept appearing in it. Hold onto that detail – that’s foreshadowing, dear reader.

I went back to the entrance, and prepared to walk the path. And I focused on my question: Can the Dark Voice be redeemed?

As I walked into the labyrinth, I considered what it would mean for the Dark Voice to be redeemed. It would mean that he’s not a caricature, not a scapegoat, but a real personality, a real being, capable of both good and bad. Just like me. Just like all of us. Had I really made him into a scapegoat all these years? And I realized something else – I believe that I have been redeemed through my baptism, and if that’s true, and if he’s a part of me, then he must be redeemed as well. Just the same way.

And this is the part of the story where you might not believe me. This is the part where you say, “a well-constructed story, perhaps, but it did not happen like this.”

But I tell you, this is all true. This is how it happened.

I entered the center of the labyrinth and started walking around the bowl. I often walk around in the center of labyrinths if they’re big enough. I kept looking at the bowl, and then I realized that it wasn’t just any bowl, it was a baptismal font. Or at least it might as well be. It was a baptismal font, right at the center of this labyrinth where I’m exploring redemption; a baptismal font, the source and symbol of my redemption; a baptismal font, right at the center of this labyrinth on a day when I so need to feel forgiveness and healing; a baptismal font, right at the center of a labyrinth when I’m trying to discern if the Dark Voice, my shadow self, can be, or is, redeemed.

And I looked inside the bowl. Remember the foreshadowing? Here’s what I saw.

There he is. My shadow self. Right in the font. Right where he was, with me, over forty-nine years ago. There he is, still. In the font. Of course he’s redeemed! He always was, I just never knew it.

The Dark Voice and I walked out of the labyrinth together. At least that’s how I saw it. I told him that he has always been a good warning system, helping me know when I’d hurt someone. Helping me know when I had to make amends. I told him I appreciate that. And I apologized for the way I’d hurt him, the way I had demonized and objectified him over the years.

I heard him apologize to me for the times he went too far, the times when he wouldn’t stop with alerting me, but continued to berate me. We walked out of the labyrinth, hand in hand, promising to try not to hurt each other anymore. Promising to try to work together.

I fell into a deep spiral right after my traffic stop today. And yet, I was able to let go of it, and start to come back to normal within about an hour, far quicker than usual. Which means I can do it. It also means that I can listen to the Dark Voice without swamping us both for too long. I can do it.

I also know now that he doesn’t hate me. I always thought he did. But he doesn’t. He and I have certainly been cruel to each other, but we don’t have to be going forward. I trust that he will try, and I hope he trusts me too. Together we’ll be able to keep the spirals short in the future. I know we can. We’re working together.

Now that’s redemption.