And yes, as a modern mystic, I use this symbol, this tool, constantly. It’s very grounding for me.

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I just remember the story “The Garden of the trails that forks” by Borges. Always we have a road that leads to the center of the labyrinth.

For me, the labyrinth is a symbol of the self—the human soul—and so being, it represents, as Thelma says, “the journey to our own center.” And like Heart suggests, if we do indeed set out upon this quest and reach the center, we are “healed,” as we have become free of the diseases (the dis-eases) that plague us psychologically and spiritually, and thus manifest themselves as illnesses in our physical body. In this sense, the labyrinth addresses the Ultimate Journey–the Everyman’s Journey (and Everywoman’s) to the core of his or her own true nature.

Labyrinths, I just love. Formal gardens in general, I adore, but particularly those which incorporate labyrinths as a major element of design. Wherever I travel, but particularly in Europe, where they are so prevalent, I try to seek them out. Somehow, it’s always like finding a sort of hidden treasure—one hidden in broad daylight, so to speak, as so many passers-by seem not to take a second look, seem not to notice the magic of the structure they behold.

I remember once travelling with a group a friends—my fiance and another couple—to some place (I can’t remember where exactly) in the North of England. We were going to some castle, I was told, but when we got there, I discovered, much to my horror, a massive amusement park, similar to Disney World or something of that variety. There was indeed a castle–a grand and amazing castle, and one of the most beautiful gardens I have ever seen, covering many acres and surrounding a large, pristine lake. I don’t remember a labyrinth there, but the garden and castle grounds—the rolling hills around the lake, the winding cobbled pathways intermittently etched with stone staircases, the dappled shades created by the great oaks, and the flowers, so many flowers in so many delicate varieties, things that would never grow, never survive in the humid heat of my subtropical home—this served as my labyrinth that day.

I did fulfill the minimal obligations of social propriety—I rode right off the largest, wildest rollercoaster in the park, and had my picture snapped alongside my boyfriend in the process, both of us screaming our heads off. But then I politely bowed out of the rest and departed from the amusement park section of the grounds altogether, retreating to the remotest part of the surrounding gardens. There, I spent the remainder of the day, quietly strolling, alone, and enjoying the breathtakingly splendid views. As I say, there was no labyrinth present in form, but by the end of the day, I felt that I had indeed arrived at the center of some most secret part of myself. I had walked and walked these twisting turning paths, ascended and descended these ancient stone steps until somehow I had arrived at a place quite remote from where I had started, a place quite foreign and yet hauntingly familiar.

One of my favorite films is “Damage,” at the very end of which, the character played by Jeremy Irons says: “I walked until I arrived at a life of my own.” Well, that, maybe, is the best way to describe what happened to me that day, somewhere in the far, cold north of England—I walked…and walked…and walked, until I arrived at a life of my own. I had a big decision to make on that trip, a decision that would alter my life, one way or the other, greatly. Would I stay in London–permanently? Or would I return to the U.S. and continue the process of applying to universities for admittance the the following year? Would I live someone else’s design for my life, or my own? In the end, as I stood in the security line at the airport, I looked back over my shoulder once, but I did not turn back.

That, I think, is the essence of walking a labyrinth, whether the walls be structured in stone, or hedgework…or simply imaginary, the idea is to walk…and walk…and walk…until the path becomes purely your own, until it’s winding paths become inseparable from the pathways of your very soul.

Much Love,
Savita

not being serious today :)

smiles to all
cc

Reminds me of a famous saying….

God didn’t promise days without pain, laughter without sorrow, or sun without rain, but He did promise strength for the day, comfort for the tears, and light for the way. If God brings you to it, He will bring you through it.

(Anon)

Thank you, Paulo. :-)

Living life from the heart ;-)

PSX

Up above everything is clear and easily the solution can be seen…

but when you’re walking in the labyrinth it is necessary to have a good sense of direction.

Have a nice day,

Aretha*