“Not too long ago I walked a labyrinth for the first time in my life. I had flirted with labyrinths for years, but my expectations were so high that I kept finding reasons not to walk one. I did not want to hurry. I did not want to share the labyrinth with anyone who might distract me. I did not want to be disappointed. I looked forward to walking a labyrinth so much that looking forward to it kept me from doing it for years.” —Barbara Brown Taylor in An Altar in the World (HarperCollins, 2006).
With her usual honesty, Barbra Brown Taylor reminds us of how our expectations of a spiritual practice can keep us from the practice. We may have fears that we will not find in a given practice the fulfillment that so many of our spiritual friends speak of. The reality, of course, is that it is impossible for us to be proficient in all of the spiritual practices. We can try them out, give each one some time, and afterwards may realize that one or more of them are not our best way to connect to God.
God has provided a smorgasbord of ways for us to connect to the holy. Some practices may be helpful at one stage in our life and not in another. At one time in my life, Morning Prayer and Lectio Divina stabilized my body and soul. At other times a daily walk around my neighborhood centered me before I went to work at the hospital. Now my central practice is writing; it has become my best form of prayer.
I talk to spiritual friends about not giving up or never considering a given spiritual practice again. Listen to the Spirit within. My experience is that we will often receive a nudge to return to one that we tried previously, but in new circumstances. What a blessing that we have so many ways to connect to God.
I struggle with Centering Prayer. I have difficulty just sitting still and calming the committee in my head; but I do not give up. However, walking the labyrinth is a natural for me. Concentrating on following its turns gives my mind a much-needed rest. Walking a path allows me to live in the present again rather than in the past or future. My surrender to the winding of the labyrinth—a metaphor for our spiritual journey—is a reminder of how we stay connected to God without and within. And journeying with others on the path enables us also to see God in our neighbor.
Early on in our walking, we come very close to the center. I think, “Aha, I have arrived”; but immediately after that premature thought, I am suddenly back around the edge. I find myself close to the edge near the end, and think I still have a long way to go. And not long after comes the realization that I am finished!
I need a meditation with movement to connect my soul to God. The labyrinth, dance, yoga, and other bodily movement meditations are ways to achieve quietness for those of us overwhelmed by the busyness of life. They allow us to “park” our minds, so that we are not constantly thinking about the past or the future.
My experience is that I do not always receive the gift of connection when I reach the labyrinth center. Instead, this sense of presence may come to me anywhere along the path. I remember one New Year’s Eve when I walked the labyrinth at Christ Church. It was chilly and I wore a shawl with fringes that looked like a drape that might cover your grandmother’s piano. Halfway out, I was enveloped by a new warmth. I felt the love of my grandmothers surrounding me like the comfort of the long black shawl.
Often as I walk I meditate on the words of Thich Nhat Hanh, a Vietnamese spiritual guide in walking meditation: “People say that walking on water is a miracle, but to me walking on earth is a real miracle.”
[See Thich Nhat Hanh, The Long Road Turns to Joy: A Guide to Walking Meditation (Parallax Press, 2007).]
Joanna. Joannaseibert.com
Just in time for the holidays
A Spiritual Rx for Advent Christmas, and Epiphany
The Sequel to A Spiritual Rx for Lent and Easter
Both are $18
All Money from sale of the books goes either to Camp Mitchel Camp and Conference Center in Arkansas or Hurricane Relief in the Diocese of Central Gulf Coast
Contact: joannaseibert@me.com