Labyrinths: Looking Forward and Expectations
“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, Barbara Brown Taylor reminds us of how our expectations of a spiritual practice can keep us from the practice. We may fear that we will not find the fulfillment many of our friends have in a spiritual practice. The reality is that we can’t be proficient in all spiritual practices. However, we can attempt them, give each one some time, and then realize that one or more of them is not our best way to connect to God.
God has provided a smorgasbord of ways to connect us to the holy. Some practices may be helpful at one stage in our lives, and not in another. For example, Morning Prayer and Lectio Divina stabilized my body and soul at one time in my life. 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 spiritual practice again. Instead, listen to the Spirit within. My experience is that we often receive a nudge to return to a practice we tried previously, when we are now in a different stage of life. What a blessing that we have so many ways to connect to God.
I struggle with Centering Prayer. I have difficulty sitting still and calming the committee in my head, but I do not give up. However, walking the labyrinth is natural for me. Concentrating on following its turns gives our mind a much-needed rest. Walking a path allows us to live in the present again, rather than in the past or future. Our surrender to the winding of the labyrinth—a metaphor for our spiritual journey—reminds us of how we stay connected to God outside of ourselves and within. Journeying with others on the path also enables us to visualize God more clearly in our neighbor.
Early in walking the labyrinth, we come very close to the center. “Aha, I have arrived,” but immediately after that premature thought, we are suddenly back around the edge. We find ourselves close to the edge near the end and think we still may have a long way to go. But soon comes the realization that we are at the center!
I need meditation with movement to connect my soul to God. The labyrinth, dance, yoga, praying in color, the rosary, 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 we are not constantly thinking about the past or 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 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, an unusual warmth enveloped me. I felt the love of my grandmothers surrounding me like the comfort of the long black shawl.
As I walk, I often meditate on the words of Thich Nhat Hanh1, a Vietnamese spiritual guide known for his walking meditations: “People say that walking on water is a miracle, but to me, walking on earth is a real miracle.”
1Thich Nhat Hanh, The Long Road Turns to Joy: A Guide to Walking Meditation (Parallax Press, 2007).
Joanna. https://www.joannaseibert.com/
arkansas children’s hospital