'The Fairies' Labyrinth'

The Fairies' Labyrinth

Patricia Valentini

Original title: Le Labyrinthe des FĂŠes. November 2018.

ISBN 978-2-9536828-4-7 Translation: Patricia Valentini

Photos: Patricia Valentini 2019 ISBN 978-2-9536828-8-5

All rights of translation, adaptation, or reproduction reserved for all countries.

Patricia Valentini

The Fairies' Labyrinth Thanks to the Spirits of Nature and the writing life, 'Nothing is impossible for those who believe.'

May Beauty be the Path

"Come on, girls, a well-deserved "girls' day" after a busy Summer!" Luna hopped on her bike and rode along the path.

Luna, Sophie, and Surya, three childhood friends, who met to spend a day at the beach. A day of rest to wander through the forest, and walk barefoot on the warm sand. It was one of those last beautiful days of an Indian Summer, and the universe or fate — you decide what to call it — had other plans for Luna.

They enjoyed the morning quietly, playing beach games, reading, and sharing dreams. At midday, they savored a salty-sweet picnic, a mixture of dark chocolate, cinnamon biscuits, and goat cheese sprinkled with news of their current lives and future projects. A few months without meeting, and a whole day to catch up to date.

Once the picnic was finished, Surya, who relaxed on the carpet she had woven last winter, was lulled by the waves to enter into a blissful sunny nap. Sophie decided to use the time for reading and correcting her thesis on the importance of art in the deaf community.

Luna had chosen this place to spend time with her friends because she knew there was a forest close to the beach. She needed to touch the moist soil and smell the scent of the earth in the undergrowth, the ferns, the fresh and woody smell of fir trees, and the small trails beginning to be covered with yellow, gold, and orange leaves from maples.

She also wanted to have time to be alone; nature called her after a few months living in the heart of the village where she also worked, in her studio-house, as she called it.

Luna began to walk toward the forest, her small backpack containing a water bottle, her dairy, and some colored pencils (You never know when you will need to write or draw).

To write and paint is to leave a trace of my passage on Earth. Opening inner doors for myself and for those who read my writings or look at my paintings. I like to write poems, letters, send postcards; yes, writing is essential, it's vital for me.

The path between the Pines and the Cedars turned into a small path with Cypresses and Maples leading to a large, unexpected clearing, with two ancient Oak trees serving as the entrance. A ray of sunshine illuminated the path, and Luna followed the light.

She had read years ago in The Celestin Prophecy that a ray of light can show us the path we should choose.

Luna walked about ten more yards, surrounded by Cypresses. Facing the two oaks, she found a carved stone at the base of the trees. Kneeling beside it, she wiped the surface with her hand to remove the leaves that prevented her from reading the inscription: "since 1882."

Since 1882... and nothing else? What does that mean?

She hesitated for a moment in front of the chiseled stone. When she looked up, she saw the Labyrinth in front of her. She had felt a strong intuition to visit the forest on her own, and this time she had listened to it.

The Spirits of Nature, also called the Little People, had spoken to her since childhood; listening to them was her secret. Luna allowed herself to write about them, to draw them, so other people could see them through her writings, tales, and paintings. She dreamt of meeting them someday.

Maybe today would be the day?

Changing our perspectives and points of view to see with the eyes of the heart. Stay open to the improbable, so that it becomes real. Real, unreal... Where's the limit?

She was traveling to another time and place, that of fairies, subtle beings, and the Labyrinth in the wood, accompanied by the scent of earth and water, the colors of butterflies, and the sounds of the forest.

The luminosity of the sky changed. A rainbow appeared in front of the Labyrinth, a doorway of light; then, a second rainbow formed a dome which illuminated the clearing.

The Labyrinth was made of stones that sparkled in the sunlight and welcomed Luna.

She thought of her paintings, so similar to this landscape before her eyes.

I have time, my friends are waiting for me on the beach, I can go through the Labyrinth.

In front of the entrance to the Labyrinth, Luna took off her shoes and walked barefoot on the wet earth. She shuddered with joy, smelling the scent of the forest; it reminded her of the essential oil of Vetiver that she loved so much. She basked in the sweet and joyful light, strolling amongst the rustling leaves.

The path of the labyrinth was about a yard wide. Just one way, impossible to get lost.

Surrounded by rounded stones that marked the edges of the path, creating a wall of about two feet high, Luna was pulled towards the bright red light that appeared before her.

Little by little, the light changed; a mini garden of poppies revealed itself before her eyes. Luna continued her walk and discovered on the way some of her paintings.

I don't understand.

Doubt invaded her. Was she walking in a dream, or was she awake?

I often describe my work as dreamlike Art; do I paint or dream?

Then, the answer presented itself: I dream of my art, and then I paint. The images appear before my eyes like pictures, images from elsewhere, from nowhere, direct and unexpected like a flash.

Often doubts and questions had arisen about her art: Is it really my art, or am I just a channel for expressing images, ideas, and possibilities created by an unknown source?

Artists often claim to be the tools of God, of the One, of the Source that is beyond their thoughts.

The poppies seemed to dance to the music of a light breeze from an unknown origin. Maybe it was the breath of a fairy? Luna stood for a moment, standing in front of the dancing poppies, and her thoughts became a reality.

The Poppy Fairy presented herself with her bright red skirt.

"Hello, Luna. Welcome to the Fairies' Labyrinth."

"Hello, I've been calling you for so long."

Surprise and happiness in her thoughts, Luna threw herself into a dance with the fairy creating swirls of petals and joy until she felt that she was ready to fly away. It seemed as if her feet were no longer touching the ground.

I dance, I fly, life in red, dancing flowers... Thank you.

For a brief moment, Luna was wrapped in red lights, and the small poppy garden turned into a meadow dotted with hundreds of mixed flowers, mingling with the poppies.

Suddenly, the Labyrinth disappeared. The trees, the path, the whole landscape changed magically, and a red circle surrounded Luna and the Poppy Fairy. They sat down in the middle of the ring, and the Poppy Fairy announced: "Learning time."

"Space and time do not have a universal reality, it is different for everyone; the images that surround us, the way we look at each event, the things, the people, it is each of us that creates them. Do you understand?

"Uh... not quite."

"It's okay, that's why you came back into the forest, you saw the Labyrinth, and met me to learn, and understand many things that you already know but that you have forgotten or sometimes you doubt. For example, now we are in the Poppy meadow, and whenever you want, you will be back on the path to the Labyrinth. It's up to you to create your reality."

Chatting with the fairy gave Luna a little glimpse of what that day would be like. She thanked the fairy for the lessons and the poppies for the dance.

She took a strawberry lodged in the crevices of the stones; then, guided by the intuition and the lights that changed color as she advanced, she continued on the path of the Labyrinth.

Luna decided to play along and let herself be guided by her love and gratitude towards the Spirits of Nature and subtle beings. Her confidence in them had always saved her during hard or sad moments of her life.

What if I sang? She said to herself, whispering her words.

A melody made of notes, which meet just for the pleasure of being together, created a harmony that Luna didn't know. Her soul knew this music, and the fairies had undoubtedly appealed to this unconscious memory to accompany her on the journey.

A journey that would change Luna's day and also her friends' day, maybe even their lives.

Surya woke up slowly after her nap, stretched, breathed the salty fresh air, and looked around, seeing Sophie, who was still reading her papers.

"Hi. Still busy? We said, 'day of rest.' Do you know what 'rest' means?

"I know, but you see, to me reading is rest. Like creating, like when you do your tapestries. Do you understand?"

"Yes, of course. How's it going? When are you presenting your thesis ?"

"Normally, it should be finished in two weeks."

"Has Luna returned from her walk in the woods?"

"Not yet, you know how is she, always eager to go explore, even if we had said a day of rest between girlfriends. And your trip to New York, how would it work? Are you leaving with the whole family?"

"I don't know yet. The twins, it's not easy to leave them.

Jean-Baptiste must find a replacement for the piano lessons... in short, it's quite complicated. Family holiday, we'll have to see."

In the distance, to her right, Luna saw several arches and columns. The small fence that surrounded the path of the Labyrinth was what remained of this colonnade.

Rays of autumnal light, like the orange and gold of the setting sun, reflected off the stones and almost dazzled her.

Is the sun already setting? Did I spend the day in the forest? The girls may be worried. But I can't go back; I must continue to the center of the Labyrinth, that's the goal: to go to the center, to the heart. Time is no longer time as I thought; no past, no future, just the present. Yes, that's it, the present as a gift.

On the side, between the path and the stones, Luna saw a heart formed by a bouquet of calendulas, the flowers in the colors of the setting sun. It was a flower that she especially appreciated to macerate in almond oil, which she used to protect her skin.

She continued walking. The idea of David, her partner, having a small house in the wood, a place of retreat and creation, appeared as if in a dream that could become true.

When I'm back home, we will have to talk about it. The woods and the forest have, indeed, this particular energy, calm and at the same time, energizing; they are home to a lot of sounds, colors, life, visible and invisible beings.

A hut in the wood, like the pioneers' log cabins, or in Siberia as narrated by Sylvain Tesson. He spent six months in one of those huts of the Russian taiga just to be, stop running and travel, be present to nature and himself.

Maybe David and I could find some land with a hut to renovate?

At that moment, Luna remembered a poem she had written a few years ago: Invisible beings, made with fruits of the forest, they came into this material world, from another Life from a past life.

Fifteen years ago, separated by thousands of ocean waves, I've met you.

You're still Here, Invisible World, Sentient beings.

Luna took the notebook out of her backpack and drew a cabin in the woods next to a small labyrinth. Dreaming dreams, so they become a reality.

She remembered a phrase she had read in a newspaper a long time ago, and she added it to the drawing: "The future belongs to those who believe in the beauty of their dreams." E. Roosevelt My dreams, a mixture of images and emotions.

Sometimes I'm tossed by these emotions like a boat in a raging sea. Driven by waves of thoughts and feelings, from past to future and from future to present... and back again.

The Buddhist description of the mind, shown as a monkey jumping from one branch to another in a tree, was perfect.

Did she always believe in the beauty of her dreams?

In the Labyrinth, the colonnade was always on her right, and she wanted to visit it but, she didn't want to stray from the path. She could jump over the wall, but it was not her style.

She didn't want to lose the opportunity to see other fairies, other flowers, or to hear different melodies. The teachings of Thich Nhat Hanh resonated in her memory and her heart.

Step by step in the present moment, the breath guides me. I inhale, I am here and now; I exhale, I continue. Every moment a lesson, a message to receive and to transmit.

Writing is also a way of being present; write to remember, to lighten dreams and thoughts, write to leave a trace, and to express emotions.

I could compare the soul with the ocean, and the emotions with the waves. The Earth and the human body are made up of water; the vehicle of emotions takes us up and down. Waves of the ocean like the waves of our moods.

Everything is One, but emotions are revealed here and there: stronger, softer, with or without foam, caresses in a warm sea, or destructive as the waves of a tsunami.

We recognize the emotions that come over us or invade us, which can lead us blindly or connect us with our emotional depth.

Sometimes we can't identify them and suddenly, "Surprise!" One is beset by them as a castle can be besieged by enemies. They can perturb us but sometimes raise our awareness.

The ideal, the middle way: to be conscious and become, day after day, more balanced. Emotions have nothing wrong in themselves; they just have not to blind us or disorientate our lives.

The calm sea, beautiful scenery! But we must pay attention to the tides, the wind, the waves, the sweet scent that fills the air, the breezes that bring us secrets to discover. Being aware is what counts.

A large clump of buttercup flowers appeared in front of Luna. The fairy dressed in yellow, playing hide and seek with the flowers, had in her hands a petal, which she put in front Luna and then another a little higher and another one still... in the air, but all joined together by an invisible thread.

She formed a bridge of petals so that Luna could pass over the flower beds without touching them.

A fairy architect of a golden bridge, Luna thought while thanking the fairy for creating this bridge for her.

"How did you make the petals hold together?"

"Just like that!"

And the fairy-child continued to play with petals, creating other small bridges on the paths.

"Just like that, I see," repeated Luna, "we create our reality."

Luna was afraid to distract the fairy who was very focused on the bridge's construction, so she stood there, patiently in front of the buttercup. She pulled out her notebook and pencils and began to draw the flowers; then, she wrote some thoughts about the bridges to remember later on.

Drawing, writing, creating was her everyday life.

Creating bridges is a magical art. In the physical plane, by linking banks of rivers or an island to the mainland. In artists' works, by building bridges between outside and inside, real and unreal, the divine and the human.

A materialized idea, since any creation was first an idea and then, the bridge...

Every day, every moment, you need to have a fresh perspective, as in the eyes of a child, marvel at the flowers, the colors of nature, or the subtle beings that we do not usually see in daily life.

Breathe in consciousness and be present.

Luna had just received another wonderful gift.

This moment with the Fairy Architect reminded her of the importance of imagination. The certainty of being able to create from our inner strength. We're all creators.

She thanked the spirits of nature, finished her sketch of the flowers, put away her notebook and pencils, and then continued on the Labyrinth.

Art and mathematics are not so far apart in the end.

Why not a petal bridge built by a fairy-child dressed as a buttercup flower?

Pythagoras had all his mathematical creations for those who needed to explain, to understand, and to interpret nature. And Leonardo da Vinci did the same through his artworks and his inventions.

Everything has a connection with the harmony of the golden number: flowers, fruits, atoms, the human body, cells, galaxies, the whole universe; they all are natural mandalas.

Everything is in natural harmony, and humans always wanted to copy, draw, or paint this harmony.

I studied all this at the Fine Art School, but sometimes it was entirely theoretical. Finally, I learned to really look, and the world around me took another dimension.

What a wonderful discovery!

Luna had drawn and created natural mandalas with flowers, branches, or stones since childhood, without knowing that they were called Mandalas.

From the center, expanding circles, spirals, a harmony of colors and shapes. Later, Luna put words on her drawings and paintings.

According to anthropologists and ethnologists, there have been a lot of Mandala and labyrinth drawings and carvings every time humanity has experienced a period of crisis.

It is no coincidence that today, Mandalas are used to focus and calm the mind. Teachers encourage children to draw mandalas to help their concentration!

Observe nature to learn to harmonize oneself.

Luna had forgotten the time and date. She no longer thought of her friends, waiting on the beach, nor of David, who stayed at home waiting for her.

She entered another state of consciousness from that of everyday life, another frequency of time and space, that of the subtle world.

She felt a sense of freedom without really thinking about it, only the present moment, a present, a gift.

Luna kept walking, she saw the path was moving her away from the center of the Labyrinth, but she knew that it is often like this: to go away, to go back, and to leave.

Always on the move, it's life itself.

Keep up with the rhythm of my breathing.

My breath in harmony with the breath of the Universe.

I continue, I advance, I move away from the center to get to the center; I know, this is the way.

Walking time, reflection time, time for me outside of time.

Thanks to nature.

Thanks to life.

Luna continued along the way by singing one of her favorite mantras, "Om Mani Padme Hum." The stones of the Labyrinth's wall revealed, here and there, some clovers peeping through the cracks. She saw them and knelt to observe the details: an intense green, a few touches of gray-black in the center. She couldn't help but take out her notebook to draw them.

I have always sung, but it took me years to find what I wanted to sing, or rather what my soul wanted to sing. I finally found mantras, sacred phrases originating from the Orient; within the sounds, the heart and the voice become one.

The feet on Earth and the head in the stars. Energies run through me up, down, from bottom to top. The vital energy that travels through and crosses over me, and at the center, my heart.

Will I find four-leaf clover? Where does this story of good luck from clover come from? I should look for it in my books...Or would I find a fairy who will answer me?

Luna had already seen a twinkling light near the leaves.

She took her notebook and pencils, diverting her gaze so as not to frighten away the fairy who was just arriving.

Sometimes they don't want to be seen, and you have to give them time, breathe quietly, and wait.

Luna took her time, sat down in front of the clover flowers gazing softly without staring, enabling her to see the life's energy, the aura, the brightness that surrounds all living Beings. She began to draw with her left hand, certainly less precise, but more in connection to the feelings and the vibrations of nature that surrounded her.

"I like it; keep going. Would you like some more clover flowers? I can bring you some," the fairy said.

"Yes! Thank you... What's your name?"

"My name? Ah, the labels! Why do you want to put labels on everything? I am me, a fairy in the middle of a grove of clover, and you are drawing them. You can call me the Clover Fairy. Ok?" Suddenly, Luna found herself in a grove of... Giant Clover.

"Sorry, you're right. How did you create that?"

"Well, you wanted to draw them, and I thought it would be easier if they were big. We create our reality. Remember?"

"Yes, I know, quite simply. Not always easy, but I remember.

Well, thank you."

"To create our reality is possible."

Imagine a better world, the best of the worlds, to create it. Without imagining, one cannot create. Life is creation.

I dance my life to the rhythm of seasons, encounters, colors, and dreams. Sometimes, when I breathe deeply and sing, all fears disappear like birds that fly away to other horizons.

I continue the path; I advance, I return the other way, the colonnade is now to my left, OK. I know the story: moving forward and back on its steps, except that it is never the same place. Even when I think it's the same thing, the same situation, the same story, it's always different.

Time is not linear, and space accounts for much more than three dimensions. It is no longer a secret, but some people do not want to believe it.

A spiral in space, my history is part of a family's history, a country, a culture... but all these things are in perpetual change.

Past. Present. Future. The simultaneity of places and spaces. You have to be attentive, look from the center of your intuition, the third eye, the Ä jĂąÄ .

Feel, awaken the senses, and then write or paint.

I write for myself, to remember, to clarify my ideas.

I also write to open doors: mine at first, towards other ideas, other realities, other dimensions. Then others' doors, so everyone knows there are many possibilities. You have to understand this before knowing how to decide and choose.

Writing can also be a meditation, a practice to be present.

Practicing mindfulness, as taught by the Buddhist Teacher Thich Nhat Hanh, seems quite easy to follow, it is just to be present, present at every moment, every activity, every thought. With all the stimuli, projects, and events that the society bombards us with at all times, it's not that simple.

To be present does not mean not having projects, but having projects without focusing on the results. Let go.

Daily meditation would be a solution to the acceleration of time, and all the stress that society generates. To be centered, to follow its breath. Spiritualizing matter and everyday life.

I remember a quote I read somewhere: "We are Spiritual Beings in a physical body and not a physical body with a Spirit."

Creation and art are also ways to spiritualize matter.

Bring the Divine to the physical and material levels of the third dimension.

There is considerable confusion about what art and the mission of artists are, but by reading what the artists think and what the spiritual masters teach, we can find answers.

Art is only possible when it works to raise the spirit; the rest is an imitation, copying, or art therapy. Very useful sometimes, indeed, but it is not art.

It seems complicated to explain, but I agree.

I think it's time to express it, to be honest to myself and stop looking for the whys and hows: to be conscious, present, to spiritualize matter and daily life, and then share it.

In the distance, the forest surrounded the path of the Labyrinth, a curtain of greenery protected this sacred place.

Overwhelmed by an emotion of joy and grace, Luna was conscious of experiencing a unique moment in her life.

Forests, the lungs of our planet. What a feeling of peace and silence, and at the same time, a symphony of sounds and colors!

When I dive into a swimming pool, it's the same.

Silence surrounds me, cradles me, envelops me, protects me, allowing me to feel my sounds and my interior colors. The turquoise color of the water melts with the tiles around me. I perceive the energy of the blue, and the chakra of my throat shines.

The vibration of the colors, like gems and essential oils, can help us to heal ourselves.

The Iris Fairy waited patiently for Luna to return from her reveries of the turquoise waters. Noticing the joy of Luna plunging into her thoughts on water and colors, she decided to create a lake on the way to the Labyrinth.

Luna became aware of the path and the lake just in time not to put her feet into the water. Fairies are often very funny; they have a pretty unique way of explaining things.

"Hello."

"Hello. You like water, don't you? The lakes, the sea, the rivers?"

"Oh, yes, I love it. Thanks for the lake. Maybe we could swim a little to freshen up?"

"Yes, great!"

As soon as it was said, it was done. Luna and the Iris Fairy dived in the lake, whose water was as blue as the petals of the fairy's dress.

Between laughter and splashing, once again, time seemed to stop for Luna. She thought neither of the path nor the Labyrinth, let alone Surya and Sophie, who were left behind on the beach this morning. Or was it yesterday?

Luna came out of the lake, thanked the Iris Fairy, and continue walking the Labyrinth.

States of awakened presence and dream mingled. Luna felt that the reality of a walk in the forest was confused with this other reality, that of encounters with the subtle world beyond linear time and three-dimensional space.

I have to move forward and go home, it seems hard not to think about the girls on the beach, and at the same time, I can't help but live this unexpected adventure.

This thought about her friends brought Luna back to other reflections. Friends, family, lover. All the links created in time, since when? How many lives have we had?

Kindred souls, twin Souls, Group of Souls. She had read about it, "The Soul Families," which helped her to understand how all these links are organized.

Love, in all its forms, with the closest, the less close, the very distant; a whole circuit, like a labyrinth, to be traveled every time. Learn to communicate and create real links, links without attachments. Bonds of love, respect, and freedom to be able to grow.

Friends, the family of the soul, recognize those who accompany us while we travel on this beautiful planet to move forward together.

From time to time, we lose sight of each other, and suddenly we meet again. From a forgotten time, a "dĂŠjĂ vu" moment.

As she had learned a few years ago, one must be attentive to coincidences and synchronicities to be sure one did not miss the message.

The asters lined the wall of the Labyrinth, and the bluepurple color of the petals attracted Luna's gaze. As she continued walking, footprints appeared before her.

The flowers are the closest beings to the human soul, said Edward Bach.

I love asters. I read a few days ago that this name comes from the Greek and means 'star'. Interesting because I also love the stars. I paint them, embroider them, watch them in the evening, and if they are next to the crescent moon when she's but a sliver in the sky, it's even better.

One of my poems tells the story of a child who came from the stars. I feel an irresistible attraction to the stars, where it all began, the infinite universe that surrounds us, beings from other worlds, other dimensions, other galaxies.

How can some people believe they are alone!

Thanks to the Asters, and the Stars.

Luna could no longer see the colonnade. Without warning, the last reflections of the sunset disappeared. The atmosphere changed; lightning followed by thunder filled the sky. Was this a storm or just a passing shower? The second clap of thunder startled Luna, lost in her musings. The rain began to fall.

Wrapped in water droplets that created a multi-colored circle around her, a sense of anxiety crept upon her, and Luna felt the urge to run to protect herself from the rain.

But where? Why? Rain is just water; I feel its freshness, but I'm not wet. Real or unreal, this path is magical, another message to remember.

Live the present moment, and don't make assumptions.

It looks simple and yet...We all know the fear of the unknown, the things we don't understand right away.

Surya, my astrologer friend, told me about the influence of the stars on our personality and our states of mind.

Depending on whether it's sunny or rainy, you don't feel the same energy. Some people like summer; others prefer the sweetness of autumn days. For some, the most important is the change of seasons when the days are not alike.

Luna reflected on her fears and how the external changes, the climate, the different moods can provoke or induce internal changes when suddenly, the rain stopped, and a warm breeze gently touched her face.

The change of the atmosphere transported her back to her childhood. Her sixth birthday, the memory of her twin sister getting sick, the fear, and then her life turned upside down forever.

Come back to the present moment; today is a day to discover, learn, live a new experience. Move forward.

Luna continued her journey, once again, moving away from the center of the Labyrinth.

Moving away from her center, her heart, her mission?

Fear of losing the path, her path, troubled her. Luna paused, looked again at the path; she centered on her breathing, and stood for a moment with her eyes closed.

Her way, her mission, her path, she should not forget it.

Another deep and conscious breath: bringing spirituality to matter through art.

The fear of losing her freedom had always been a powerful sensation. A commitment or having a mission is a beautiful gift and at the same time, a responsibility, this desire to belong and at the same time, this visceral need for freedom.

Contradictory? Complementary?

Luna began to accept her freedom and also the freedom to choose. She decided to live as an artist with the pros and cons, she resolved to be free of the messages and instructions that were given by her family and society, she preferred to be herself, and that was her commitment, follow her heart and transmit.

To be born to the freedom of being oneself, the one that one is.

Back to the center, but I still have to walk.

To follow the path, my path, is to create and creation is the meaning of my life, the purpose of everyone's life... even if some people do not know it or do not believe it.

Luna approached the entrance of the Labyrinth, ready to turn around one more time and move away from the center, the message, the vision. But she knew that by following the path and the signals, she would arrive at the center, at the source. She needed to sit down, she was tired, but at the same time, filled with energy.

Learning always requires energy but also gives it. The human being is an axis connected to heaven and earth, to let energy travel and purify it by recreating harmony and balance.

Sitting on the grass, she decided to take some deep breaths and meditate on the received messages. Just being.

Maybe I'll do some Ä sanas; yoga always helps me to relax and center myself. Getting to know oneself better, starting with one's body, is one of the possibilities, but to each their own.

Luna discovered yoga by searching, always searching, for a way to focus. It was with Indra Devi, also called the Lady of Yoga, a master of Hatha Yoga, a pioneer in the early twentieth century, that she found her way to connect with body and mind at the same time.

As a potter, working with clay had also shown her that the body was a unit. To make pottery, it is necessary to have developed specific physical strength and to learn to relax while remaining centered and breathing rhythmically.

Clay needs hands' pressure, but not too much; the speed of the pottery wheel in harmony with the movement of hands to throw the piece. Breathing so that everything happens in rhythm.

Years later, she learned to spin with a spinning wheel, and it turned out that there, too, she had to coordinate the rhythm of the pedals with the movement of the hands to feed wool to the spinning wheel, which creates the yarn; not forgetting the breath.

Get to know oneself better to be in harmony with oneself, with nature, and with visible or invisible beings.

Create in harmony: body and spirit.

The great Masters speak of body-mind-spirit harmony, harmony as a synonym of beauty and health.

Spiritualizing matter also means embodying art and its visions. Creativity can happen at any moment in daily life away from workshop, easel, or loom.

She finishes a short yoga session, just taking the time to focus after all the emotions of the day.

It's not over. I have to keep going, I have to get to the center of the Labyrinth, and then go out.

How long have I been here?

After yoga and meditation, Luna was in a state in between dream and wakefulness; she could feel her heart beating gently, to the rhythm of nature and the forest around her.

The birds returned from their adventures of the day to land for the night.

It's getting dark. A change of perspective. The entrance, the path... The exit?

Nature, a place full of teachings, where you can find all the questions and answers of this world and the universe: The visions of Truth, Harmony, Beauty.

All surround me, and I am part of it.

I thank life and its teachings.

It's dark, and I have to start going back.

Luna saw a carpet of violets, tiny flowers discovered from far away first thanks to their fragrance, then their color.

A presence that invites us through the different senses and allows us to be present to our body, to our sensations, the blueprint of life.

Okay, now, I'm getting close to the center. I follow the path, even if there are still curves and changes of direction. I discover the power of the source; she is calling me. I feel the light radiating. I breathe, I'm present, aware of the rhythm. Harmony of time and silence: footsteps, movement and rest, like in music.

Create your own life, rhythm, music. Music of the Soul, reminiscent of the Sound of the Universe. Listen to my inner sounds, my rhythms, my silence.

Live my life and transmit. Everyone has their own rhythm, music, and art.

I create my vision to live it, day after day, in the present moment.

I'm approaching the center.

It starts to snow, but I don't want to run or protect myself. I want to feel the snowflakes falling on me. They barely touch me and disappear by creating rays of light. A rainbow light, moonlight, sunlight. Light of the soul.

Snowflakes, how long have you been traveling? From where? Too much travel? They're arriving slowly, bringing together all the colors and all the sounds. They come; they accompany me.

Already winter? Summer? How long have I stayed in the forest? I have my backpack, my diary, my drawings.

I create my path, have I created this reality?

I have to keep going, get to the center. The snow disappears; the light guides me.

Birds perched for a moment on branches, and then they left. Small birds, always fast.

Impressions. What's left of the past are impressions, images.

A few more steps to walk the inner garden, and I will be there.

The present is all I can live. In the present, I can change a thought, a habit, a state of mind.

The colonnade surrounds the treasure of the spring covered with snow. Crystals reflect the green and orange lights of the forest, the rainbow of flowers, and the fairies that accompanied me during this long journey to the center, towards my mission, towards me.

Arriving at the center of the Labyrinth, Luna breathed deeply, looked around, and then directed her gaze towards the earth. She saw the mandala.

Crystals and flowers formed a mandala with a natural balance. Harmony and peace emanated from it. A water source spouted up from the center of the circle. Multicolored flowers created the design that surrounded the water source, and dancing droplets created dozens of rainbows.

The path she had just traveled represented the synthesis of her life: flowers like thoughts, varied and full of colors, singing birds and humming insects, and this harmony, this beauty that would accompany her outwards, towards daily life, her everyday life.

Nature is the sacred book of all teachings.

Art is a spiritual path.

Her vision had become her mission: to spiritualize her daily life and matter, through creation and art to root her spiritual being. Transmit and share.

From the center to the outside, Luna came out of the Labyrinth like a butterfly coming out of her chrysalis. She was transformed forever. A sort of purification had occurred on the path.

She remembered the Legend of the Unicorn, the mythical animal associated with purity. Meeting the flower fairies and hearing their messages confirmed her dream, her mission of life, her reason to be on this planet.

She was happy and at the same time, confused. Lost in time, uncertain about the number of hours, or days, she had just spent in the forest.

Dizziness overwhelmed her, but this feeling couldn't shatter her happiness.

It was daylight; she retrieved her shoes and began to walk.

After she left the forest, Luna arrived at the beach where she had left her two childhood friends.

When Sophie and Surya saw her arrive, they gave her welcoming waves. Luna felt that everyone was okay; no one appeared surprised or upset. The reunion seemed quite natural.

While she was sitting on the beach with her friends, Luna reflected upon how to tell Surya and Sophie what she had just experienced. She wondered if she was going to share this beautiful journey in the forest right away or wait before talking to them about it.

"So, was it nice the little walk in the woods?" asked Surya, always the most curious of the three.

"Uh...yes, nice, pretty forest. What time is it?"

Patricia Valentini: painter and textile artist, writer, and photographer, deeply inspired by nature and subtle worlds, she lives in France where she has her art studio. http://patriciavalentini.blogspot.fr https://cms.jimdo.com/cms/ https://www.instagram.com/patricia_valentini14/?hl=fr

November 2019 ISBN 978-2-9536828-8-5