Finding our way on World Labyrinth Day

One Thursday night, not too long ago, I stepped through the doors of St. Andrew’s-Wesley United, in downtown Vancouver. The spectacular vaulted roof and stained-glass windows were bathed in an indigo glow, and candles flickered from the giant labyrinth painted on the floor.

The glimmering pathways stirred a memory: A love story. Theseus and Ariadne. A magical ball of string. A Cretan labyrinth. The Minotaur murdered. More violent deaths. No happy endings for anyone in that labyrinthine tale.

I could say the experience changed me. Gave me a better sense of direction. But it didn’t. Getting lost is something I still do regularly. But not usually in such a small space, with a single pathway, leading to a clearly delineated destination.

There were two people already in the labyrinth. And suddenly I was faced with a dilemma: If I entered now, at some point in my journey I would bump into someone else.

cused simply on getting to the centre. Without crashing into anyone. Without stepping out of my lane. Or taking a wrong turn. Or kicking over a candle. When I reached the centre, (was I too quick, or too slow?) I accidentally made eye contact with the crystal musician. So excited to have made it, I smiled. She smiled back.

Baker

Director

melissabaker @westvanbeacon.ca

Please note that all contributing writers for The Beacon retain full rights and that the full or partial reproduction of feature articles is unauthorized without the consent of the author. Personal opinions, beliefs and viewpoints expressed are solely those of the respective contributors and do not necessarily reflect the opinions, beliefs and viewpoints of the Beacon, the publisher or the editorial and creative staff.

Submissions for The Beacon

The Beacon is delivered bi-monthly to 5000+ households between Lions Bay and Dundarave. For submission guidelines and queries, please e-mail the Editor: lindypfeil@ westvanbeacon.ca

Please note that all submissions are subject to space constraints and editing. For advertising queries, please e-mail the Director of Marketing: pennymitchell@westvanbeacon.ca

For all other queries, please e-mail the Publisher: chrisstringer@westvanbeacon.ca

All editions of The Beacon (beginning in September 2013), can also be read online at: www.westvanbeacon.ca.

It’s just a myth, I reminded myself.

In recent years, labyrinths have been making a revival worldwide. Much like a pilgrimage, walking a labyrinth encourages meditation. Contemplation. First comes the journey to the sacred destination (the centre of the labyrinth) during which you are supposed to release all your worries. The centre (the destination) is where you receive clarity. And finally, the walk back from the centre is to integrate new possibilities. Or something like that.

I removed my shoes and socks and made my way, barefoot, across the floor.

As I reached the entrance, I overheard the lady explaining the process to another labyrinth virgin.

“If you get lost, don’t worry.”

Lost? My throat tightened.

I once got so lost, on a pilgrimage in Spain, that I thought I might die. By the time I stumbled back onto the path, I was so dehydrated that the skin on my thighs draped like dilapidated lace curtains over my kneecaps. I wish

If

What was labyrinth protocol? Could there be eye contact? A smile? Acknowledgement? Or should eyes be kept piously averted? Would I have to sidestep to get out of the way? Would that take me into the wrong lane? Like an errant relay runner? And once that happened, would I ever find my way to the centre?

I started sweating, despite the icy stone floor beneath my toes. I’m not averse to breaking a rule every now and then, but not knowing the rules causes me to panic.

Crystal bowls chimed. Delay was no longer an option. I swallowed my fear, stepped tentatively onto the path, and started walking.

I did not think about releasing anything. Or meditating. Or transforming. I was fo-

I tried to remember what was supposed to happen next. I was pretty sure the lady had explained what I should do. Was I meant to sit down? Say a prayer? Which one? Turn around? I couldn’t remember a thing she’d said. So, I just stood there, eyes closed, breathing. In. Out. Grateful for this thing. So small. So big. Breath. Life. Walking. Time.

I turned and headed back down the path. The way I’d just come. It felt new, not familiar at all. I focused on my toenails. They seemed awfully bright in the dim light. Unusually perky. Happy even. I watched them take one step at a time. Convinced they would not find the exit. Which, of course, was really the entrance.

But they did.

A little miracle.

World Labyrinth Day takes place every year on the first Saturday in May. People around the world participate in a moving meditation for peace. (Details at worldlabyrinthday.org.) There is a worldwide labyrinth locator at veriditas.org, and to walk the St. Andrew’s-Wesley labyrinth, visit standrewswesley.com.

Perhaps I’ll see you on the labyrinth. Perhaps there will be eye contact. Maybe even a smile. As we find our way. Or the minotaur.