Thought for the Week: Labyrinth

Andy Stoller reflects on walking the labyrinth

I have walked the labyrinth at Woodbrooke many times: it always teaches me something about my life and myself. I have vivid memories of my first encounter with it and the panic of getting totally lost – my childhood fear. Would I ever get out? What if I took a wrong turn? It never occurred to me that I could just walk across it and be released – I felt so trapped!

Since then there have been reflections on my life’s journey, the twists and turns, never quite ending up where you think you will. What if I had taken another path? Where would that have led?

My shadow follows me. That, too, can be my dark side, conscience or God. I can’t see it behind me but know it is there. Sometimes it walks alongside and at other times it leads me. How significant is that throughout the years? I move from the outside towards the centre and that feeling of achievement when you stand in the central circle in the Light, the sun shining down. Then the return journey, comforted by knowing you have been somewhere special.

On the return path I am aware of the sounds around me, from the birds singing to the distant hum of traffic on the main road, reminding me that the ‘real world’ is not far away. Someone is in trouble as a siren wails by, and I hold a thought for that unknown situation. Life is always precarious and you never know what is around the corner, good or bad. It can change in seconds.

The scene constantly changes as I wind my way through. The sight of the nearby lake, then a turn towards the white Woodbrooke building itself, the majestic trees at that particular season, in leaf or bare. Then the open grass and meadowland. Life, too, is forever changing and never stands still.

I observe a shining dewdrop on a blade of grass, the tiniest buttercup and other wildflowers below my feet. I feel the grass cushioned under my shoes. At other times I feel the cool grass under my bare feet. The sky is sometimes blue dotted with puff-ball clouds that I watch drift by; on occasions it is grey and silver. Not for me, yet, walking in the rain – but that, too, would bring its own revelations. Time to slow down and notice and appreciate the smallest things in life.

It feels as though this is my life in microcosm – a blessing to have the opportunity to reflect and learn on my journey, stepping slowly through the labyrinth in twenty minutes.

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