Quote de Jour
"Walking a labyrinth is one step closer to your Truth."
                                                                               ~LMW

About once a week, for the past few years, I've taken part in an ancient ritual: I walk a labyrinth (see below). It's one of Westchester County's best kept secrets, until now.  There's never anyone there and I'd like to keep it that way, but that would be selfish. To learn more about it go to http://www.newyorkmercy.org/

Labyrinths are circular paths of ancient origin, dating back to the Bronze age 4000 years ago. Walking a labyrinth is a metaphor for our spiritual journey to our center, our true nature. Labyrinths are not like a maze. You can't make a mistake or get lost. There is only one way in and one way out. It's a flowing right-brain intuitive journey with only one decision to make: to enter or not. For more history and resources go to http://www.labyrinthsociety.org/
There are many ways to walk the labyrinth. I usually pause before entering and state my intention. I may have a specific question or problem I need clarity about. Then, I surrender to my body and my intuition. There are no rules. I might walk slowly, mindfully, one foot in front of the other. I might walk fast, arms swinging, eyes half closed. I might dance, skip, run, leap, arms waving to the sun. I might stop and contemplate the pebbles, a fallen leaf, a cloud. There are no rules. I keep going, following the curves of the path until I get to the center. I stop and wait for some insight. Sometimes it comes like a flash. Sometimes, days later. I turn around and follow the path back to the entrance, always feeling lighter than when I entered. It has a balancing effect on the left and right hemispheres of the brain. I don't know how it works but it does.
Every season feels different. I tend linger more on a warm summer day than a cold winter day, but not always. There are no rules.
The only time I don't walk the labyrinth is when it's covered in snow. A few days ago, it melted enough for me to enter. I felt so sick that day with flu and recent grief. The icy wind slapped my cheeks. I kept going. Hot tears fell. I kept going. Every bone ached. I kept going.  I kept my eyes to the ground and at the end was rewarded with a perfect oak leaf. I gave my thanks and left.