Earlier today I walked the labyrinth that folks in our congregation are building down in the woods east of our church house.The labyrinth is a work in progress. So am I.
The labyrinth is a rough walk these days. So is life, sometimes.
My labyrinth-walking companions were a cardinal watching from a nearby tree and a whippety little garden snake who zithered off under a rock. Good companions are had to come by and worth keeping.
About halfway-through the labyrinth, both going in and coming out, I got bored. That happens every time I walk a labyrinth. I have the urge to rush on out or cross the boundaries and get back to work. I did good, though. When the hurry-up vibes tickled my soul, I slowed down, plodded on, kept on labyrinthing. That's what a labyrinth is for: the countercultural, subversive act of slowing one down.
As I walked, I hummed a song: "I may not pass this way again..." Last night my wife was remembering singing that song at her elementary school graduation. The image of a group of kiddos waxing eloquent at the top of their lungs about the passing of time made me chuckle. Laughing is good. Singing is good.
Walking the labyrinth is good.
thanks, I needed a few words like this today.
ReplyDeleteTim, does it every strike you as odd looking back that we sang the song from The Gambler in elementary school? "You've got to know when to hold 'em..."
ReplyDeleteBut then again, maybe that has to do with patience too!
Lisa Muller
Yes, that does seem odd. But hey, it was the 70s. And knowing when to hold 'em and when to fold 'em is probably an important life lesson.
ReplyDelete