Walking to Center
Finding the center, that seems to be the call of my life right now. Maybe its my age. As I approach 70 years, I am attempting to pull my life together, all those important, and maybe not so important bits of my past, my present. Maybe that’s why the labyrinth is especially attractive to me now; it beckons me in to stand at the beginning and pray in stillness for a moment. Then to take the first intentional step forward, and then another, letting Spirit lead me, step after step, into the web. I know the path of the labyrinth will take me to the center, a place of rest before venturing out again into the day. Usually I walk slowly, hands clasped behind me, clearing my mind, breathing deeply, and letting go, while asking God “What do you have for me today? What am I to do? Help me to hear.”
This past Lent, I decided to walk one labyrinth each week, hopefully a different one each time. On this cold March day, I push open the unlocked gate of the UCC church grounds, walk into the courtyard and find the dirt path that leads toward the labyrinth near the trees. As I walk towards it, I see that it is a large eleven circuit Chartres-style labyrinth made with red bricks laid in the hardened brown earth.
I pause at the entrance and ask to be open to whatever comes to me on this mini journey. I step onto the dirt path and walk slowly, hands shoved deep into my jacket pockets to warm them from the chilling winds. The branches of trees toss wildly back and forth, their new green leaves creating a lively dance above me. The wind is invigorating as I move step by step, occasionally gazing up at the dancing tree limbs. It is enlivening to be in this wild place of wind, trees, grass, and the secure path of the labyrinth.
There’s something magical or maybe mystical and unknown about how moving physically through the winding path feels as I pray silently, in and out, around the many turns. At first, I find that the path takes me quite near the center, which is always surprising, then another turn and another that takes me back towards the outer edge of the circle. Life is like that, feeling so close to what my purpose is and then suddenly going a different direction and getting pulled away to something else.
This day my prayer intention is to be totally present to God and to seek guidance in the direction of my life choices. Where am I to devote my time and energy now? I ponder these thoughts as I walk, the wind whipping my short grey hair around my head. I rejoice in being outside in the natural world that always connects me with my core, my essence and place in the world, God’s amazing creation. The cool wind high in the trees makes me even more aware of the mystery of God.
At each 180-degree change of direction in the labyrinth I ponder the many turns in my life, not all of them good. Life is like that, full of ups and downs, surprises alongside the mundane and every day. I shift my attention back to the present, the path, the cold wind, the trees, life right now, in this moment, feet stepping solidly on the hard ground, turning as the path wanders, moving forward step by step, pausing at a sharp bend in the path just to think before going on.
After many turns, I reach the very heart of the labyrinth, the center. I am relaxed, more present, more awake. I take my time to linger, silently facing each of the four directions, West, South, North, East and throw my prayers through the trees into the wind. Eventually I turn and walk the same path out to the starting point. I step peacefully, bravely(?) into the future, or at least the present; that’s all we have is the present and I, we, are meant to live fully into it. Right. Now. I am alive and all is well.
Linda Kelly, M.S., M.Div. is a semi-retired United Methodist pastor, a spiritual director/supervisor, and a member of FUMSDRL/Hearts on Fire. These reflections represent the view of the author..