A Journey with Labyrinths
The ancient, mysterious, and spiritual nature of a labyrinth makes it an ideal candidate for a resource for spiritual seekers in the C21st. When I decided to take labyrinths as my Sabbatical project a year in advance, I don’t think I quite realised the potential for spiritual exploration, experimentation and personal growth.
For a year, I walked a different labyrinth every month and then, during the Sabbatical period, walked 21 across the country (and 4 in America). Medieval ones, Victorian ones, contemporary ones; labyrinths cut into turf, laid into church floors, formed from creative planting in gardens, painted onto canvasses and floors, made with piping and bark, stone slabs, rocks, and temporary ones made with rope, cloths and sculpted in sand – I visited them and noted their characteristics and vital statistics but, more importantly, I walked them, and experienced them, and journaled my experiences.
For the uninitiated, a labyrinth is a maze that has only one path and, consequently, is a place where the walker cannot get lost. The pattern has an entrance, one path and a centre (which may, or may not, be at the actual centre of the design). The ‘classical’ 7 circuit design has been found across the world in all cultures, the oldest one thought to be 3,500 years old. The Romans had their own design which was often built in to their mosaics. The ‘medieval’ labyrinths are based on the 11 circuit design that was built into the nave floor at Chartres Cathedral in 1201.
In the last 25 years, there has been a resurgence of labyrinthine creation and use across the USA and the UK. Some modern labyrinths are based on the classical design, some on the medieval design and some have a contemporary design. They can be used, in a Christian context, for prayer, meditation, liturgy, and personal growth. My own experiences were different in every case but, often, transformative and healing. There is not the room here to go into further detail but if you would be interested in my journal jottings, or my book (when I have finished writing it!), do get in touch.
The climax of this initial phase of my journey with labyrinths came in August when I was able to travel to Chartres for the Cathedral’s Friday uncovering of the nave labyrinth (it is usually covered in chairs). I was moved by the number of people queuing, and walking, and making spiritual or personal journeys on the famous design. However, for me, I had experienced more significant, and transformative, encounters with God on a small painted contemporary labyrinth on a hospice chapel floor and in many other places. I have concluded that one can walk a labyrinth – or, indeed, any path – anywhere, and offered to God as a spiritual journey, the path can become a point for personal or spiritual growth, even life-changing transformation.
Jacqui Horton
This article printed in 'Grapevine' can be read at http://online.fliphtml5.com/kevr/ejqo/#p=12 complete with colour photos.