HOW DO WE FIND INNER GUIDANCE?

Aren’t we all lifelong learners, from books, from people, from experiences? 

When I learn from walking through life, I make notes. For example: A labyrinth taught me to trust the inner guidance from the still small voice within. So, I noted, (after the labyrinth story that follows):

Quiet moments, or silent walks alone or together, speak. Listen.

Now the story, with my learning notes: Labyrinths are ancient single one-way spiral footpaths that wind around until we arrive at the center. Unlike mazes, labyrinths have no wrong turns. Often built in churchyards and huge fields, stones or simple dirt and grass mark the pattern. Labyrinths are…well… labyrinthine, full of twists and turns. 

Note: Life, too, progresses as a labyrinth, full of twists and turns.

I walked my first labyrinth in Tucson, Arizona on a sacred desert retreat. I had come to heal sorrow. Two of my dear friends, both 53, had just died. A young labyrinth guide, Sophia, assured our group: “Look at the pattern. See? You cannot get lost. Follow the circuitous design, and the way will show itself as you advance. However you go is good. Carry a question, a want, an intention or a need, as you stroll toward the center. Once there, stop. Remember your ‘why’ for choosing the labyrinth. Then wait to hear any still small voice.”

Note: Pause outside movement and pay attention inside.

With Sophia’s permission to make the walk our own, I prayed, “Divine Spirit, my heavy heart hurts. What does the soul ask of me now? What do I not grasp about life and death? Help me bear this grief. How do these early deaths of two good people make sense? How does existence make sense?”

Note: Keep asking. Questions matter.

I thought, “perhaps the labyrinth offers one way to journey to an inner sanctum.” So, left, right, left, right, I approached the center, where recent walkers had placed dried flowers and soft feathers. Once there, my feet stopped. My body stilled. My mind settled. I opened my ears and heard only the beckoning of birds, the whoosh of wind and the shuffle of other amblers. I doubted I would gain clarity. Then a deep whisper spoke, “Our days and years do bring pain. And to be alive is also a gift. You are meant to open the gift and enjoy.”

Note: As human beings, we cry and laugh. 

I relaxed, breathed, then placed one foot in front of the other, walking from the center. I wondered, “I don’t get it. Open? And what about understanding two early deaths?”

Sophia had told us, “Messages you receive might not seem like answers; more like mystery. Mysteries don’t unravel in one visit, often not in one lifetime.” 

Note: Mysteries might not explain the unknown.

For years, I have repeated these words: “Open. Life is a gift. You are meant to enjoy it. Open. Gift. Enjoy.”

“Open. Life is a gift. Enjoy” helps me learn what the labyrinth teaches. And “No way to get lost; no wrong turns” feels like one of those gifts, a communion with the grace of the world. 

Sometimes I step into a labyrinth as emotions like mad, sad and glad swirl at the same time in my gut. Thoughts spin. I do get lost in myself and can’t feel my heartbeat. Tears flood my eyes. Then living feels more like a muddled messy maze. Yet twisting and turning in the labyrinth, slowing down, listening within, I learn to navigate human twists and turns, life-death, ups and downs in relationships, the twists and turns this country has taken.

Note: Slow down.

Often, I walk alone in a nearby labyrinth, tucked in a grove of tall trees. In the fall, I hear the leaves crunch under me as my feet step, step, step. Pinecones drop around me; the towering trees encourage me, teach me, to let go. I pray: “Thanks for this place. Please guide me. Wow for this beauty.” This simple prayer focuses me on the landing of this footfall, and then the next.

Note: Touching the good Earth is one way to find ourselves. 

Sometimes I walk with a friend. We ask our own questions. We take our separate steps. I stand at barely 5’1”, he at 6’3”. We come from distant continents: he from Africa, my ancestors from Northern Europe. Our skin is not the same. Our spiritual and religious paths differ. Thirty years separate our ages. We come from separate cultures. Each of our native tongues is a foreign language to the other. No matter. 

Note: Being alive asks us to learn and grow alone and together, often at the same time.

Experiences differ on these walks, as in any inner journey. Some people feel nothing in a labyrinth and have other meditative or contemplative pathways. Others, like me, feel a bond with gravity, with solid ground, nature, Spirit, Source. Some feel the center as a place to pray and seek God. However we go is good. 

Note: Good can smell like evergreens. Good can sound like birdsong. Good can feel like autumn air. Good can be sharing life’s winding ways. Good can mean finding our way out of being lost.

Maybe the biggest learning is in our questions: Where and how do we seek answers to our unanswerable questions? How do we move through this labyrinthine life? And perhaps most importantly, how do we turn to and find our own inner guidance? 

There are many labyrinths for anyone to walk in Maine. Here are a few:

St. Luke’s Cathedral  143 State St Portland

University of New England  716 Stevens Ave. Portland

Labyrinth in the Woods   90 Maurice Drive   Brunswick 

St. Joseph’s College  278 White’s Bridge Rd. Standish