During a recent visit to Tucson, Arizona, I encountered a labyrinth on my morning walk. I had walked this particular labyrinth before, but this time it had something new for me. Pink Desert Willow blossoms welcomed me at the labyrinth entrance. Thoughts and plans slipped away under my feet and their rhythmic “crunch,” “crunch,” “crunch,” on the gravel path.
Bird of Paradise bush visible at the labyrinth center.
Twists and turns arrived quickly at first, followed by longer stretches along the outside edges of the labyrinth. Just when I wondered if I had missed a turn, the center of the labyrinth appeared in front of me. I paused and listened to the birds’ hymns, looked up at the expansive blue sky and relaxed into the moment.
A huge green Bird of Paradise bush faced me with its tiny leaves dancing in the light breeze. I exited the center, retracing my steps on the labyrinth path, “crunch,” “crunch,” “crunch.”
More turns and long stretches quickly became a short final few steps to the labyrinth’s end. I was back at the beginning, looking at a blackened dead tree with green trees behind it. The dead tree was not obviously damaged or even interesting. It was just rather matter-of-factly dead in and among the other plants and trees.
Labyrinths are intended to allow people to take a sacred pilgrimage journey without leaving home. For me, on this day, the labyrinth demonstrated the original life story:
We inhabit the ever present cycle of birth, living and dying that take the form of transitions and change in many different iterations and forms throughout life.
In modern society we carefully avoid and insulate ourselves from the grief of transitions and endings, and death itself. We tend to view these as inconvenient barriers to be avoided or overcome; or, as abnormal, something to fear or reject or recoil from, or, stressful, sad and endlessly depressing. The labyrinth and its plants illustrated for me the natural mundane beauty of it all.
Dead tree at the end of the labyrinth.
I came away feeling strongly connected with the ordinary-ness of the cycle of birth, life and death. We experience twists and turns and long meandering stretches on the journey. There is a center point where we might be filled with anticipation, joy, regret or peace depending on our perspective at the time.
On my recent birthday, I reflected on the twists and turns I navigated in my early life and career, and the long stretches I’ve walked with my family life with loved ones. I could lament physical changes, losses, choices made and regrets. I can also reflect on the weight of good days, love, friendship, success and joy in my life.
Whatever the future brings, I will be guided by the rhythmic sound of my feet on a path on which leads me to some beautiful places, surprises and natural endings. I can learn to accept this process of life unfolding with peace and gratitude.
The labyrinth at the Westward Look Resort in Tucson, Arizona is a “classical” labyrinth designed by Raymundo Ocampo and installed in September 2007. Learn more about labyrinths and find one near you using the World Wide Labyrinth Locator.
