Many years ago I read a blog by Martha Beck that highlighted how as we hurry through this labyrinth we call life, we often forget to be where we are. She talked about how we choose to look forward to where we are going or behind to see where we have been. Yet, life is neither a linear path to be tread nor a maze to be solved but rather a meandering route to be enjoyed.
And while we’re not here to walk a straight line while checking off tasks we often get caught up in doing just that.
The labyrinth is a great metaphor not only for our life but also for the many aspects within our life.
Raising children, work, relationships, our appearance and really, most every aspect of our lives, are all a walk through a labyrinth.
Sometimes when we think we are close to the end, the labyrinth takes a turn and we find ourselves closer to the middle. This can happen when a friendship we thought was over rekindles or when looking for a new job we find ourselves promoted into an exciting position at our current place of employment.
At other times we’re surprised to find ourselves at the end of the labyrinth sooner than expected. This can happen when things end unexpectedly or when an ending inches up on us.
After reading Martha’s article, I was sharing the content with a friend who directed me to the worldwide labyrinth locator site so I could find a labyrinth to walk.
As luck would have it, I discovered a labyrinth tucked into the peaceful courtyard of a church just blocks from my home and I now often find myself there as I finish walking the dog.
Most days, as I walk the labyrinth, said dog sits down directly on the path and it bugs the heck out of me because it disrupts the flow of my meditative walk.
However, today I noticed something different.
I realized how lucky I was to have a dog on my path.
I had the thought that just like how walking the labyrinth reminds me to slow down and appreciate exactly where I am, so does what sits on my path.
Today, as I walked the labyrinth, I realized how many of life’s moments I’ve rushed through, essentially stepping over the dog on my path so I could keep moving forward at the same pace.
But really, our daily activities are a chance to slow down and experience and appreciate what is going on in our lives, right here and right now.
Today, the labyrinth and the dog on my path were a gentle reminder to be exactly where I am. And for that, I am grateful.
Something to contemplate: What’s sitting on your path that could be transformed from an obstacle into an object of joy?