Some years ago, I was on the verge of making a pretty major decision in my life. I had opinions and perspectives coming at me from all sides, but realized that more than anything, I needed to get away from everyone else’s perspective, and just listen to that still, small voice. So I packed a small bag, jumped on a plane, and flew from Portland to San Francisco. Down here, I checked myself in to a retreat center for an eight-day silent retreat.
Which is perhaps a subject for another diary sometime.
Welcome to Brothers and Sisters, the weekly meetup for prayer* and community at Daily Kos. We put an asterisk on pray* to acknowledge that not everyone uses conventional religious language, but may want to share joys and concerns, or simply take solace in a meditative atmosphere. Anyone who comes in the spirit of mutual respect, warmth and healing is welcome.
But while there, I took part in an ancient practice twice a day – I walked a labyrinth. This one, in fact:
This labyrinth sits in a slightly wooded area on the grounds of Mercy Center, sponsored by the Sisters of Mercy (and with their peaceful charism ever-present), but with a strong Zen background as well. The labyrinth itself was the project of the late Fr. Thomas Hand, SJ, a Jesuit priest who also went by the honorific name "Hando", honoring his nearly 30 years of service and training in Japan. He was one of the first Western Catholic religious to seriously study Zen, and when he returned to the US and to the Mercy Center, he created an atmosphere there that welcomed practitioners of Eastern and Western traditions. My own spiritual practices in the previous years had been more aligned with a Tibetan Buddhism path, and my childhood nuns had been Sisters of Mercy. When I was looking for a place to find some peace, to sit, to think, to pray* - Mercy Center was the obvious place to go.
My mind doesn't enter into silence easily, yet the rhythmic steps and pattern settled me down, and gave direction to my days. After about three days, I could think clearly, and then for the next few days, I was able to just be - and to discern whether the direction shift in my life was the correct one to take. I did all of my serious thinking and prayer after each walk, but then was able to relax and breathe through the week.
Labyrinths have become a popular component of many people’s spiritual practice over the past few years, but they’re certainly not new themselves. Some patterns date back to the 12th century, and many medieval cathedrals were constructed with them as essential features, most notably the cathedral in Chartres, in France. One of the most well-known labyrinth paths that pilgrims wander today, in fact, is a replica of the Chartres labyrinth.
There’s plenty of resources online that describe various types of labyrinths and how some incorporate them into their spiritual practices. The Mercy Center labyrinth, as well as the outdoor labyrinth at
Grace Episcopal Cathedral in San Francisco, are both places I’ve walked often, although perhaps not often enough these days. Grace happens to have some excellent introductory material about labyrinths, though, as well as photos of their indoor and outdoor Chartres-style paths.
A labyrinth I’ve not yet walked but want to someday – I have family members who farm wheat in Kansas. I was reminded by my uncle yesterday that on that farm they have a labyrinth, one about as far removed from the outdoor labyrinth at Grace, where the city’s lights and sound are ever present.
And yet
they are in fact the same. Each journey begins on the edge, travels to the center, and returns to the world once again. In Chartres, Kansas, or San Francisco, we make our pilgrimage alone in the labyrinth, and yet we all walk together as well.
I've not been able to get to either the Mercy Center or Grace Episcopal in a long time. It's ironic, because I visited Grace fairly often when I lived in Portland but traveled down here for work, but now that I'm in San Jose, daily life all too often intrudes into time that I need for renewal. In my room, though, I have a treasured gift, a hand labyrinth that I received shortly after I moved here, when some close friends visited Mercy Center for the day and were able to walk the labyrinth.
Every few days - and probably not often enough at that - I "walk" this path gently with the pointer, breathing, letting my mind slow down and relax into the journey.
Services tonight are a little short – my apologies. I’m finishing up some work for my local chapter of Justice for Immigrants - speaking of sometimes difficult journeys and walking long and winding paths. I profoundly overcommitted myself this summer and fall, quite unintentionally, but I’m looking forward to some downtime Real Soon Now – possibly as soon as next weekend. I need to get to San Francisco some night, to walk the labyrinth amidst the city lights, to leave the chaos behind and walk inward to the center, and then to emerge again for whatever comes next.
Pull up a cup of whatever it is you’re enjoying tonight – for me, it’s Oolong tea – and share where your journey’s taken you. If you have labyrinth stories or photos, post those below as well. All are welcome here.
~pax.