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It was a warm, humid day in August 2006, typical of Florida, only I was in southern Missouri. Standing at the edge of a field of wheat grass, I felt much smaller than my 5’4” stature, by comparison. As I began to step into the field, on the two foot wide mown path, a heat wave of claustrophobia struck me. Looking down to get my bearings, I noticed a stalk of wheat grass stuck in the buckle of my right Birkenstock sandal. As I slowly walked on, I raised my head and saw a hazy blue sky above me. I glanced around and saw through the thin walls of the wheat grass in front of me the open spaces where the mown path continued around me. It was like a maze, only I’d learned this labyrinth was designed as a single circular path around and leading into a center circle. I soon found myself walking the path at ease, in harmony with the simple pace of nature around me; crickets slowly chirping, the random flitting of insects around me and the slight dance of the wheat grass as the air gently shifted.
My guide gave me questions to ask myself at each turn of the labyrinth path. The questions related to tolerations I was experiencing in my life, naming a specific one and noticing the ways it was showing up in the different areas of my life. I now felt so safe, so securely held in this space, that I found myself answering from a deep place within, someplace I didn’t often visit. The proverbial floodgates opened and tears flowed down my cheeks; I didn’t realize how much sadness, pain and anger I had been holding. Eventually I came upon the center circle of the labyrinth, took a seat on a perfectly placed log and let it all go. I may have stayed there for 15 minutes or a half hour, I’m not sure, but suddenly I awoke to a prickly sensation on the outside of my right foot. That stalk of wheat grass at my buckle had shimmied down behind the front band of my sandal and was poking my foot. I’d been told to use everything that happened on the path as a metaphor for my life. So, I began to ponder the meaning of this silly piece of wheat grass that had managed to work its way into my sandal and travel along the path with me,
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without my invitation mind you. Then I realized, this was a decision point. Now that I was fully aware of the source of my discomfort, would I take action to end it or instead simply decide to tolerate it? I knew this decision wasn’t really about the wheat grass in my sandal; it was about what I’d discovered about myself during my journey into the center. I pulled the stalk of wheat grass out of my sandal and committed myself to leaving this toleration behind me. What I wasn’t sure of was how I would accomplish my goal. A little confused, I began my walk out of the labyrinth.
Fortunately, again my guide had provided questions for me to ponder, this time upon my return. These questions related to what I wanted in my life in place of this particular toleration and all the new ways that I would experience my life with this change in place. With every turn I took, every question and response, I imagined experiencing my life differently. I became inspired. I saw butterflies and contemplated myself as one of them, having just struggled out of the cocoon of the caterpillar’s chrysalis, freely floating on the air. I was energized and my pace quickened. I began to plan the first thing I would do to incorporate this freedom into my life; I would share my experience and plans with my family. I needed them to support me in the change that I was making. But wait, where did the path go? Where am I? Startled, I found myself outside of the labyrinth. I looked back at the opening of the path. I smiled and laughed at myself, acknowledging that I truly was at the beginning of a new path … in my life.
Kathy Igoe is a Career and Life Coach, Labyrinth Facilitator and founder of Integral Life Designs. Her passion is to assist individuals on their path of self-discovery and new beginnings. She regularly guides labyrinth walks in SE Michigan. Discover more at www.IgoeCoach.com or call 248.854.4266. |
