A Strange Enlightening Walk
[a little bit of raw reflection]
I just came in from a chilly, yet very interesting labyrinth walk. Eventhough it is only 31 degrees outside and the wind is blowing to bring the wind chill down it wasn’t too bad to consider a walk in my labyrinth. Besides, I needed it.
Mondays lately have turned out to be bad days. Days when the anxiety level skyrockets, my energy level plummets and while there are always things to do (I had to make a hospital trip today) it is hard to maintain concentration. Usually it ends up being a study day. Today started out as one of those days. Even the time in centering prayer only brought limited relief from the heart-ache I usually face on Monday. And as I drove up for the hospital visit (with a dear woman I love to visit, too) I had to fight a wall of free-range anxiety. But I made the visit, had a nice time and then drove through that same wall on the way home.
So when I stepped up to the labyrinth this evening, I formulated my purpose: I want to be free of this pain.
I anticipated that the walk was going to be a hard one and that with each step toward the center, I would be picking up the pieces of hurts and sorrows that I have buried in my unconscious for years. And I hoped that if I was able to bear the pain to the center I could drop them in sacred space and symbolically walk away from them.
The trouble with expectations is that they don’t always come true.
The first step-with that set of expectations-was very hard. But strangely enough my experience was anything but that. Instead of finding myself picking up more and more pains and sorrows, I found myself dropping them off with each step until I reached the center not overburdened by it all, but able to stand straight for the first time of the day.
As I stood in the center (I decided that while I could handle the cold air, sitting on the cold cement bench was too much) my eyes caught the cross that I have hung on the garage wall. And while I don’t remember the words what I “heard” was the idea that we were never meant to carry our pains and sorrows, that was what Jesus came to do on the cross. I was carrying them needlessly.
So with a strange look on my face as I considered that new yet old idea, I walked out. And then I remembered the promise.
Come to me, all you that are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me; for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. [Matthew 11:28-29, NRSV]
So as I sit here writing, I find myself a bit bewildered, a bit hopeful, and a bit tired. Now I am wondering what the next moments will bring, but I now have a different perspective to bring to life today.
