I’ve walked labyrinths before, including the famous labyrinth of Chartres Cathedral in France, the portable labyrinth of Habitat Spirituality Centre @ Augustine, and the Easter labyrinth at Croydon Uniting Church. I’ve even used just half the portable labyrinth at a Wisdom’s Feast at Norval in the Grampians. But I’ve never walked a labyrinth behind a lawn mower before …
Chartres cathedral labyrinth
Easter labyrinth at Croydon Uniting Church, designed by Carolyne Chandler
Portable labyrinth at Wisdom’s Feast, Shepparton 2012
Over the weekend my parents’ grass labyrinth needed mowing, so on Sunday morning I walked their labyrinth behind a lawn mower. It’s not the most peaceful way to walk (though a good pair of ear muffs cut out most of the noise), but I did appreciate the careful dimensions of the brick edging laid out by my parents: just the width of their mower wheels.
Grass labyrinth at St Andrew’s Beach
The regular pattern of the labyrinth – arc and turn, arc and turn – is distinct from a maze, and you never get lost in a labyrinth. Yet the regular turns still manage to surprise the walker as the intricate pattern winds inwards towards the centre. As a metaphor for life, and as a spiritual practice, there are many layers of meaning or interpretations.
Labyrinths are simplest to walk as an individual, but a community of walkers can gently communicate without words as they weave in and out of the pathway. This gentle sharing of the journey provides yet more layers of metaphor for life. There are twists and turns, surprises of various kinds, and a centre around which we move and towards which we are each headed.
In the busy-ness of life I simply appreciated the sun on my face, the breeze on my skin, and the regular physical movement which gave my mind an opportunity to reflect on the precious gift of this life.
