A Labyrinth

I’ve been talking about mazes with a twitter friend recently.

I was reminded of a time a few years agowhen  I went on a training course given by Margaret Underwood, an expert in learning styles and educational Kinesiology from New Zealand.

She had brought along a huge piece of silk which on which she had traced a copy of the maze from Chartres Cathedral in Northern France.

One lunch-time she invited anyone who was interested to walk along the maze in silence.  I’m not at a religious person and not even a spiritual one but I decided to give this opportunity a go.

My friend Ross Cooper and I started off side by side.  We walked together a little space and then turned a corner.  From that point on we each trod our own individual path.

I walked on in silence, musing on how my feet were being led by a path whose end I could not see.

I turned and was astonished to see Ross at the far end of the maze, out of reach, unreachable.  I felt alone, almost bereft as he silently paced away from me.

I bent my footsteps once again and continued.  A few minutes later I looked up and saw Ross only a few steps from me, walking towards me.  I felt relieved, only to see him take a sharp turn and disappear from view.

This is like life, I thought.

I had got it.  The idea of the labyrinth.

A few minutes later I turned a corner and found myself walking side by side with Ross once again.  We reached the end together, as we had started.

I have heard that the maze was designed as a symbol of a person’s life.

I was moved by the experience, intrigued and thoughtful.

I’d like to walk it again one day.