Practicing with Labyrinths

Labyrinth drawn on a church in Hesselager, Denmark
via Labrinthos

The beauty of labyrinths is that you can't get lost. As a spiritual practice, walking a labyrinth can help you develop security in following a path that you can't really understand.

Lately I've also been interested in the creative practice of drawing labyrinths (they're small enough you can "walk" with your finger). Did you know that the classical cross pattern (featured above) can be drawn by following a "seed" pattern? I wish I could go back to math class and learn more about labyrinth theory. I think there's something magical about arriving at a complex drawing from the beginning seeds of nodes and edges. It reverses the practice a little—you start with simplicity and arrive at a drawing you can't quite untangle without tracing the lines.

If you're interested in learning to draw labyrinths, check out Celestial Labyrinths, a website based on the book "Labyrinths and Their Secrets" (Labirinti i njihove tajne) by Adrian P. Kezele. I'm personally drawn to the Mercury and Venus labyrinths.

Yoga Practice: Migration

Bird migration at Eddystone Lighthouse, by Charles Samuel Keene

Watching birds fly south as the seasons change, I've been noticing my own movements as life around me changes and unfolds. I'm not sure where I'm headed, but like the birds, I seem to have some internal homing sense that leads me and pulls me along to the next destination.

Here are some things that have been meaningful to my yoga practice of late:

• Sun salutations with a pause to move back and forth between extended side-angle pose and reverse warrior pose. It feels a little bit like I'm stretching my wings and getting ready to fly.
• Finding eagle pose, then shifting my non-standing leg forward and then back to warrior three feels a little bit like I'm taking account of my situation and then letting go to soar.
• Taking time to do some some scissor jumping jacks with arms outstretched makes me feel little like I'm getting somewhere fast.
• Stretching out with heron and pigeon. These poses remind me that even birds need to take a rest from traveling now and then. 

Day of the Fool

The Fool, by Beatriz Inglessis

Happy April Fool's Day!

How wonderful is it that our culture has a day to celebrate fools and jokes? Because aren't we all "fools" in some way or another? Isn't the joke always on us? We go through life, thinking we're somehow different from all the other crazy people out there, but we're not any different! 

In the tarot world, the major cards of the deck tell the story of the Fool's journey towards wisdom and understanding. Unlike some hero born for greatness, the Fool starts out with very little besides hope and a smile on his face.

Often there is a small dog following behind the Fool, nipping at his heels or pulling at his pants. I like to think of the dog as the trickster, or the un-integrated parts of ourselves that like to make jokes at our expense. 

Today, honor the Fool by noticing how many times the joke's on you, and then laugh and enjoy the journey. 

Viking Compass

The Viking compass, sunstone, or Vegvísir was supposedly a magical bit of technology that allowed sailors (or pillagers, depending on how you want to write history) to find their way even on foggy days, when the sun was hidden. Visit Pantheon for a nice historical summary of the Viking compass. 

Regardless of the Vikings' behavior, you have to admit, they were brave, sailing around in the fog and the cold. It takes courage to follow a little compass when there's nothing but water around you and you have no view of the sky above. 

I think the Vegvísir a beautiful symbol of the philosopher's stone, which I would say is a beautiful symbol for something else. (But what that is, I'm not saying.) Visit Jeff League, who seems to get the connection, for some beautiful art featuring antique maps and encaustic painting. 

At Home, At Sea

At Home at Sea, by Timothy Karpinski

I'm still thinking about the sea these days. Timothy Karpinski's art captures the question I think I've been asking, which is, Can I make a home and a place of steadiness in a constantly changing life? Can I be comfortable in not knowing much at all?


"On the Sea-Shore. I would not build myself a house (it is an element of my happiness not to be a house-owner!). If I had to do so, however, I should build it, like many of the Romans, right into the sea, - I should like to have some secrets in common with that beautiful monster."

    —The Gay Science, #240, Frederich Nietzsche

Dream Keeper

Interdependent Cycles, by Martin Hill

"True power and wisdom comes from within: When a man realizes his oneness with all creation. When he realizes that at the center of the universe dwells a power greater than his self. This center is everywhere. It is is within each of us. Go now, and walk the good red road."

    —Dreamkeeper

(A disclaimer: The "good red road" means something unattainable to me: it means bravery, sacrifice, and often, violence, because being connected to the earth isn't all flowers and rainbows. I don't think that the "red road" is just another name for a unified spiritual path; it's tied to a specific life-way. This post is just an attempt to honor the wisdom that I see, without appropriating it.)

Freedom or Gold

"Have you ever seen anything more beautiful? Come on, man, look around us. Do you realize what we've got? We can work when we want, sleep where we will, eat from the Lord's bounty. . . . We're free. The two freest men in the whole world."

    —Alexander McKeag, a character in the Centennial miniseries

Richard Chamberlain as Alexander McKeag (captured by me)

We just finished watching the Centennial miniseries (which I also posted about here). My favorite episodes were the first three because they dealt with the exciting, strange, and heartbreaking encounter between Europeans and Native Americans, and the environment of North America. If you enjoy historical dramas on cable, such as Deadwood or John Adams, I think you'd enjoy Centennial.

The point of this post isn't to review the series, though; it's to share the best moment in the series. It's when two trappers argue about what's worth striving for: freedom or gold. Go to 3:48 in the video, and watch at least to 5:23. I think it's a dialogue that every one has at one point or another.

Song of the Day: End of the Line

I heard the Traveling Wilburys singing "End of the Line" the other day, and it instantly made me feel like I was ready for whatever the day brought. No matter what, it was going to be all right.

"Well it's all right, even if they say you're wrong
Well it's all right, sometimes you gotta be strong
Well it's all right, as long as you got somewhere to lay
Well it's all right, everyday is judgement day"

(You know the Traveling Wilburys, right? They're the Avengers-like group of music superheros: Bob Dylan, George Harrison, Jeff Lynne, Tom Petty, and Roy Orbison. Awesome.)

Sacred Space: Chartres Cathedral

It's time for another pilgrimage, friends!

This time, we'll visit the great cathedral of Chartres, completed in 1290. (My husband and I visited the cathedral just this summer, while it was undergoing renovations. It's amazing how light the stone became when renovated; it's a completely different space--light and happy. We're looking forward to seeing again some day when the renovations are complete.)

Chartres is famous for its beautiful, old stained glass. Much of it is a gorgeously rich blue color. Besides the lovely colors, the artists creatively portrayed the classic stories of the Bible. One of the most famous windows is called the "Blue Virgin." Below her are panels depicting Christ's temptations and the wedding at Cana. (Isn't it a lovely transformational image? struggle with the shadow → marriage of opposites → wisdom...)

The "Blue Virgin" of Chartres, taken by me

Chartres is also famous for its labyrinth, which visitors can still walk along each Friday in the summer. I love labyrinths, because they symbolize the great faith required in spiritual wandering. As you walk, you wonder, when will I reach the center? But the beautiful thing is, you always do reach the center, the rose of enlightenment. You're never lost.

from the book Alle Tiders Labyrinter, by Jørgen Thordrup, via Lavigne