As I walked the outdoor labyrinth, alone except for the trees and random squirrels, a women floated in and joined the circumnavigation of the elusive center. I had finally put my analytical mind aside and was simply receiving the path, walking it, finding what it gave. As far as my fellow walker was concerned, she didn’t play much a part in my experience, until later that is. I slowly became aware of her walking as I walked. We walked the same path but differently, with different timing. Observing labyrinth manners, we did not speak.
As I left the labyrinth and bowed myself out into the world again, I thought of the person who was still walking. I had shared a micro-moment in a sacred space with a stranger. It is unlikely that I will ever see her again, but who knows? And isn’t that the way it is in this fleeting life? Most every intersection takes us to and away from some encounter, some relationship. Sometimes we just linger longer.
In the larger scheme of life, the universal labyrinth we walk and everyone walks, aren’t the walking partners we know dramatically less in number than the strangers we don’t? We keep walking, spinning around, finding, veering off course, fainting on the journey, but it’s the same course in a thousand forms.
We walk with the unknown ancestors of a million years. And those who come after us will look at the remnants we leave behind and ask about the ones who walked before them. We did and they will. And then the labyrinth will hold more than two dimensions. It becomes a spiral galaxy spinning is course toward infinity. And we all belong, somehow, whether we know it or not, all those we know and those we don’t, just because we’re all here.