Labyrinthine

Last night I walked the labyrinth at the cathedral. It's painted on a canvas cloth that they unroll once a month for Labyrinth Night - the cathedral stays open late and they play dulcimer music while people shuffle around the paths in their socks. I used to be really interested in labyrinths, I visited cornfield and stone labyrinths, and once helped paint one. This is the first time I've walked the one at the cathedral though.

The good thing about it is the feeling of peace that radiates from everyone - they're all in a New Agey frame of mind, and if you make eye contact with someone they give you a warm, accepting smile. The bad thing is that you can feel like you are supposed to have deep thoughts, and it's frustrating if you don't.

Here are some thoughts I had while I was walking:
- Mine were the worst socks in the room. Most people had nice, thick wool socks. My socks were dingy white and had holes in the toes that I mended with brown thread. I should just throw them out, but they're still wearable so I'd feel guilty.
- If the journey through the labyrinth is supposed to represent your life, and the way you walk it reflects who you are, then two things about me are that I am fast and non-confrontational. I walked as slowly as I could, but it was still about twice as fast as everyone else. I couldn't help it. I also couldn't stand being behind someone. I had to get around all those slow-shufflers and have a clear path ahead. And every time I came to a point where someone else was walking toward me on the same path, I was the one who dodged to the side. I think fast and non-confrontational are very much the way I am in the rest of my life. It's worked so far, but what will happen as I get older, and I can't simply speed away?
- Men don't hug each other very much. I saw lots of women hugging, but only one hug between men, and they looked like very old friends. Why is that? Do men not enjoy hugging as much? Maybe they don't get the same rush of endorphins from it? It always seemed kind of unfair to me that kids run to their mothers for a hug and don't seek out their dads the same way - the dads are usually hovering awkwardly in the background, as though waiting to be included. Do they wish their kids would hug them? or are they frankly embarrassed by the whole thing?
- It's easy to feel pure and clean and spiritually at peace when everything in your life is pretty much okay. What's hard is remembering that feeling and calling it up in times of crisis.
- In the same vein, I thought as I walked around how affectionate I felt toward the people in my life, how if anyone I knew was there, I would be glad to see them, and would readily forgive whatever there was to forgive between us. Today, that spell has worn off and I feel as aggrieved as ever toward certain individuals.
- So much of life is beyond our control. The ability to enter a "state of denial", as a mother told me recently, about the constant danger to loved ones, is vital - or you could never bear to let them out of your sight. I used to wish I could gather together everyone I loved and have us all live together in a kind of dormitory - just so I'd know they were all safe. But even then I wouldn't be able to protect everyone. You just have to hope, and take the precautions you can, and try not to think about a lot of things. It almost makes me feel like I shouldn't have kids, because it will only mean more people to worry about and potential for devastation if anything happens to them.

And that's it for my labyrinth thoughts.