After class and an errand, I found myself near the Regis Labyrinth, and naturally stopped to walk. How beautiful is today! A Henry David Thoreau day. “We shall have no more of these days….”
The ordinary pebble I picked up broke through the plain Jane outer covering and revealed glittering crystals inside. Much like geodes. And, some people. Outside plain. Inside a delight. And a mystery for we never know what is inside until we crack it open. (Read take time to get to know another.) The plates with words along the way kept me focused. Pray…Forgive…(have) Patience…Instruct…Comfort. Standing in the center, I found one of the two pebbles I have left there before. The one with a plain outer covering that had been shorn in two, revealing dark minerals inside. Again, without having been broken, we would never know its underlying nature. Yet, it is a broken pebble. Not complete. Much like us. Wounded Healers all. (Have to get that book to re-read.) Other pilgrims have walked this Labyrinth during “frost out” leaving only footprints, now weather and time-worn. One set is just a depression in the now solid ground. The other more distinctive with its waffle pattern. I’m curious about the pilgrims and wonder what they experienced. This labyrinth always has comforted and inspired me. Partly because it is on a hilltop and I can see off.
Amazingly when I ended the walk, having just looked up at the cross visible through the evergreens, was bowing and saying “Thank you,” the chimes at Mount Mercy University rang, four parts, followed by two deeper gongs signaling the hour. The sky was lapis lazuli blue and a large raptor winged overhead.
At home, I picked up the Sedona-labyrinth inscribed red rock that fits into my palm just right. And walked the 1080 Laughing Labyrinth. Interestingly to me, my mind was quite unfocused. I noticed the winter weary plant stalks. The glittery rocks from many places in the country. Big Honkin’ Rock that Tina P and I moved along with help from Rich. The swelling buds of the magnolia tree. Pileated holes drilled into the limbs of the tree. Sat on the benches. Considered the many feathers tucked here and there, showing lots of wear. Picked up a fallen branch. Marveled at the vole tunnels left from winter. And, was at Center. All the time I had kept walking. Was sort of “in the moment” noticing. But, I guess, was “on the path, too.” I don’t know. High cirrus. Vultures overhead. The silly (actually smart) chicken that flies over the fence in spite of having her wings clipped and forages out front. Then, I was ready for lunch and a rest before continuing lessons for GED.
So, that is it. Have I “learned all that I supposed to learn?” Doubt it, Mrs. Patterson. Walking under a beautiful lapis lazuli sky.