The Labyrinth Spoke - Choosing the Path of My Heart's Desire

Every morning I write a piece based on the readings from the Episcopal lectionary. It gets posted on my other Substack - On the Way. This morning’s entry (written yesterday and posted after whatever that was that happened on Substack yesterday) tells the story of how we got to What’s Next. So—cross-posting here:

      Show me your ways, O Lord,
           and teach me your paths.
      Lead me in your truth and teach me.
      Psalm 25:3-4

The day’s readings

I was in Glendalough in County Wicklow. Helen had gone off to explore the old mining site, searching for ghosts of her ancestors. I was taking a break at the hotel.

To the east of the monastery site with its gravestones and remains of stone structures is a wide expanse of grass. The young people in one of the many school tours were taking a break from their walking lectures. They were playing football. Off to one side of the impromptu pitch was a labyrinth. That was my destination for the day.

Irish labyrinths differ from the Chartes-based design that is familiar to people from the U.S. It seemed a good opportunity to take my Irish question to an Irish labyrinth.

The pattern was mown into the grass, more weather-worn that day than in this photo. Nature had its own design. When I got to the center, or near the center, things got vague. Had I reached the center? There were two ways I could go. I stood there, wondering if I had reached the spot where I expected some enlightenment. It was just too vague.

Finally I had to choose. There were two ways to go. If I was to move forward, I had to choose.

That’s when the labyrinth itself gave me my answer. I get to choose.

Another verse from Psalm 25:

All the paths of the Lord are love and faithfulness 
     to those who keep his covenant and his testimonies. 
Psalm 25:9

I need not worry about the One Right Choice. There are a variety of paths. Am I following a way of love and faithfulness? Then I get to choose. I can even choose what I want. Don’t forget to consider what I want, if the choice is made in love and faithfulness.

So seven years later, in another pilgrimage spot where I lingered while Helen went off pursuing her own bliss, I knelt at a side altar in St. Patrick’s Cathedral. And I had my answer.

I want this. I want this.

And we moved forward, in love and faithfulness.