as you read, I invite you to notice where you are in your life in this story. do you see yourself here?

sometimes clarity arrives after we fall on our face in the grass. this is a story about the day the labyrinth helped me ask the only question that mattered: what am I doing?

once, during a difficult season, I hired someone to help me navigate a crossroads in my life, and what unfolded wasn’t feeling good. simply, I was doing all the things I was ‘supposed to’ with everything I had, and instead of helping, it was feeling awful. after an interaction with this person one day that left my whiskers seriously wrinkled, I took the whole kit and kaboodle into the labyrinth, seeking clarity. what was happening?

the labyrinth I chose is a long-time friend, and it lives up a very steep hill that requires some ‘hoofing it’ to arrive. on this particular visit, I made the long drive there with my beloved, and I’ll be the first to admit I was wearing my finest, sparkliest ‘grumpy tiara.’ (laughter) my beloved is a truly wonderful man, and we made a game of my crappy mood, finally laughing together at the silly grandeur of complaint and the humanness of it all as we huffed and puffed with rosy cheeks up the hill.

we arrived breathless, and ready.

after asking every endless question about this situation I could think of for months on end, I offered the situation to the labyrinth in quiet desperation, asking: ‘what is my skillful question?’ there on the wide open rolling hills in the last light of the setting sun, the labyrinth opened itself.

now, a labyrinth is a sacred place for me – I’ve walked labyrinths in the triple digits, over the years. there is a special magic and flow that happens – emotions arise, intuition visits, big magic works on me, answers arrive. it’s the mystery, opening its arms.

this hilltop labyrinth is made from rocks placed on dirt, and it’s been there for at least the 20+ years I’ve been visiting. sometimes, folks kick rocks thither and yon, and then other folks repair the rupture. on my first circuit, I saw that the labyrinth had been busted open, and noted the opening.

somewhere around there a fierce longing for the feeling of childhood rose up in me. my childhood itself had its complexities, but it also held wonder, play, and delight. in that moment I found myself longing for that simple freedom the way a thirsty person longs for water.

I kept walking.

on the second circuit, I came to the opening again. I found myself thinking, ‘if I was a little girl, I’d hop right out! I don’t want to walk this path anymore!’ and – having never until that day stepped out of the power and flow of the sacred labyrinth – I stepped out and off the well-worn path. the green grass was lush and verdant beyond the labyrinth, and the next thought that came was, ‘I wish I could do a cartwheel….’

mind you, I have no idea what decade I last did a cartwheel in. it’s been several. but there, on that hilltop drenched in the drops of sunshine of the day, I knew that a cartwheel was coming. in my head, it was a triumphant thing, an act of power, grace, and freedom…

so I cartwheeled.

and, friends, graceful and powerful it was not. (I fell right on my face.) I immediately felt embarrassed. clunky. old. adultish. it didn’t feel good.

this irked me, so I tried again. ‘dammit,’ I thought, ‘I can do this!’ so, I cartwheeled. or tried to. I fell again, pretty badly, and hurt myself a good bit. it was clear that this was not going to be the triumph my ego was so hungry for. even more irritated, I thought, ‘well, if I can’t do a cartwheel, I can at least do a somersault!’ so I did. same clumsy result – my chin bonked really hard onto my chest, I got a grass stain on my beloved sweater, and felt foolish and ungainly and not at all how I wanted to feel.

at this point, I was feeling a way – here I was, hoping for a liberating and insightful moment during a complicated life passage, and it was Not Going How I Wanted It To. I thought, ‘okay, if I can’t do a cartwheel, and I can’t do a somersault, I bet I can at least lay on the earth!’ so I did. I pulled that one off – I stretched my arms and legs out, with my tummy to the sky.

and the tears came.

there had been violent weeping in the weeks leading up to this, as relating with this person I hired felt more and more misaligned, and this was not that wave of anguish, thank the gods. this felt like something long-stuck finally releasing – old sorrow and frustration pouring out of a place in me that had needed tending. the tears came and came, and I gave myself to them fully. the earth and the labyrinth did their work on me, and it was big.

finally done crying, I sat in the peace that comes after a good, strong weep. I felt clear, calmed. I opened my puffy little eyes and looked into the vast blue wonder above me. I sat up, there in the last light of the sun, watching the wind ripple through the fecund green grass like love. in that moment, I finally found it, my skillful question:

“what am I doing?”

the realization landed all at once: I had been trying to fit my life into something that simply wasn’t mine.

not just the person I was working with – who was the initiation I seemingly needed to crack me open and bring me back home to myself – but what my life had become after a long set of challenges, sensitivity, evolutionary times, and a spirit insistently asking to leave what felt misaligned behind, step out of the opening in the path and get back to being free.

I looked left. far, far across the rolling hills, I saw the city. I’d lived there, ran a business there, and that life is a memory now. crouching on the land, it was wreathed in smog with sunset glinting off glass windows like angry eyes, concrete limned in more concrete. I looked right. far, far across the rolling hills, I saw…green hills of emerald grass. open space. nature. goodness. freedom. the web of life in its simplicity and splendor.

“this is not for me, and something big and wide and wonderful is calling instead.”

I don’t know if I can properly articulate the impact of that powerful ‘aha!’ moment – how meaningful it was that clarity finally came after hopping off the familiar path, being humbled by my own stuck-ness, giving myself to pent-up emotions, or the exquisite clarity of ‘what am I doing?’ pealing like a bell in my heart, followed by ‘this is not for me, and something big and wide and wonderful is calling instead.’ it was powerful for me. I give thanks.

I ended that relationship the following day, and gave myself over to the mystery and the void. I spent a long time there, sending up prayers for guidance, letting the wild loving divine lead, and allowing a new life that was waiting for me to arrive. it did, and it was all worth it. a happy ending…and it took this big moment of ‘aha!’ in the labyrinth to get me there.

are you in this story?

does something you dedicated your whole heart to not quite fit? are feelings coming up? are you seeking support? following a familiar path? yearning to step away from how things are ‘supposed’ to go? stepping outside of the labyrinth? falling on your face in a failed cartwheel of childhood? weeping belly to the sky? looking at what was and feeling just so done, or looking at the open spaces and feeling called home? finally jettisoning the thing that didn’t fit? surrendering to the total unknown?

are you in this story?

if this story echoes something in your own life, you’re welcome to send a note and share.

if it feels aligned, we can explore how healing work, the mystery, and your own quiet dreams might want to unfold next.

also. if the mystery of the labyrinth calls to you, you can find a labyrinth in your area with the worldwide labyrinth locator.

love,
anna

ps – if you enjoy these writings and would like to receive new ones when they appear, you’re warmly invited to join the dreaming otter email list, at the bottom of this page.