Labyrinth Journal: Fall 2006: Page Two


	Fall 2006

Sole to Soul as Medicine
by Kay Sandor

"Walking the labyrinth is working directly with the spirit."

pproximately five years ago, a beautiful outdoor labyrinth was built on Galveston Island near the university at which I work. Shortly after my first walk, I felt called to incorporate the labyrinth walk into my teaching and practice. I read Dr. Lauren Artress' book and learned about her work to reintroduce labyrinths to the world. I found that she was educating those who wanted to work with the labyrinth, and I trained with her to become a labyrinth facilitator. I have been able to use the labyrinth in my personal spiritual practice to facilitate walks for others and to introduce the labyrinth to healthcare students and practitioners for self-care and for use in their practice. I also facilitate a walk for nursing graduate students as an introduction to the spiritual at the beginning of their research elective in evidenced-based complementary and alternative modalities. I find that walking the labyrinth is working directly with the spirit, and it has become part of my spiritual practice. Being a labyrinth facilitator is part of my spiritual work.

photo of a labyrinth adjoining a building

Sole to Soul in a Hospital Setting
Photo: © Cindy A. Pavlinac, sacred-land-photography.com

The continuous sights and sounds of the water, the wind, and the constellations are a part of the pattern of my daily life on the island. I honor the patterns in my external life by facilitating walks on the full moon and during the seasonal changes of equinox and solstice. On one of my first full-moon walks, two elderly sisters expressed fear that they would lose their way because their night vision was diminished. The light of the full moon and the large sanctuary candles around the perimeter of the labyrinth were not helpful. They were relieved when they learned there was no right or wrong way to walk the labyrinth, and they found they could indeed find their way in the darkness. They continue to attend my evening walks, and they continue to express their fears, but they keep coming back to walk the labyrinth in their own unique way. I have transformed their expressions of fear about walking into the darkness as a metaphor for aging. Their courage inspires me.

The labyrinth walk can also be used to process grief. Once, while I was planning a walk for some adolescents, their teacher explained that many of the students were still grieving the loss of a peer who had died in a car accident a few months ago. Although I did not mention the loss of their peer directly when I presented the labyrinth, I did inform the students that the labyrinth could be used to as a meditative tool to process grief and loss. In discussing the walk with the students after the walk, one student said the walk represented life's journey to him. He said, "We begin our journey in life like the walk to the center. We reach the center and live our lives. Then we walk out and die." Then he quickly added, "But I'm too young to die." I knew he was processing the agonizing loss of his friend, who had died before she reached her center.

The Art of Pilgrimage
An excerpt from Phil Cousineau's book

"That which you are looking for may be calling you to seek. Seek patiently and you will find."

—traditional advice of the Muses

he following is an excerpt from The Art of Pilgrimage, The Seekers Guide to Making Travel Sacred by Phil Cousineau. It reminds us why we walk and facilitate labyrinth walks for others. There are sections that refer to Lauren's work with labyrinths, so if you haven't read this book yet, we heartily recommend it to you.

Reading old travel books or novels set in faraway places, spinning globes, unfolding maps, playing world music, eating in ethnic restaurants, meeting friends in cafes whose walls hold the soul-talk of decades- all these things are part of never-ending travel practice, not unlike doing scales on a piano, shooting free throws, or meditating. They are exercises that help lure the longing out of the soul and honor the brooding-over of unhatched ideas for journeys.

But the oldest practice is still the best. Take you soul for a stroll. Long walks, short walks, morning walks, evening walks- whatever form or length it takes. Walking is the best way to get out of your head. Recall the invocation of the philosopher, Soren Kierkegaard, who said, "Above all, do not lose your desire to walk: Every day I walk myself into a state of well-being and walk away from every illness; I have walked myself into my best thoughts." As if in his footsteps, Friedrich Nietzsche also remarked, "Never trust a thought that didn't come by walking."

The Art Of Pilgrimage by Phil Cosineau. ISBN 1-56731-351-5 Published in 1998 by MJF Books. Our quote comes from page 25.