As I was walking the labyrinth this afternoon, I got the “hit” that the labyrinth speaks to me in metaphor. Or I hear it through metaphor. I learn through metaphor.
For example, I went on a retreat last weekend. Mark and I have been part of Grace Caitlin‘s Transformation/Immersion program. It is personal-growth-work on steroids. Lots of learnings, all the time. There are thirteen of us in this program and I learn so much from my interactions with each and every one in the program.
Anyway, the group has been meeting since September, and we had a three-day retreat. Lots of fabulous things happened at the retreat, but that’s not what I want to talk about. I want to speak to our leaving. One of the things that Grace said before we all left was that she’s found it extremely useful to “call back” her energy when she leaves a place. She said that when you do that, you don’t leave things behind. And that had been my experience with that particular ritual.
This time, we called back our energy as a group. And then we all went hustle-bustle gathering our things up and setting the place to rights again.
I felt secure in the knowledge that I had gathered up all of my belongings and my energy and headed out feeling sated and glowing.
The next morning, as I was contemplating the gathering I realized that I had, after all, left two things.
Here’s where the metaphor language comes in.
I left behind the lid to one of my soup jars. And the bottle of dishwashing soap that I had brought for the group to use (because I’m very picky about scents and I knew that I would want to have my own soap there.)
So the lid I came to see represented the lid that I’ve been keeping on my outrageous self. I no longer need to keep a lid on the outrageousness that is me!
And the soap metaphor comes from not needing to worry about the messes that I make. Knowing that there is a cleanliness that comes from being messy and authentic and in integrity. I don’t need special soap to clean up my messes anymore.
Hmmmm, this is interesting, because in my head these metaphors make so much sense, and writing them down here, I don’t seem to have quite gotten the flavor of them. Interesting.
I still know what they mean to me, but I don’t know that that knowledge translates. Interesting. I’m also getting that it doesn’t matter if it doesn’t translate. I need to know for me, but not for anyone else.