I was talking with my fellow Triple Spiral Labyrinth enthusiast, who said that each time she walks into her labyrinth she walks in with an intention or a question.

I don’t always do that. This afternoon, I stopped at the heart shape rock at the entrance and thought, “What is my purpose?” No half measures for me, no asking simple, small questions, I want the big ones! As I walk I hear, “just listen.”

Okay, so I listen and I notice. I notice the contrast of the beautiful water droplets sparkling in the bits of sun as it finds its way down through the clouds and the trees. So beautiful. I think, “it’s all about the contrast.” That’s something from my quilting world. One of the things that makes a great quilt is the use of contrasting colors. This starts me thinking about polarities and the value in those, and paradox, where two completely, seemingly opposites can be true at the same time.

And then my mind drifts to more mundane things until I get to the center of the spiral. What I call the unknown. I stand there looking at a space just off to my left where there’s a beautiful, cleared out area where something wants to happen, or where I want something to happen and then I laugh and think, “It just needs a floor!” We can put up tents or chairs and tables or any number of things. . . And then I think, “What is my purpose?”

What I hear is “Not Yet.” Is that the universe? My tree talking to me? Or is that some smaller part of me who’s not ready yet? Truthfully, it doesn’t really matter. Because if it is Spirit or The Universe, then the answer is Not Yet. And if it’s some smaller part of me, the answer is still Not Yet. So I will look to those smaller parts who might not be ready and listen to them and stay as in the moment as I can, so that I am open to whatever wants to happen next.

I’m getting lots of practice with this labyrinth. It calls to me. I walk it when it calls. This feels like practice, practice in listening, practice in following impulses (yesterday’s walk turned out to be in the rain!), practicing in being in the moment. Each time I enter the labyrinth space, I enter the Now. So if I’ve forgotten, I have a reference point, and if I’ve not forgotten, it’s a reinforcing point.

I’m spending more and more time each day in the Now, in the Present moment.

Of course, singing the Brahms Requiem also helps with this. Music in general is a great place for me to get “in the now.” And this particular piece of music feels like it has a hold on me in the same way that the labyrinth does. I feel like it’s got me by the scruff of the neck. Not in a you’re in trouble kind of way, but rather in a mama cat has the kitten by the scruff of the neck and is moving her to a safe place kind of way.