If you think you can’t get anywhere going in circles, you haven’t walked a labyrinth. Wisdom House Retreat and Conference Center in Litchfield claims to have opened Connecticut’s first outdoor labyrinth in 1997. Now there are tens of them scattered throughout the state at churches and retreat centers of all stripes, schools, hostelries, farms, art galleries, and even in suburban backyards.
Modern labyrinths are circular mazes with a clear single path leading to the center and back that involves turning in several circuits without being difficult or perplexing. Labyrinths have been used by many cultures for over 4,000 years, but achieved their acme in medieval times when built into Cathedral floors, like Chartres, as allegorical routes to God and symbolic pilgrimages to the
While there is no single correct approach to a labyrinth, they are most effectively walked slowly, in silence, with mindful breathing in an attempt to clear oneself of distractions. The way in is a means to open the heart, the center a place of deep thought, prayer and meditation, the way out a process of joining the transcendent.
Connecticut labyrinths can be found on interior floors, like the one at Hartford’s Asylum Hill Congregational Church, or in portable forms imprinted on canvas or other materials so they can be taken from place to place. However, I find those outdoors to be most potent and moving for their proximity to creation and connection to the vagaries of weather, the smell of soil, sound of birdsong and wind sough, and other natural phenomena. Situated on a low
Each labyrinth has distinct characteristics. The one behind the parish house of St. James Episcopal Church in Higganum is surrounded by woods. Outlined with informally placed native stones found nearby, the path is composed of moist ground and spongy moss. When I was there this spring, Canada mayflower, Solomon’s seal and other wildflowers were blooming along the way. Natural obstacles like rocks and tree roots required careful steps, putting me in more intimate contact with the lay of the land. By contrast, the labyrinth at Someday Farm in Killingworth is in an open field near a beaver pond and paved in grass so soft it feels like walking on air.
Even labyrinths of man-made materials can draw a person to peaceful silence. Behind St. Mark’s Catholic Church in Westbrook, contrasting paver colors define the paths and create an entrancing
Set in the woods, paved in stone-dust that crunches underfoot and outlined with cobblestones, the labyrinth at Holy Family Retreat in West Hartford has paths wide enough for my wife Mary and I to walk hand-in-hand, providing an unusual tandem spiritual experience. At center is a large, circular fieldstone sculpture, like a ring on edge, a symbol of eternity acting as a lens enabling us to focus our thoughts.
Though labyrinths were once seen as paths to religious enlightenment, their increasing popularity is probably not due to a sudden revival of traditional faith. Rather, it’s indicative of an increasing need for quiet reflection in an ever noisy and linear society. They are first aid stations for stress, places where walking around takes one full circle.
From the Hartford Courant, July 10, 2014
