Jennifer Goes to Places and Does Stuff
Jennifer Levin walks a few good labyrinths
My mind is not a quiet place. Despite my best attempts at meditation, sitting still just makes my thoughts swirl with increased frenzy. Author Lauren Artress, a reverend and honorary canon of Grace Cathedral in San Francisco, said that many people have this reaction to seated meditation. Artress, who gave a talk in May hosted by Santa Fe’s Labyrinth Resource Group (LRG), is a leader in the labyrinth movement, which emphasizes using the spiral pattern of labyrinths for walking meditation, which is an activity that allows the mind to wander naturally with the body. She has created labyrinths all over the world, often basing them on the one set into the f loor at Chartres Cathedral in France, which dates to the 12th century.
You can find labyrinths in Santa Fe parks, on church grounds, in schools, and elsewhere, most of them created and cared for by the LRG. I have stood at their openings over the years, never sure how to navigate them. It turns out that my confusion stemmed from equating labyrinths with mazes. Though the terms are often used interchangeably — and were sometimes considered similar in Greek mythology — the modern labyrinth movement emphasizes that mazes are designed to confuse the walker, with twists and turns that get you lost, while labyrinths are designed to bring clarity to the mind. You can embrace your thoughts or let them go. You can pray, chant, sing, or be silent. Everything that arises during the walk can be interpreted as a metaphor to consider or learn from. Another misconception that some people have about labyrinths, Artress said, is that they are a New Age invention when, in fact, the sacred geometry they embody is found across cultures and throughout antiquity.
I walked my first labyrinth after Artress’ lecture at Milner Plaza, on Museum Hill between the Museum of Indian Arts and Culture and the Museum of International Folk Art. The pink and grayish-green brick labyrinth, set apart from the general fray by a low adobe wall, is modeled on the Chartres labyrinth. Musicians played quietly enough that the sound became part of the breeze. I had begun the day with a headache, but against all reason, as I navigated the lanes, my pain receded in the afternoon sunshine. The rhythm of several dozen walkers created an undeniable energy, spiraling me toward and away from the center. I tried to focus on staying present. Among my observations was the realization that I could take the corners and turns more slowly, really walking in the space of the path rather than quickly rounding to what was ahead. I was slightly anxious on my way to the center, but felt both psychologically and physically looser on my way out. Though I wanted to ask others about their experiences, their dazed expressions as they exited the labyrinth told me questions would be an intrusion.
I spoke with Lawrence Gallegos, a Santa Fe resident who is on the board of Our Lady of Guadalupe Church in Conejos, Colorado — known as the oldest church in the state — where they are planning construction of a labyrinth about four times the size of the one at Milner Plaza. It will feature the sacred mysteries of the rosary and the Stations of the Cross. Gallegos sees the walking meditation they offer as similar to the annual pilgrimages that Catholics in Northern New Mexico make to El Santuario de Chimayó during Holy Week. “I think the rosary has always been a prayer of contemplation,” he said. “I think we are all children of God. The rosary is part of the Catholic church, but our labyrinth will be open to everybody.”
I went to the labyrinth at Frenchy’s Field on Agua Fría Street one Saturday at dusk. This labyrinth is made of dirt, the path designated by raised mounds. A man clearing some stray twigs and rocks told me he was getting married there the next day and invited me back to take pictures.
Jerry Bartley and his fiancée, Lisa Kadel, walked their first labyrinth together at Ghost Ranch in Abiquiú, and he proposed to her on the night of the solar eclipse in 2017, when they were camping in White Sands. The wedding ceremony took place during a cold rainstorm — which might be considered bad luck elsewhere, but in drought-stricken Santa Fe, such weather was welcomed with good cheer. The groom wore a plaid tuxedo jacket and the bride wore Doc Martens with her gown. The ceremony included prayers from multiple religious traditions as well as a singalong to the song “Morning Has Broken.”
Perhaps attending the wedding of kind strangers there gave me special affection for the Frenchy’s Field labyrinth, but it has quickly become this neophyte’s favorite in town. I appreciate how you can see others’ footsteps in the dirt, and how the labyrinth itself reminds of me of the grooves on a vinyl record. The park is located in a residential neighborhood, and the labyrinth is one piece of a recreation area that includes a running track, a playground, and a river path. Even in the midst of all that, the labyrinth feels separate and sacred.
It struck me as ironic that I did not have a similarly lovely walk at the beautiful labyrinth on the grounds of the Cathedral Basilica of St. Francis of Assisi downtown. I went one Tuesday afternoon in early June — without anticipating the number of tourists that would be there. This labyrinth, a replica of the one at Chartres, is not located in its own meditative space but is part of the general area through which people walk on their way into and out of the church. My time there was interrupted by a group of preppy teenagers running the quadrants, cheering and high-fiving each other whenever their paths crossed. I became cranky and soon left with a headache. When I relayed this experience to Jane Westbrook, a labyrinth facilitator from Albuquerque who I met at Artress’ talk, she told me it sounded like the kids were celebrating. I couldn’t agree; I was still annoyed. I thought they should have been quieter, given that they were in a churchyard. I said I thought tourists in general could sometimes stand to be more respectful or at least cognizant of their surroundings.
It’s been a few weeks since then and I’m still thinking about those kids, because there are always going to be things I can’t resolve. I have no way of knowing what kind of energy they needed to release. Maybe they were celebrating something important. For all I know, they’d recently survived a school shooting. I don’t even know for sure that they were tourists. The labyrinth is theirs as much as it is anyone’s. “Your walk put you face-to-face with what’s going on in the world,” Westbrook said. “How do we find our own center in the midst of chaos?”
The Labyrinth Resource Group is holding another labyrinth walk at Milner Plaza on Sunday, June 24, in celebration of the summer solstice. The plan for the event is to use the strength of the sun to clear obstacles and create clarity, forgiveness, and abundance — although, really, what you think about when you walk is up to you, and individual results may vary. It could rain that day, for instance, which would require coming up with a whole new set of metaphors.
The Labyrinth Resource Group holds a summer solstice labyrinth walk at 1 p.m. Sunday, June 24, on Museum Hill’s Milner Plaza (706 Camino Lejo). Admission is free. For more information, visit labyrinthresourcegroup.org.
Though the terms are often used interchangeably, the modern labyrinth movement emphasizes that mazes are designed to confuse the walker, with twists and turns that get you lost, while labyrinths are designed to bring clarity to the mind.