labyrinth of life

I was recently at a meditation facilitator training retreat in Lithuania. I did a walking meditation through a labyrinth one day. I’ve only experienced this once before but it was an incredible experience so I knew good things would come from this time too. The path of this labyrinth was gravel and we had the option to wear shoes or to go barefoot. It was suggested to carry our shoes if we wanted to go barefoot in case we change our mind.

I made the conscious decision to go barefoot and to also not take my shoes with me. I set an intention to listen to what my heart wanted to teach me and I started walking. Three minutes in, I realized I hadn’t taken a single deep breath and my shoulders were in my ears! Not quite the relaxing exercise I expected from a walking meditation.

The gravel was painful to say the least. I quickly realized the soles of my feet are not as calloused as I thought. I felt every sharp edge with acuity. Even if one step was tolerable, the next would feel like broken glass and cause me to tense up or lose my balance. I realized I was attempting to speed up to get myself out of this situation.

When in reality, speeding up was making everything worse. For a moment, I paused, took a deep breath, relaxed all the tension in my body and softened. I told myself, go at your own pace, and I slowly began again. The pain was still present but all of a sudden, it was more tolerable.

A simple little mindset shift changed what I was physically feeling just enough to allow myself to continue. I knew that in fact, I was not walking on glass, and my feet would actually be okay even though it didn’t feel like it. I had chosen to experience this and I might as well accept the experience I was getting. Past Jenna would have told myself to toughen up but present Jenna knew that softening into a moment can often ease the tension better.

The thing about walking a labyrinth is that it mimics life in every way. There is a point in all of our lives, that we take our shoes off metaphorically. We crave to feel more so we remove the barrier we have between ourselves and the world. Perhaps we expect to feel the warm grass or soft sand under our feet but reality is, yes, we will feel those things but we will also experience sharp stones and gravel.

Life is going to be painful, of that I am certain. If we tense up and try to speed through it, sometimes it makes everything feel that much more intense. Choosing to slow down and soften, helped me get through. It helped to accept what I was experiencing instead of just suffering through the pain.

Half way through the labyrinth, our group paused in the middle to take a collective moment. We were encouraged to set an intention to carry with us for the second half as we walked our way out of the maze. Two words had continuously popped into my head during my walk; surrender and trust.

These two words are not new to me. The last few years of my life have been deep lessons in both. But as I was preparing to walk over this gravel path again, I needed reminders of both. A reminder that life will always give us exactly what we need. That I must trust the process, even when it is uncomfortable.

Because I took my shoes off and felt pain, I also experienced the joy of soft grass at the very end. As I was welcomed to the soft ground by a sweet hug, I felt a sense of relief and gratitude wash over me. If I had my shoes on, I wouldn’t have gotten this opportunity.

It’s the difficult paths that we walk in life that help us to notice the smooth ones. If we keep our shoes on all the time, creating a barrier between ourselves and the world around us, life may be less painful, but it’s also less joyful. Sometimes what protects us, also limits us.

There is a special kind of beauty in walking through the discomfort to find the ease. So take your shoes off, let your toes feel the earth beneath them. Allow yourself to be vulnerable to the world around you. There will be moments of doubt and uncertainty but also moments of beauty and joy. Just allow it all in.

**A few days after our initial walking meditation, I had the opportunity to return to the labyrinth and walk it again. I debated whether I should still go barefoot or if I should see what it was like with shoes on. I ended up going barefoot again, but carried my shoes with me this time. I was shocked by how much easier it was the second time. I know my feet were not any more calloused so it was either one of two things.

It is possible that because our entire group walked the labyrinth a few days before, the path was a bit smoother. How beautiful that by walking down a difficult path, you may be making the path more smooth for everyone that comes behind you. It is a reminder that sometimes our actions have ripple effects that we may not fully realize.

Or perhaps it felt easier because my brain and body knew what to expect. Because of this, I registered less pain. Our brains are a fascinating organ that does a lot of work behind the scenes to attempt to keep us safe. Novel experiences will often be perceived as a bit more dangerous so our brain will be on high alert. Because of this, we are more conscious of sensory input during new experiences. My brain knew what I was doing this second time and therefore was less stressed about potential danger. This led to a much easier walk for me.

Honestly, it is likely a combination of these two possibilities. But I love how capable our brain is of adapting and learning. I will never not be fascinated by how our brain creates every second of our reality. Life really is something special. I’m grateful that I kept my shoes off for the second walk. So I could continue to feel the earth beneath me and learn.