Thundersley is Labyrinthed!

For one brief, shining moment, Thundersley had the newest labyrinth on the planet. I have no illusions that it is still the newest; I’m sure that within the hour an even newer one had  been created somewhere,  by someone… such is the way these things happen. We know from seeing what crosses our desks here at Labyrinthos HQ that new labyrinths are appearing at an unprecedented rate. But this little Glen Labyrinth is our baby, and we’re excited to be introducing it to the world!  

Our friend, Els, is visiting from the Netherlands for several days, and she is as passionate about labyrinth adventures as we are. She is also a weather angel, bringing us the most marvelous weather when she travels with us…. so we decided to take advantage of the beautiful and mild afternoon, and headed for the woods. Literally. Today we wanted to give something back in return for the hours of happy walks the Glen has given us… a wee labyrinth tucked into the trees at the edge of a small rise. We chose our site, then started the task of gathering the wood that would make the walls of our little labyrinth.

And it wasn’t long before our labyrinth began to take shape…

And at the very center, we tucked a tiny little stone, shaped like a woman, to invoke blessings and peace on those who will walk these paths…

We then blessed our labyrinth with the Loving Kindness prayer:

May this labyrinth and all who walk these paths be blessed with loving kindness…  May they be well… May they be peaceful and at ease…  May they be happy!

Midnight Magic

I know…. I’m still going on about the snow. But we are having a rather amazing winter, and I guess if I am honest then I will have to admit that snow itself fascinates me. As a California girl, I was 17 years old and attending University before I saw my first snowfall, and the magic of that night still enchants me.

Rain was forecast for Thursday evening, so we settled in for a night of  telly (Jeff) and knitting (moi). Imagine our surprise when we went to lock up for the evening and saw this:

Over the years, I’ve learned that Jeff sometimes sees life best through the lens of his camera. He prefers photographing labyrinths to walking them, for instance, and I’ve seen firsthand how he interacts with the world through his camera…. the rest of us could have spent hours waiting to get a shot like this, but for Jeff the natural world seems to respond to his very presence. By the time his camera was set up and focused, the fox had appeared. Perhaps this is what happens when we accept who we are and consistently nurture the talents that are ours.

Irish Rambling, part 2

The rain continued to follow us as we drove further south to Cashel in County Tipperary where we headed immediately for the famous, dominating feature on the landscape:

Cashel Rock

Jeff was eager to get a close look at St Patrick’s cross which was reported to have a labyrinth-like carving on the base. Could it be? Fortunately, the cross is now indoors, but it is extremely weathered after centuries of exposure to the elements. Nevertheless, as we circled it in the protection of its new home, the circuits could be clearly seen, though the paths were indistinct and difficult to trace, or even to count. There was something very moving about being able to gently touch the ancient carving as we manipulated the lighting and shadows to get a closer look so that we could gather the clues to the details of this rendition of the labyrinth symbol. Now that we are home, Jeff is working with the photos so that he can make a conclusive report in due time.

We then began our search for the other carving that was of particular interest to me: a Sheela-na-Gig set into the outer wall of one of the buildings on the rock.

Cashel Rock Sheela-na-Gig

Sheela-na-gigs are curious stone carvings of naked females who are usually squatting or standing in such a way as to accentuate the vulva. Found on medieval churches, castles and other structures throughout Britain, but especially in Ireland, these enigmatic figures compel interest and stir the imagination. We happily go out of our way to seek them out; the Cashel Sheela was the first of three we found on this trip. For some reason, I was quite startled to see the strange sideways orientation of this one.

We spent the night at Hill House, looking out across the valley toward the Rock of Cashel, but left early the next morning to drive down to  the walled town of Fethard, where there are two Sheela-na-Gigs. One is set into the city wall:

Sheela-na-Gig on the Fethard City Wall

And the other is on the wall of the ancient Augustinian friary, very close to the  modern priest’s house:

Sheela-na-Gig on the Fethard Abbey

Driving back towards Belfast, we had one last labyrinth to explore, a small carving mounted on the wall of a ruined chapel… and it was here that I had my most memorable moment of the trip. It was cold, very cold, and we could see the chapel out in a field quite some distance from the road where we had parked our warm and comfy car. Contemplating the barbed wire fence we would have to scale and the muddy field we needed to cross, my heart sank. I agreed to the excursion only because I knew Jeff would do the same for me… Bundled in two jackets and several layers of hats each, we climbed into our boots and set out into the rain. Halfway across the field, I realized that it was that moment for which I have been working so very hard for so many months. My slimmer, stronger body absolutely rejoiced as we slogged forward, in total comfort and confidence! Rathmore Chapel was a joy… I read the tombstones outside, then explored the nooks and crannies within, feeling the poignancy of the structure that had served the spiritual needs of so many for so long. I felt connected to myself, to these long-gone faceless strangers, and to the divine thread that weaves between us all.

Jeff photographing the Rathmore Chapel Labyrinth

Irish Rambling

The River Boyne

We can tell you why Ireland is so green…. it rains. But somehow the dull skies and bitter winds contributed to the mystery and magic of the landscape. We had come in search of neolithic monuments and medieval carvings, and we were willing to leave the relative comfort of the beaten track to seek them out.

Our first stop was Newgrange, a popular pilgrimage destination that is all but deserted at this time of year. An architectural cousin to some of the sites we visit in Scotland, Newgrange was  built some 5000 years ago as a burial mound with a very precise solar alignment. Should you be fortunate enough to be standing in the chamber at sunrise on Winter Solstice, you would witness a shaft of light entering through a small window and lighting the chamber. Adding to its appeal, an elaborately carved stone stands guard at the entrance to the passage, and more spirals decorate the inner walls. Absolutely amazing… such an elegant reminder that despite our 21st century advantages, there are still mysteries left to explore and experience.

Newgrange Entrance Stone

From Newgrange, we drove south to the small community of Laragh where we were booked into a lovely B&B, the Tudor Lodge. Too tired to bother with going out to get dinner, we fell into bed so that we could get an early start in the morning. Despite the ongoing rain, we were the first arrivals of the day at the Glendalough Visitor’s Centre where a boulder with a Medieval carving of a labyrinth is now on display. The so-named Hollywood Stone may be the earliest example of the labyrinth symbol known in Ireland. It was discovered in a nearby field in 1908  by a group of men chasing a stoat… when they turned over the boulder, under which their quarry had hidden, they saw the labyrinth carving on the underside. Originally a marker stone for the start of the long winding pilgrims path through the rugged Wicklow Gap, it stood beside a branch of St. Kevin’s Road, an ancient pilgrim’s trackway that leads through the Wicklow Mountains from Hollywood to the famous monastery at Glendalough, founded by St. Kevin in the mid-6th century.

Hollywood Stone, Glendalough

Noting the vast but empty parking lots, we realized how fortunate we were to have the place to ourselves… while Jeff photographed, I let myself daydream my way back into history, imagining the people and the circumstances that might have drawn them to pilgrimage. Unfortunately, however, the steady rain discouraged us from exploring the entire Glendalough site with its magnificent Celtic crosses, carvings, churches, and famous round tower. Even the modern labyrinth in the field next to the visitor’s centre was too soggy to enter, though the standing water did make it quite picturesque!

Modern Labyrinth at Glendalough

From Glendalough we travelled up along the pilgrim route, stopping to see the field where the stone once stood… it is fairly unremarkable now, but it gave us pause to appreciate the many pilgrims who have passed by over the centuries, using this spot as a milestone on their spiritual journeys.

Passed by Pilgrims

to be continued….

Snowy Return

We’re home from Ireland…. and that in itself is the miracle. For those of you with access to the international news, you’ll have heard about the snowstorm that brought London to its knees yesterday. Apparently it was the worst snowstorm in 20 years, and the first time since the Blitz that London’s bus services were completely cancelled. Since the Blitz!!

We were supposed to have been laying out a labyrinth near Belfast during the day, flying back to London yesterday evening. Although the worst of the snow hadn’t yet come across the Irish sea, we quickly realized that it wasn’t a day for painting labyrinth lines onto frozen ground, so we headed to the airport immediately after breakfast, in hopes of catching any available flight out.

Twelve hours later, a single flight headed out for London, and Jeff managed to get us seats… I’ll never know how he so consistently manages to work his travel miracles, but I’ll hitch my wagon to his star anytime. The official word from the airport was to simply go away and come back again in a couple of day… but the persistent hung out for a daylong blur of chance encounters with fellow travellers, interviews with BBC reporters looking for stories about travelling woe, and endless cups of coffee. I knitted, of course, nearly completing the cabled Irish socks I had selected to accompany me on this journey.

Our Easy Jet captain, Chris Trevelyan,  came out into the cabin before takeoff to describe the travel chaos in the London airports. Warm and safe in the nearly flight-less Belfast International Airport, we had clearly escaped the worst. The flight was uneventful and even the drive home was easy, though eerie. The roads, even the motorways were absolutely deserted, a sight rarely seen. The only other vehicles out on the snowy landscape seemed to be the busy gritters.

Was the trip worth it? Absolutely… later this week I’ll post pictures of the labyrinths, megaliths, sheila-na-gigs and wintry Irish countryside.

Winter Pilgrimage

In the wee hours of the Friday morning, we’ll be leaving for Ireland on a journey that is part business, part pleasure, and part spiritual pilgrimage. For three days we’ll visit labyrinths and sacred sites that have been calling out to our pilgrim hearts. In some ways, I have to laugh at the ridiculousness of our timing. At the time of year when most of the British populace is dreaming of heading to warmer climes, we are trading our grey skies for the blustery winds and leaden skies of Ireland where we’ll undoubtedly shiver despite wearing our warmest woollies. But we don’t mind braving the January darkness and wintry weather if it means we have the space to wander and experience without being crowded by hordes of camera-clinking tourists.

One of my greatest joys is choosing and preparing the knitting project that will accompany me as we travel. I’m a knitterly pilgrim, so what I carry with me matters both practically and symbolically; I would no more dream of leaving home without my knitting than without a journal. And I don’t take just any knitting… I carefully listen to the quiet voice of my intuition as it whispers guidance for the trip ahead,then choose patterns, colours, and project that will support my journey. I don’t always knit much when I’m away, but I keep my knitting close at hand, always, using it as a touchstone and a companion.  By the time I return home, the familiarity of the yarn and my needles remind me instantly of my pre-trip dreams, the planning process, and the events of the journey itself. It may take months before I actually complete the knitting, but even that delay often speaks to the time that it takes me to fully integrate my experiences.

This week I’ll be travelling with a beautiful skein of hand-dyed blue-green wool that I received as a birthday present last year. Before we leave, I’ll cast 72 stitches onto a beautiful pair of wooden circular needles to start a cabled sock. Both the colour and the pattern seem as though they’ll fit with the Irish countryside through which we’ll be travelling. I wonder if sock-making appeals to me so deeply because of the importance of one’s feet when walking labyrinths?

Labyrinth Paths

Jeff and I live strange lives…. but life is never dull! Despite coughing and sneezing and wheezing with this year’s version of the Lurgie Virus, we’ve been  busier than usual with our labyrinth adventures. On Saturday, Jeff left me shivering with feverish chills while he made a flying trip to Copenhagen to retrieve the treasured photo archive of long-time friend and labyrinth colleague, Jurgen Thordrup (pictured below), who passed away last month. Jurgen’s family kindly offered his labyrinth photos to Jeff, and Saturday was the day for him to have access to the house before it was cleared. There is some exciting material amongst the masses of photos Jeff brought home, so I’ll give an update shortly, along with a more fitting tribute to a man who delighted in researching and documenting all things labyrinthine.

On Sunday, we were off to the small Oxfordshire town of Abingdon, to attend the dedication and blessing of the recently renovated St. Michael and All Angels’ Church. The name Abingdon will be familiar to those who have heard Jeff lecture on the history of the labyrinth in which he refers to a wonderful manuscript labyrinth created at the Abingdon Abbey in the early 11th century. A prayer to Mary, Assumpta est Maria ad Caelestia, Alleluia! (Mary is assumed into Heaven, Alleluia!) is written along the paths.

When  the church contacted The Labyrinth Builders last autumn, we were excited about the potential and possibilities, and it soon became obvious that this could be a highly symbolic and significant project

Taking its design from the medieval manuscript, the new labyrinth was laid into the floor of the church over the winter, using tile selected to match the original mid-19th century floor tiles… and the result is quite splendid:

Photo, taken soon after completion, courtesy of The Labyrinth Builders

The renovation has now been completed, with new, easily repositioned wooden chairs flanking the central aisle. Bishop Stephen Cottrell, the Bishop of Reading presided over a beautiful dedicatory sung Mass on Sunday evening, blessing and dedicating the church to the service of God and community. As always, it was a delight to be in attendance at such a symbolic and significant event…. and, as always, we found ourselves forging new friendships in the labyrinth community.

Welcome to my circle…

I often miss my family…. and whichever of my friends I’m not with at any particular moment…  Since I clearly live with my feet on two continents, that means I am always missing someone. And it also means that I have a pretty damned exciting life and have plenty of good in-the-moment experiences. I consider myself very lucky, and even the missing really just signals that my life is rich enough to let me love lots of people (and places). This blog is my attempt at staying in touch.

In all actuality, I am really making this into a Dear Family and Friends letter that is simply cloaked in modern technology. I loved my blog as it was, but found myself stymied and stagnated as I tried to restrict myself  to focused writing  for special interest audiences instead of being able to simply share my life with all its eclectic absurdities. In my real life, I can’t separate my knitting from my labyrinth work, my psychology from my cooking. Perhaps later, I will organize my writings into specialized blogs, but for now Ariadne’s Thread is taking the form of a letter from my heart to the people I love. I hope you will visit often and enjoy reading what I have to say!

I’ve always loved the When I am an old woman, I shall wear purple poem and admired those people who could embrace their own eccentricities as they got old enough to shake off the constraining perfectionism of professional stereotypes and social mores. So, welcome to my world of  labyrinths and love, of spiritual thoughts and mundane realities… walks in the countryside, special recipes, knitting updates, and snapshots of my life in England and our labyrinthine travels; in this blog, it’s all fair game!

Renewed!

I spent this past weekend visiting with good friends who have rented a flat in Paris for the month… France was celebrating Pentecost while we enjoyed the revivifying effects of special friendships. Our travel usually ties into work of some kind, lecturing or research, but this weekend away was purely and simply a much-needed holiday. We spent hours lingering over leisurely breakfasts and came home to simple suppers of fresh tomatoes,french bread, and cheese accompanied by good wine and deep conversation. During the days, we visited Paris landmarks and wandered comfortably through shops, cafes, churches, and cemeteries. My friend, Erwin, wrote this morning that Pentecost reminds us that “Spirit is blowing everywhere.” When I read his post this morning I thought about how well our weekend fit into the spirit of Pentecost.

And, of course, labyrinth enthusiasts that we are, we made a quick trip to Chartres on Friday, realizing late Thursday evening that the famous Chartres labyrinth was likely to be open and that this was a rare opportunity for us to make a mini-pilgrimage together. What a joy to be able to simply catch a train to take us to a place that looms so large in our hearts and imaginations!

I’ve been to Chartres enough times now to feel at home with the streets, the shops, the cafes — and the Cathedral. Inside, the splendid windows soothe my soul while the candles and statues welcome me home. Memories of past pilgrimages weave through the cool air as I revisit the stones and treasures I know and love so deeply… new memories in the making!

While the cathedral prepared to receive its Pentecost pilgrims, we arrived less officially, but in good company nevertheless.Within moments of disembarking from the train, we walked straight into a group of CSJ’s from Minnesota, including several good friends from my spiritual community there. Later in the day, other friends from far-off places drifted into the cathedral and we enjoyed that incredible sense of belonging to an international family where an unexpected rendezvous is always a heartwarming delight.

Another highlight of the trip was our Saturday evening pilgrimage to Montmartre. Despite having visited Paris numerous times in the past, I had never gone up to Montmartre, and really had no idea of what to expect. It being a holiday weekend, there was a party-like atmosphere on the crowded streets, and I loved the sense of easy comfort as we listened to music drifted into shops, and rode the funicular to the top of the famous steps.

Sacre Coeur was crowded, and I was somehow surprised that everyone who had gone up seemed to be making a visit to the church; it was such a party atmosphere out on the steps and streets that I wouldn’t have expected many people to take time to walk around the church. How wrong I was! Despite the crowds, I could feel Spirit blowing through — and in a moment of quiet inspiration, my own heart opened to answers I had been seeking. I left with a new sense of purpose and direction…

Women need to spend time with other women — unstructured time to allow hearts to open and stories to flow. Paris provided a wonderful backdrop and gave us unforgettable memories (as well as luscious cappuccinos and great wines), but it is friendship that heals the soul and renews one’s zest for life!

To share our memories, I have posted an online photo album here . Enjoy!

With Full Heart

Many of you who read this blog know my family, others do not. Some of you know that between us, Jeff and I have 4 grown children and 5 grandchildren, with two more on the way. Last Christmas, a family crisis in California changed us — in good ways — forever.

On December 7, our 7-year-old grandson, Aaron, was diagnosed with a massive brain tumor. I flew in from England immediately and spent the rest of the month with my family there while Aaron had brain surgery and began his recovery, first with 3 weeks in a pediatric intensive care unit (where we all spent Christmas) and then with another few weeks in a Children’s Hospital Rehabilitation unit. There he had to re-learn the basic skills of standing and walking. We saw and experienced things in those weeks that touched us deeply.

To make a long story short, Aaron far surpassed the our wildest hopes and insisted on returning to school almost as soon as he was released from the hospital in mid-January. By mid-March, he was discharged from physical therapy and we had “our” Aaron back, fully and completely, with only a few scars on his head, which he seems to think of as a badge of honor of some sort. In his words, “I had a brain tumor, but it’s gone now.” His most recent MRI was clear and he’s looking forward to a long and normal life….

….Except that in some ways the word normal could now read exceptional. I don’t think it is possible to go through what he did without growing up quickly in some remarkable ways. As a family, we were beautifully supported by family, friends, and community during that strange and stressful Christmas season. People gave and gave…. and gave. Now, less than 6 months after his diagnosis, Aaron has found a way to give back.

He has decided to fundraise for a local pediatric brain tumor foundation, the Sami Disharoon Foundation, who stepped in immediately when they realized that Aaron’s family needed financial help so that his parents could take the necessary time off work to be at his bedside. On May 10, Aaron, his sister Anna, and his mother, Kirsten, will be participating in Sonoma County’s Human Race to raise money to be used in helping other children’s families. His two little sisters, Abigail and Amelia, and his father, Greg, will be cheering from the sidelines.

Aaron has written a little webpage which I invite you to visit here. He has always loved money and is excited about this opportunity to raise funds to help others, checking his totals daily. Following the links, you’ll notice that Aaron has pledged high; this is an 8-year-old who has good reason to believe in miracles!

If I learned anything last December, it is that we live in a kind and generous community. Volunteering has always been part of my life, but never before had I been on the receiving end like this. As a grandmother, I am pleased and proud that Aaron is choosing to say thank you in such an open-hearted way. To see him walking is nothing short of a miracle; to see him walking for the benefit of others is sheer joy. My heart is full.

If you would like to support Aaron in his efforts to raise money for the Disharoon Foundation, please go his webpage or contact me for details on how to contribute to a fund that will be matched by Kirsten’s employer. And wherever you are when you read this, I invite you to think back on the miracles in your life and ask yourself how you might express your gratitude for those miracles.