image from Di the Huntress
Callie's preschool is housed in the basement of the church, and in the church's garden is a stone labyrinth. Every day as we walk to school, we pass by this labyrinth -- it's hard to miss, as it's about 30 feet across! And every day, Callie asks if we can "do the maze."
And every morning, I say "No."
It's not that I don't want to "do the maze." It's not even that we're that rushed. It's simply that I've always wanted to walk the labyrinth, and I've always wanted it to be life-changing, special, transformative. And how could that possibly happen with a chatty five-year-old at my side?
But today, when Callie said, "Mama, can we do the maze?" I said no. Then I said yes.
I don't know what shifted, or why. But out of the blue I realized that I can keep saying "No" forever, in search of the perfect, the ideal, the fairy tale. Or I can say "Yes" and grab and enjoy what's right in front of me, right now.
So we started out. "Follow the white," I told her, and she walked behind me, chanting. "Follow the white! Follow the white! Follow the white!"
The labyrinth is supposed to be an exercise in mindfulness, so I decided to tune in to what was happening right now, to the little traveler behind me, the sun shining down for the first time in what seems like months, the roughness of the stones. I especially tuned in to what she was saying. "Oh, we're getting close!" she said as we took a turn to the center. "Oh, no we aren't," she said in the same happy voice as we moved back toward the edge. "Follow the white! Follow the white!"
The labyrinth is a metaphor for life, for personal development, for seeking truth. It twists and turns and as you get closer, paradoxically, you're getting farther away, until at the last turn when you think you're headed right back to the beginning again, suddenly you're there. You're in the middle, and you can do a little bum-wiggling dance because you've made it.
Today, by being mindful and saying "Yes," I got the gift of seeing this journey through my daughter's eyes. Was it the candlelit, meditative, slow walk that I had dreamed of? No, most certainly not. Was it a more accurate view of what my personal journey is like? Oh yeah, for sure. Because my days are not filled with solitude and peace -- my days are chaotic and crumpled at the edges with cracker crumbs and smudges from tiny, dirty hands. That's where I am, right now. And by saying "Yes" to taking that walk today, I said "Yes" to my life, just as it is -- not as I think it should be.
Note: This is part of the Moms' 30-Minute Blog Post challenge!