I am delighted to share another beautiful submission to the Monk in the World guest post series from the community. Read on for Anne Montgomery Schmid’s reflection Behold.
“Come and see,” she said to me. These were powerful words that called to me like a beacon from a lighthouse. I was sitting in Bible Study one morning, wearing grief like a heavy cloak, when this wise woman spoke these words of invitation to me. Noticing my weary posture, she suggested I walk the labyrinth. Not knowing what a labyrinth was, but trusting this soon to be beloved friend, I did indeed go and see. Never could I have predicted how the labyrinth would weave into my personal story nor the fascinating turn my life and faith journey would take.
When I walk a labyrinth, I feel just as I do when I walk alongside the ocean. My feet sink into creation and my body drops into its natural rhythm. As my body engages, my mind begins to rest. The labyrinth serves as a container that holds me as I carry my quietly creeping anxieties, petitions, and longings through the winding path and into the center. While in the center, well, that is my most sacred time. Sometimes I laugh or cry. Other times I talk with God or simply listen. Mostly, I breathe and accept the peace that waits for me. Slowing down does not come easily to me, so this set aside time and space to pray provides cherished nutrition for my soul.
My faith journey deepened as I sought out labyrinths when my family and I embarked on our quest to travel to all 50 states. As we explored and grew, our labyrinth search expanded internationally. On our ancestral pilgrimages to Scotland and Ireland, we found expected labyrinths and sometimes labyrinths would call to us unexpectedly. Yet the one on Iona eluded us. Instead, I had my hoped-for encounter with God while standing in a field of mud and muck. No matter the geography, the experience of discovering and walking a labyrinth amazes me as it encourages me to be still and know.
Studying labyrinths over the years has led me to wonderful discoveries. I love envisioning the ancient monks painstakingly crawling on the labyrinth during Lent and then dancing the same path as they rejoiced on Easter morning. And to think of fishermen on the Scandinavian coastal shores running through a labyrinth then straight to their boats so no ill will would follow them gives me pause.
In addition to my own labyrinth journeys, I enjoy offering the labyrinth to others as a contemplative practice. Traveling with three different labyrinths into diverse communities allows me to introduce this ancient spiritual practice in creative ways. I have been a witness to so many moments of connection that are truly too deep for words. Trusting and recognizing that I have received special gifts, I create safe space for walkers to explore questions and feelings. This nonjudgmental space allows for the possibility of a spiritual awareness that taps into that still, small voice that exists in the core of every person. One needs to feel protected to access that small whisper deep within. I am blessed to hold the vulnerable space surrounding the seeker.
Families entrust me with their tears of grief and concerns of letting go. Young children walk with me as we pretend to be stomping dinosaurs or soaring airplanes. Teenagers bring their stinky feet uneasiness and big questions of their future paths. Cancer patients move through the labyrinth with steady feet and realistic hope. Aging women walk with achy hips and hearts of gratitude. Beloved pets trot alongside their humans offering an additional layer of love and protection.
Yes, I am truly blessed to be a blessing and I do not take this lightly, but rather carry and offer the Light bestowed upon me with reverence and respect. With that said, I once found myself in a playful conversation with a spiritual companion about walking a labyrinth backwards. Realizing it was really wordplay, I accepted the challenge of approaching the labyrinth in reverse mode. Every walk is a new opportunity for fresh insights.
Whether dancing like a monk or walking a labyrinth prayerfully forwards or backwards, metaphors present along the path. On my reverse, dizzying walk, I was met with thoughts such as “I am not too old to try something new,” “View life from unexpected perspectives,” “I don’t need to see the path to trust the path,” and my favorite, “God needs a laugh, too.” But I think the biggest realization came from the wise words of my son videoing the moment and joining me on the journey, “Keep moving!”
Blessing as I Walk
Curiosity and willingness
hold hands
as I enter
the labyrinth.
Their trusted companions
of joy and sorrow
meet me
along the way.
Faith, Hope, and Love
escort me
on my journey
of exploration.
Abiding
in the labyrinth are
Presence and deep awareness.
Grace encircles.
Anne Montgomery Schmid is the founder of Encircled Grace and a Veriditas Certified Labyrinth Facilitator. Journeys from her home in suburban Philadelphia have taken her to labyrinths throughout the United States, Scotland, and Ireland. She loves to share her deep faith and gentle wit through writing, photography, and storytelling.
