I’ve always been drawn to labyrinths. Some of my life’s most significant moments of discernment happened in labyrinths. If you’re not familiar, their winding paths serve as a metaphor for life or one’s spiritual journey. Moving along their path towards the center, you encounter unexpected twists and turns, moving you closer to and then away from the center. Like a labyrinth, sometimes life sends you on an apparent detour, but you keep moving forward towards the center. At times along the journey you may feel lost, but you persist and ultimately reach the center.
The twists and turns of grief are like this, but also different. Grief feels more like a maze: disorienting, confusing, and frustrating. When you least expect it, you hit a wall: for me today’s wall was a flood of tears that came out of nowhere, for no particular reason. Sadness, loneliness, and fatigue constantly loom in the shadows. Another wave can easily overwhelm your broken spirit at any given moment.
Keep going. Keep breathing. Pray. Pray lots. Sweet memories of your person bring some consolation, turning you around from those maze dead ends as you re-orient yourself to your new reality. This is just a detour, you tell yourself. Trust the path, wherever it leads, however long it takes. Peace.
Photo of 3-D printed labyrinth I received from my son for Mother’s Day this year. He gets me.