The Labyrinth

I’m one of those who likes to face my difficulties head on, face first.  I do things that some people think are horrific, unthinkable, and audacious in order to deal with and heal from the things that weigh me down.  I’m one of those who will lie down on my grandparents’ grave when I miss them, I will pull out painful pictures rather than avoid them, and so forth.  So today, on the day I had planned my wedding, of course I went down to the gazebo where we’d planned to marry, at the time of the ceremony. 

On the way down, I listened to a CD I made for Bob a month after we met.  Pink’s Glitter in the Air finally brought me tears and I let myself sob while the sun shone through my sunroof and the wind blew through my hair.  I passed so many people in cars or on the street, and it reminded of my pregnancy when I’d want to scream to whomever was next to me in traffic, “I might look like just another driver but I’m pregnant!  Can you believe it?”.  Although this time I wanted to tell them that today was the day I was planning to get married, except now here I was in khaki Capri pants, flip flops, and a brown Harley Davidson racerback tank top. 

I got down to the arboretum and started to take pictures.  I was surprised to see some people in “my” gazebo grilling hot dogs and having a little picnic.  They looked at me as I wandered around snapping pictures, and I was reminded of how little we know about the strangers we pass in our daily lives and what burdens we are carrying (like the teller at the bank who was complaining about the wedding he had to go to today, as I smiled and listened).  It became quickly apparent to me that my plan of sitting in the gazebo and reflecting on my life was not going to happen, so I crossed the street to the more familiar part of the arboretum, where I’d attended many of my Dad’s work picnics as a child.  I’d even tailgated there for OSU games.

I saw The Labyrinth Garden again, and remembered how my Dad had said people would gather there and try to walk the Labyrinth maze….many concentric circles with paths – some of which led to dead ends and some of which led to the center of the maze.  “What the hell?” I thought, “I’ve got nothing better to do” and so I started into the circle to see how tough this could possibly be.  Of course I would always look ahead to see if the path I was on was going to dead end, and if so, I’d turn the other way.  After trying what I felt was every possible turn, I concluded that there was no way to the center.  This pissed me off.  Then I noticed there was a short, direct path leading from the outside of the Labyrinth straight to the center.  Even a baby could see it was a sure thing.  But I didn’t want to take that path.  It didn’t seem like it would be any fun.  No challenge there.  Slowly I began to realize how metaphorical this Labyrinth was.  But then again, I was growing frustrated and wanted to conquer this silly little maze. 

So I decided to outwit the Labyrinth and start from the center and find the path that led to the outside.  After all, I have a master’s degree for chrissake.  Yes, it occurred to me that this is cheating and that we cannot do this in life (start at our destination and backtrack through our journey).  I moved quickly along, hit a couple dead ends, and then realized I was still stuck, unable to find my way out.  At this point, I decided this cute little exercise was over for me, and I decided to leave.  But not without a lot on my mind. 

There are so, so many times in life I think I am on the right path, doing the smart thing, making progress….only to find that I’ve reached a dead end.  Then it is time to back track a bit, regroup, and try again.  That’s assuming you want to make it to the center, the prize, the destination, the end goal.  I couldn’t figure that Labyrinth out today, and perhaps I never will (without taking the easy, obvious path).  But I bet I go back and try again.