Revisting a labyrinth, revisiting the stuff

It's spring time in Virginia

 

Flowering plants strain at the warmth,  branches spring into life.

It's almost time for Easter.

                        Lent reflections give me pause

Lenten Rose

Hyacinth emerge near warm rocks

I revist a local labyrinth to walk the pattern, to settle my soul, to hear from God.  Soak in the peace.

My childhood on the farm gives me a great fondness for all things  farm, including silos,
 especially silos turned into intimate chapels with stained glass 

So I walk the eleven circuits of the labyrinth. I seek nothing; He speaks anyway.

Always when we are quiet, He can speak and we can hear.



And I think as I walk carefully, staying within the narrow path of gray. How simple is the labyrinth walk, how profound in its simplicty.

 And then, you are at the center. Simple, clean, ordinary yet extr-odinary. Extra, above, beyond the ordinary- above the common, the customary, the habitual.

I am at the center of the labyrinth, at the heart of my walk.  

But this is too often what my ordinary looks like. 

I have learned some lessons this spring. 

I set off in the dead of winter and have had spring everywhere I've traveled. 

 I have a small home that I haul around with winter clothes, spring clothes, 

summer clothes for the coming season.  

I have books- way too many books. 

I have staples and supplies to cook with; toiletries, toilet paer and towels.  

A mattress topper and linens, throws and pillows.

I carry creature comforts. 

Like moss growing up in the cracks of a labyrinth, my stuff distracts me. 

 The moss would eventually cover the stone if allowed to grow, 

obscure the path,

 blur the lines this seeker desires to follow. 

 I lay on my back on the cool stone floor of grain silos. Previously utilitarian storage, they have been transformed into chapels. A thin strip of mosaic glass bisects thick white walls.  Tops that once guarded grain are removed. Now, clouds flow by and I am guarded by the sky contained in a single, perfect orb. I float beneath a blue and white earth while the brown and green earth rotates beneath me.   Life is complete and all  I need is contained in the small space I occupy.

So why do I carry all the stuff?

 More and more, I am shedding the need for stuff.  I can only fully absorb one, perhaps two books at a time. I need a notebook and a pen, not a dozen of each.

 I collect seeds, rocks and shells but one of each would be enough to remind me of the lessons of desert, mountain and sea.

 I have worn half my clothes.  I'm not even sleeping in my camper much- I know plenty of people who appear happy to host me in their homes. I buy food and cook for them in their fully equipped kitchens.

My camper is helpful to haul baby stuff to my daughter and return the remaining Virginia stuff to my South Dakota house. I'm seeing a pattern here.

Everything is neatly stacked away. Invisible, neat and tidy. Until the road swerves and I hit the unexpected bumps of the road and suddenly, my neat and tidy is strewn and messy. My camper has locking doors but inevitably I leave out a book or two, a box of rocks, a pile of maps, a potholder.  And they all  end up on the floor to confront me when I next open the door.

Is my stuff the moss that is threatening to cover my path, slow down my journey?

1. The material out of which something is made or formed; substance. 2. The essential substance or elements; essence:                        "We are such stuff/As dreams are made on"(Shakespeare).

Stuff

3. Informal a. Unspecified material: Put that stuff over there. b. Household or personal articles considered as a group. c. Worthless objects It also means to cram full, to add more than is legal, to stuff the ballot box, to block an opening, to overeat, to gorge.  To fill one's mind.     http://www.thefreedictionary.com/stuff What does the simple walk look like? Is this how I want my journey - stuffed, crammed, gorged?  This spring as I have traveled, I have soaked in great beauty; met new friends, enjoyed old; captured lovely images and ..... I  have been reminded again, that it's not about the stuff.  I need to let go, give more away, need less. So where else in my life do can I store and stash? When the life journey swerves or hits a bump what other junk ends up exposed? In this season, I'm cleaning out old emotional baggage.  I'm exploring relational patterns that no longer fit who I am becoming.  It's exhilarating. It's freedom. And it's time to cut some bonds to some of the stuff.  I want my future journey to reflect this lesson - travel lighter.... There's beauty in the open road.