Growing up, the summer days seemed to linger longer. My best friend Alex and I would spend weeks out of the summer at my grandmother’s beach house for “Camp Nana,” and we would often pause from collecting shells, biking to ice cream, and swimming in the sea to walk the labyrinth at the local church.
Somehow in the midst of soaking in the sun, we appreciated the stillness and inner solitude that walking the labyrinth welcomed.
Despite how the word “labyrinth” is often used, it actually is not designed as a maze, which has choices and complex paths. Instead a labyrinth has only a single, non-branching path that leads to the center. It is designed to be meditative not challenging.
|Revisiting the labyrinth I used to walk during John’s and my trip to St. Pete|
Alex and I would often walk the labyrinth before or after watching the sunset over the Gulf. I’d contemplate the day and pray as I walked its course.
|Blast from the past:
Alex and I visiting Aruba with my family the summer before starting high school
It amazes me that as children we appreciated the time for reflection even when there were dozens of other beach activities that could have taken our attention. How much more should I be craving this time as an adult?
A couple weekends ago, when John and I visited his parents in North Carolina, I had a similar experience to walking a labyrinth during our long hikes. Hiking always slows down time and helps me think, and there’s nothing like looking out miles beyond you when you reach the mountaintop.
|Hiking in Tullulah Gorge, GA and Cashiers, NC|
This got me thinking to how I could recreate this experience in daily life. How can I intentionally spend time reenergizing my soul?
My challenge today is to pause and consider “labyrinths” in your life that allow space for solitude and meditation.
|Dinner with the Shack’s in NC|