Earthlight Magazine / Books / Home
Copyright © 1997 by Jo Israelson
All rights reserved. Inquiries should be addressed to
Twelve Star Publishing, P.O. Box 123, Jefferson, MD 21755
Earthlight Magazine / Books
/ Home
Copyright © 1997 by Jo Israelson
All rights reserved. Inquiries should be addressed to
Twelve Star Publishing, P.O. Box 123, Jefferson, MD 21755
Step breathe step breathe
No sooner had I hung up the telephone wishing for a way to meet
Lauren Artress and to walk the labyrinth when the telephone rang
again. It was another friend telling me Lauren Artress, author
of Walking a Sacred Path: Rediscovering the Labyrinth as a Sacred
Tool, would be conducting a workshop in Pittsburgh in February
-- one of the few times she would be on the east coast.
Step breathe step breathe
As a way to process the death of a friend and a block in my artwork,
I had been researching my dreams for about six months. This research
led me to study labyrinths and to create daily mandalas. I had
just read Walking a Sacred Path and was fantasizing ways to get
to a Lauren Artress workshop when the telephone call came.
Step breathe step breathe
It was snowing. A February blizzard. Go or stay? I packed a sleeping
bag, food and a shovel and set out for Pittsburgh. I made a commitment
to turn back if the roads were unpassable in the mountains. By
the time I reached the border of Pennsylvania the sun was shining.
I had passed my first crossroad and was now on the path -- but
to what?
Step breathe step breathe
It seemed incongruous to attend a spiritual workshop at the Doubletree
Hotel. How could one feel sacred in such a place? I was greeted
at the door warmly by Kay Miller, Director of the Somatic Institute
in Pittsburgh who had arranged for Lauren Artress to bring her
labyrinth and to conduct the workshop.
Step breathe step breathe
There were 48 of us, all sizes and shapes and spiritual backgrounds.
We came to heal, to learn, to find our path. I came without expectation
save sharing my proposal, to create Labyrinths in public spaces,
with Lauren and others. I had no sense of what messages would
await me. I had had no vision for this project, which I called
"Crossroads." It seemed to slowly evolve as my friend
died and processing my grief became the focus of my life and work.
Step breathe step breathe
The canvas with the design of an 11 circuit labyrinth was unrolled
before us, a six-petaled, rose-like form at the center. Each quadrant
contains seven paths. The walk from the entrance to the center
and back covers about a third of a mile. There are 28 lumations
(lunar symbols) which create the outside boundary of the form.
At various places there are "resting points" which are
shaped like labrys. The labyrinth is constructed according to
the sacred geometry adhered to by the School of Chartres during
the 5th to the 12th century -- a link between the sacred, the
cosmos, and the earthly world.
Step breathe step breathe
After a brief orientation, we lined up to enter the labyrinth.
I hung back, certain I did not want to be first. I walked around
the canvas, trying to ground myself. We were to bring a question
with us to carry to the center. I could only ask, "Should
I pursue the Crossroads project?" I was unsure of my motivation
and unsure if I had the energy and personal resources to take
on another year-long participatory art project.
Step breathe step breathe
The walk began. The first person to step in fell to her knees
in gut wrenching tears. Overwhelmed by some powerful emotion,
she could not move on. Unsure how to proceed, we waited for direction.
The next person stepped in, comforted the first person and we
continued. Some chose to walk around her, others to touch her,
others to just be next to her as they proceeded on their journey.
Step, breathe, step, breathe
I had decided to use a Buddhist walking meditation. Step, breathe,
step breathe. Others passed me by, some dancing, some skipping,
some laughing, some crying. I often felt lost, confused, unsure
of the path I was on. Suddenly, tears welled up and slowly worked
their way down my cheeks. But I did not look up; I did not alter
my pace. I would live through whatever feelings were emerging
in hopes of receiving the message I needed.
Step breathe step breathe
It seemed as if I had been walking for hours, placing one foot
in front of the other, breathing slowly, listening. As I approached
the center, I felt relief. The tears continued to flow as I found
a space in which to sit and wait. I was surrounded by others who
had made the journey, all in silence. As I sat with as empty a
mind as possible I heard this message, "Keep crying."
Step breathe step breathe
I did not want to hear that message. I had grieved for long enough,
or so I believed. I wanted to get on with the next phase of life,
discover my next road and begin a new journey. I had carried three
small gem stones on my walk. Those I left in the petal upon which
I had rested. Like the stones left by Jews after visiting a gravesite,
I had left my marks, reminders of the deaths of friends, parent,
sibling, dreams... "Keep crying." I rose to leave, unsure
of the way out.
Step breathe step breathe
I slept fitfully that night. I had no dream recall, just a soreness
in my body. Lauren said that often reactions occur weeks or even
months after the workshop. (One week later I spent a day crying;
the following week, two days with a purging virus.)
Step breathe step breathe
After our Sunday morning orientation, I found myself obsessed
with a search for "a thread." I could not enter the
labyrinth without it. I searched amidst the art materials, discarded
short pieces of string and came upon a skein of black yarn. I
began an intricate process of winding the yarn around my fingers
so that there were two working ends. I now was ready to walk again.
Step breathe step breathe
As I walked, I created an intricate series of loops, almost crocheting
with my fingers. The thread trailed behind me, forming a link
with the entrance. Others walked over it and around it. It became
a visual representation of my movement.
Loop and walk loop and walk
As I reached the center, I sat in the petal that represented the
human stage of planetary evolution and began to undo each loop;
saying a prayer for everyone and everything that had died in the
recent past. I awaited a message, illumination, something. I heard
or felt nothing. I waited longer, watching others enter and leave
the center in succession. I continued to undo the loops, shed
a few more tears and then lightened. I began the return trip.
As I walked, I began to laugh. "I am so-o-o stupid,"
I thought. I had received a message. The problem is I had not
realized I had asked the question.
Loop walk loop walk
For months, I had questioned, not only whether to pursue the Crossroads
Project, but whether to continue being an artist at all. As a
maker of things, a stone carver, I live on the edge of survival,
risking rejection every time I show the results of my work. It
is a hard life and one I had entered later than most. But there
was the answer: "Make stuff..." Even on my walk into
the labyrinth, I had carried stones and made things. I could not
keep my hands from creating, although my heart was in mourning.
I had the answer and now it was up to me to continue on the path
-- wherever it might take me.
Jo Israelson is an artist and sculptor who specializes
in art for public spaces. Contact her at Box 564, Union Bridge,
MD 21791, 410-775-1093.
Sandra Wasko Flood
8106 Norwood Dr.
Alexandria VA 22309
703/360-5233
Unitarian Universalist Church of Arlington
4444 Arlington Blvd.
Arlington VA 22204
703/892-2565
Call for schedule of walks
Cynthia Baush
812 Valley Rd.
Knoxville MD
For information on Seed Kits to construct your own:
Veriditas
1100 California St.
San Francisco CA 94108
More than 1000 women walked at the National Cathedral Woman
and Spirituality Conference this past July in DC.
Back to the List of Articles