``It's longer than it looks!''

``There's more in there than I thought!''

``You just never know where the next turn is going to take you.''

``It was so simple, but I feel like something's changed . . . ''

These remarks and many others can be overheard by anyone standing near the entrance/exit of any labyrinth. Just stand there for a time and listen to those who've taken this short but extraordinary journey and you'll hear them using phrases that mirror, uncannily, the same things they say about their lives.

The labyrinth is a metaphor for a life's journey, a spiritual pilgrimage, a rite of passage; it compresses a lifetime into mere minutes. A walk into the labyrinth allows us to look at our lives in a space and time small enough for us to examine, ponder, and comprehend. Those leaving the labyrinth are not the same persons who entered it -- subtly or obviously, the repatterning power of the labyrinth takes root in the psyche, helping all who walk it to release behaviors, choices, and addictions that no longer serve them.

The origins of the labyrinth are shrouded in the dim recesses of our pre-literate past. Cretan, or 7-turn labyrinths, have been traced back 4000 years. The partial remains of smaller labyrinths exist in Ireland, England, Scandinavia, the former Yugoslavia and in other Baltic countries. In the Middle Ages larger, more complex labyrinths were created. The Roman Catholic Church allowed ill or debilitated parishioners to walk a labyrinth (usually on their knees) in place of making their requisite pilgrimage to the Holy Land; the labyrinth at Chartres Cathedral in France is the best known example of this kind.

Labyrinths are archetypal symbols which speak to very deep levels of human consciousness. They are archetypes which we can experience directly, consciously, by the simple act of walking them. The trip into the center and out again mirrors our lives, our journeys, our creative processes. We pause at the entrance to examine the lay-out of the labyrinth, trying to trace its twists and turns with our eyes. The first few steps might be hesitant, but gain surety as confidence reasserts itself. With each successive turn that takes us closer to, then farther from the center, we find ourselves examining our choices, our needs and wants, our habits, our relationships, our careers, our lives. We feel what it's like to live out on the rim of a wheel, constantly in motion; our entire being seems to relax when finally, finally, the last turn takes us into the still, motionless center for a moment of peace.

The center of a labyrinth is the center of the Mystery. The size of the Mystery varies by individual; for some, it's a personal, private mystery, the unraveling of a tangle that's kept them locked in the prison of their own neuroses. For others, it can be the largest, deepest, most profound Mystery, the kind of thing mystics and philosophers strive to communicate for generations. The Truths discovered in that space resonate with a kind of clarity not easily forgotten. They may be Truths of thought, or philosophy; they may be Truths of emotion, felt and expressed freely in that safe, sacred space. Some find only their own Shadow, or utter Emptiness. Whatever is found there, at the center, is what is meant to be found there. And it differs for everyone.

The journey out, the return to mundane consciousness, is usually no less profound than the journey in. In a labyrinth, the way out is the way in. There's no opportunity to take a wrong turn, or make a wrong choice. It's simply about surrendering to the journey itself. Again, the repatterning energies of the labyrinth come into play, as the Truths experienced in the center become ingrained in the psyche. We emerge from the last turn blinking, mildly astonished -- and invariably, turn to give one last thoughtful look at the labyrinth itself, knowing what happened to us on one level, but also knowing much happened that we have not yet detected.

Labyrinths have resurfaced in modern times as a tool for healing, for contemplation, and for ritual. The powerful symbolism and wide-ranging appeal make it a good choice for those looking for a way to release grief, negativity, or depression; or for a way to embrace healing, hope, and joy.

Take the time to seek out a labyrinth, and give yourself the gift of walking it -- the view from the center is worth it.

In addition to constructing free temporary labyrinths in her local community, Rev. Matson also offers full labyrinth presentations for groups, clubs and special events. Rev. Matson can be emailed at alesia@vetl.org; or call (707) 677-9392 for more information.