|
|||||||||||
|
|||||||||||
|
|||||||||||
 |
Reflection Corner
“Seeing Beyond Fear”
written by Bonnie Odiorne 
The Setting
The outdoor labyrinth at the Sanctuary in East Haddam, Connecticut was quite different from any I had ever seen. They’d lined the path with small upright pieces of wood; the path itself alternated light and dark gravel, and there were rocks and plantings interspersed, which made it a lot more difficult to walk than usual. At the entrance to the center – quite large, with big rocks to sit on and still more plantings – there was an enormous rock that made it appear as if the center of the labyrinth was blocked. To complicate matters there was a “cosmic” walk on the path that walkers could self-guide with a brochure which described the stations numbers inset in metal: 20 billion years ago… 10 billion years ago… with the result that all the creation of animals and humankind happen at very short intervals in the center to show the huge span of time and our very small part in it. All this is background for the walkers who came to participate.
A Special Walker
Many walkers were knowledgeable; others wanted history, explanation, asked a lot of questions. And then there was “Mary” with her guide dog. I asked her if she wanted to walk, and if she wanted me to guide her. Though I myself am visually impaired, I didn’t know the protocol for aiding the blind. My first thought was to guide her from behind, positioning her body as she made the turns. She had trouble with the curves and the wooden borders, but most especially with her guide dog, Freedom, who did not want her on the path! Usually, as I’ve seen myself , animals are attracted to the labyrinth, but Freedom had other ideas. She tried to pull Mary off the path, not just once, but several times. Mary was determined that she was going to do this walk. The thing to understand about guide dog training is that the dog must lead, and the person guided must not be in control. She must trust the dog to make the safe decisions for her and not try to lead herself. Finally, after about the second long circuit, Freedom either got used to me, or accepted that Mary was, as the dog perceived it, going to put herself in danger anyway. The dog decided to trust us and she reluctantly went along.
When we got to the center we just sat and talked, which is so unlike any other labyrinth walk I have facilitated. It’s like spiritual direction. I was companioning her on her journey, and my role was nevertheless to guide, but from behind, giving a nudge now and again and doing way too much talking because I had to describe so she could “see” what she was doing.
Gifts Shared in the Center
At the center, I got to listen to her story, which was about her blindness, her determination to do anything she wanted to – and the labyrinth was certainly part of that resolve! I felt blessed: here I was guiding a person who represented my greatest fear, that eventually I would go blind, and we had to walk through the fear. Going back out (and Mary was very definitely going to do the entire walk!), she suggested that I lead and she follow – again a very moving metaphor for spiritual direction, this trading of places; we were literally embodying that familiar image “the blind leading the blind”. People watching at a distance said that, at first, it looked as if I was pushing her, then they figured out what was going on and were amazed to observe the process.
Concluding Thoughts
At the end, I’ve never been more exhausted or more exhilarated (a very far distance from the deep meditative walk I’d envisioned). This was my “little miracle” that I, a visually impaired woman, could guide a blind woman, could face very clear fear on the labyrinth. Her “little miracle” was that she could walk the path at all, fulfilling a dream. Both of us were blessed on the path.