The Tree at the Labyrinth

Yesterday, the two groups going through the spirituality training I've been engaged in since January were carpooled to a sanctuary near Sedalia, Colorado, for a day of meditation and inner work. The sanctuary was the brain child of a woman who lost her daughter and was guided by her spirit to build a labyrinth to allow people to heal, and two attorneys who cashed in their 401K's to buy the land, build the sanctuary, and the various meditation areas that you find when you explore the paths on the land. The sanctuary is also supported by Douglas County and numerous individuals. Inside the actual sanctuary, there are bookshelves filled with books donated by people from all walks of life and all religions -- it's open to everyone, irrespective of personal beliefs, as a place to heal. It was an amazing day . . . in addition to the large group work, we spent about 5 hours in meditation utilizing different techniques in different small group sessions during the day: Nature, Qigong, Sanctuary, Labyrinth, and Writing. The time in the sanctuary, going through a cleansing and healing meditation, was the most powerful for me. I think I floated out of the Sanctuary down to the Labyrinth to go on a walking meditation. At the center of the Labyrinth, I received the answer to a question I'd been seeking. At the end of the day, before the groups met up again, I had my writing session where we were given two assignments: one, write about the experience of the day to be read by my main teacher and the other, to write from the perspective of an inanimate object that you had come in contact during the day. I wrote from the perspective of . . . .

The Tree at the Labyrinth
. . . . . I was here . . . waiting on you to lean on me. I saw you look around at the other trees, trying to decide which was "the best", but you were drawn to me, even with the curve in my trunk. You fell back against me, almost in exhaustion. The sanctuary experience was tough on you. It's hard for you to let go or release. It's hard for you to let someone see you vulnerable. It's hard for you to let people put their hands on you and not pull back --- you're so scared that when they touch you, they will see through your carefully constructed facade that you're strong, tough, independent, and don't need anyone else in the world . . . when, actually, you don't feel like you're any of those things at times and that you do need people. So, I was glad to be here for you today. I was glad you leaned on me and felt my sturdiness. You need to recognize your roots are as strong as mine.

I can't wait to return to the Sanctuary with Robert and Mattie and show them my beautiful tree. The one that supported me when I needed it so.