The entrance is also the exit.
I first heard of a labyrinth from a friend who brought a group of restless kids to one during a field trip. She was astonished with what happened when they walked through that maze. The kids, who’d just been impossible to settle, all quieted, each following its path while wondering at the gardens surrounding it.
It would be a mistake to call a labyrinth a maze, though. If you’ve never walked one, take a close look at image below, what’s also on the cover of my book. Imagine yourself walking through it.
There are no dead-ends. There’s a single path leading to one center, and the entrance is also the exit.
I understand walking a labyrinth to be a spiritual practice. You enter a space meant just for yourself, each step and each breath with its own personal significance. It’s a way of quieting the world around you and becoming closer to something spiritual. What you believe that something to be is up to you.
Just as one seeks to attain a level state in the center of the labyrinth, Alex seeks to attain a level state in To Laugh Well.
He’s opened himself up to a new world in college, and a pain that had once gone dormant is reignited. The question becomes not how, but if, he can attain that sense of being level he once managed. And can he attain that without acknowledging the trauma he’ll do anything to escape?
To Laugh Well is available on Kindle and paperback here.