Cincinnati was not our final destination in early June 2001, but we soul sisters flew there to join one more, the first cousin of two traveling sisters. No, Paris was our target city where we would roam the country to walk labyrinths. We were part of a Women’s Wisdom Circle, founded and facilitated by Caryn Aman, a Jungian soul-centered therapist in 1997.
Our group arrived in the City of Light at 8:50 a.m. Sunday, hours away from checking into our hotel on the Left Bank. We toured, groggily I might add, in a small bus whose guide did her guide thing and pointed out major sites. Inexplicably, the bus stopped in front of the Ritz Hotel and our slow-moving group debarked and gazed around trying to look interested. Vici and I, who were definitely interested, winked at each other and edged toward the entrance in search of the Hemingway Bar. Less than four minutes later with firm footage inside the lobby, we were asked to leave. I wonder why?
Dinner that evening was at the Smoking Dog where we dined lavishly and chatted about the coming week. The Louvre was on Monday’s agenda, followed by an evening performance of Vivaldi’s Four Seasons at Sainte Chapelle.
On Tuesday we viewed our first labyrinth at Amiens Cathedral in northern France, 75 miles north of Paris. It is the second largest in France after Chartres. Its labyrinth occupies the entire width of the fourth and fifth bays of the nave and was probably placed in the Cathedral in 1288. Unfortunately, chairs covered the labyrinth so we were unable to walk it. Holding hands, we circled it, hummed our greeting dance, and then toured the classic Gothic church. We learned that it could easily contain two cathedrals the size of Notre Dame in Paris.
Wednesday and Thursday filled our days with visiting Notre Dame, crossing Pont-Neuf, becoming intoxicated by the beauty of Giverny, the works in Musee d’Orsay, and eating and drinking with abandon.
On Friday we left by train for the one-hour trip to Chartres. In 1201 A.D. the Cathedral was built as one of the pilgrimage cathedrals in Europe. Caryn had tutored our group on suggestions for entering, walking, meditating, centering and journeying back. I kept a slow-to-medium pace where a few people went around me or I passed others. It didn’t matter. There is one clear path that twists and turns, eventually leading to the center. Unlike a maze, there are no tricks or dead ends. Devotees praise labyrinth walking as meditation in motion.
Returning to Paris, each of us revealed the profound, individual effect the labyrinth walk had on our journey. I shared that it was exactly the third anniversary of my mother’s passing. For the entire measured walk, I thought of no one but her. At home, three males comprised my world — father, husband, son. Even two male canaries! Their energies often exhausted me, yet not once did I think of them. How and why did that happen?
The answer might lie in various labyrinth sites in Oregon: Portland, Beaverton, Milwaukie, Ashland, Tualatin, Tigard, West Linn, Clackamas. They keep one immersed in a spiritual and rewarding way. But to this day I still don’t have an answer.
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