Walking the Labyrinth

For several months now, I have been kicking around a book in my head. It's not been an easy thing to ignore, but with plenty of activism and excitement going on, I've been successful. Until now.

It happened suddenly. I woke early Friday morning to send my love off to work, and tried to fall back asleep. But the chattering voice that is my Muse was off and running. I realized that the work I've been avoiding for months was exactly the work She wanted to discuss, so I pulled on some super-comfy clothes and settled into my desk. Together, we turned on the computer and pulled out the pens, and got to work.

My obsession with labyrinths began at a young age. I had heard they were building a labyrinth at the Catholic church in my hometown, and so tried to sneak in and see it (to no avail). But when the Presbyterians built a temporary labyrinth in their Great Hall, it was open for all to see. I went one afternoon, walking downtown after school, and entered the space. Even though I was not raised Presbyterian, I could feel the sacredness of the place, and of the labyrinth they had built. Knowing it was designed for a spiritual experience, and not specifically a "religious" one, I felt safe to walk the labyrinth. And I did.

Some years later, I connected with a group of women who had built a labyrinth on some land just outside of town. It was far in the corner of a field, just on the edge of the woods. Built by women's hands, planted with women's herbs, this labyrinth held a new kind of sacredness for me -- one I had been seeking my whole life. On each full moon, the women gathered to walk through the field, along the woods, and to the labyrinth's edge. Slowly, step by step, each women took her turn traveling to the center of her being. And we stood, as travelers and as witnesses, to our sister's journeys.

It was this labyrinth in the woods that solidified my love. The journey -- traveling in, and then out, and then in again -- resonated so deeply with my heart. It is exactly this journey that I have been trying to write about for several months in this book. And have been ignoring. So when I woke on Friday morning, having dreamed about labyrinths all night long, I knew it was time.

Walking the Labyrinth: 30 Days of Inward Journey is my gift to the Muse, and to you. An experience unlike any other offering I've given, it is a personal journey, guided by the soul, toward a new kind of conversation with your heart. Each day, you'll receive a soul-note in your email, guiding you to engage with your heart-truth in a different way. This might be a song, or a writing prompt, or video, or a guided meditation. Each one is designed to dig deeper, travel inward, to the place where your true stories live.

Digging into this heart work has been a blessing in disguise for me. It is such deep, personal, profound work that often I wish I could ignore it. Wouldn't life be easier if I didn't have to think about my heart? Wouldn't things be easier if I could just live, not worry about connecting to my true stories? These are the things I told myself for years. And one day I woke up. I realized it was killing me to be so disconnected from my truth. I wouldn't wish that pain on anyone.

If you are ready, even if you are scared, to cultivate a meaningful conversation with your heart -- to build a practice of walking the labyrinth -- then join us September 1. The journey is yours to take. You will go only as far as your heart is willing. But do not let yourself be disconnected from your truth any longer.

It is time.