a random sharing

In November, I went to a conference that featured David Whyte, the poet, and he talked about crucial conversations. We were sent away to walk, be in silence, be alone, write, do whatever we wanted. This is what I did:

I walked the labyrinth today
In an awkward, stilted gait
I'm always fearful of getting it wrong
Even though there's only one way in and one way out

I stumble on the rocks at every turn
It's like there is an extra stone at each turn
And the walk seems so long.
A journey to nowhere, no way, no one

AS I enter the center I feel so far from it
The question has been lost
I am walking without aim or purpose
How can it be that when we believe we are so close
to the end we are actually near the beginning?
And when we think we are only at the start,
the end is very near?

I keep staring at my feet
as if
they will carry me somewhere that I am not
rather than let them hold me grounded and firm
exactly where I am.

I walked the labyrinth today
In a confident, stable air
the path will take me
wherever I am intended to go,
if only,
I let it take me
take me away
Take me to now
Take me to myself
I am walking without