‘Paths and labyrinths towards happiness’
Greetings,
Here is a reflection from Kitty Macintyre, our honorary Pagan Chaplain, as part of our series on the first anniversary of the Companionship emails and of lockdown.
Personalising our path through the pandemic
I have felt, since almost the beginning of the pandemic, that navigating through it was very much like walking a labyrinth. We follow the path one step at a time. The path weaves back and forth and at points when you think you are nearly finished, the path turns again and you find another long walk ahead. You continue, trusting the path, and just when you think you might never reach the centre – there you are!
I have had a passion for labyrinths for more than 25 years. I built one in my garden. I helped my spiritual teacher, Andy, create one. It is now a ‘must see’ for visitors to the Ayrshire coast, on the shore below the ruins of Dunure castle.
My husband, John, and I were able to visit Andy last March, almost exactly a year ago, just before lockdown started, in the hospice where he was dying. He was in good spirits and even able to lead us a wee walk in the labyrinth in the garden of the hospice. When he died in April and we couldn’t be there for his wife and family whom we had known for nearly 40 years, it was awful. On the day of his funeral, John and I went out into our garden and planted a tree for him, said some words, shared the song we knew was being sung in Ayr, and held him in our thoughts and hearts.
As Andy and I shared the love of labyrinths, I spent the rest of that afternoon on my knees weeding my labyrinth and wandering through the memories of times with Andy. At that time, the path of my labyrinth was wood chippings. The path was clear, or at least it was after I had finished my weeding, but uncomfortable to walk barefoot.
Over the next months, John and I decided to lay turf instead. During my lockdown lunch hours, and weekends, I raked up the chippings and redistributed them as mulch on other parts of the garden. Another serious weeding took place, the cobbled lines that marked the path were lifted, and new fresh turf was laid.
The cobbled lines were then dug in so that the grass could be mown easily.
My lockdown routine includes walking the labyrinth every day. The weather doesn’t stop me – it provides variety. Each day the walk feels different, even though the path is the same. I pause at a stone that Andy carved, and I pause at the tree we planted for him. It felt very wonderful the first time I was able to walk barefoot.
In the autumn, I spent many hours, on my knees again, planting crocuses, dwarf iris, hyacinths, and tete-a-tete daffodils along the lines of the cobbles. It was cold but satisfying work, knowing, or rather hoping, that the work I did then would manifest beauty and joy in the spring. The parallels to the pandemic and the sacrifices we were being asked to make for a brighter future were clear in my mind.
The first dwarf iris bloomed about the time the vaccine distribution in the UK started. They were then covered with snow, but burst forth again as soon as it melted away.
The crocuses have now begun to bloom and every morning’s walk brings new blooms and sometimes, if I go out at lunchtime instead of first thing, on nice days I am greeted by my bees working away in the bowls of the blossoms.
The daffodils and hyacinths are still to come.
Our personal paths through this challenging time all differ. There are difficult turnings to navigate for all of us. Spring is now here and more freedom is coming. Keep walking the path laid out by the Scottish Government and we will get to the end and be able to meet together again rather than walking alone.
Yours,
Donald.
Revd Dr Donald MacEwan
Chaplain