As I walk the labyrinth, my feet gently sinking into the black earth lined with stones, I begin carving a space to hear the unheard. I stop a few steps in, and ask my soul as openly as I can muster, “What do I need to hear today?” At first there is a silence which creeps through me like a massive emptiness. But slowly I begin to hear a subtle hum. I recognize this sound. It is the gravelly voice of my fear. And as I look up, I see my fear crouching in the center of the labyrinth, staring at me. A cloudy, dense mass of all my doubts coiled on the ground. Its particles are formed of my uncertainties, dread, and confusion. The familiar voice is reminding me not to dream too big, or reach beyond my grasp. Its argument is articulate and compelling.
My feet start to falter, and I reverse my path back towards the entrance.
But then another sound surfaces. I hear my soul, a voice whose timbre I have had to learn. It tells me to turn and walk straight to the center of my fear; to look it directly in the eye. My soul understands that the key to my freedom lies in the heart of my fear. It inherently knows that my fear has much to teach me; and if I choose to learn, it will become an unwitting accomplice in its own demise.
So I begin to wander the path again.
I realize that my fear has created a self-sustaining habitat in my psyche; so intricate and prevalent that its landscape has become familiar to me. It is hard to discern that it is manufactured and not indigenous. To begin to understand it, I will need to study it, examine it, dissect it. I will have to research its behavior, and investigate its routine. What makes it thrive? Where does it hide? What language does it speak? When is it weak? Why does it have power? For it’s in the wheres, whens and whys that I will uncover the key. And when I can understand my fear, there exists the possibility to have freedom from it.
I summon as much courage as I can find; and as I take a step, I begin the inquiry.
By the time I reach the center of the labyrinth, the cloudy mass has dissipated into a thin, anemic haze. Unable to withstand any honest scrutiny, today’s threat has all but evaporated. And as I begin retracing my steps back out of the labyrinth, the path feels like a rebirth. Nothing looks quite the same, for my vision has altered. Facing down a fear can do that.
Today, I walked straight to the center of my fear, and ventured as deep as I could without my lungs collapsing. Seems like enough for one day.