Free

Eleven days for the price of five, that's what two long weekends in a row will get you.  Had to readjust to being back at work, and to figure out what day it was.  The bus was pretty empty on the way in, later someone mentioned that it was because classes don't start again at the University until tomorrow.

Anyway, apart from now having entered a new month and a new year, the happy hour with coworkers before taking time off of work feels like another life: I got really sick, it snowed, Christmas happened, and I didn't make it out of town until later, the time alone, the driving (because I don't do it much, it really opens floodgates in my thoughts, and ideas, and inspiration for me; I work stuff out), time with my family, went out on an urban group hike on New Year's morning.  And then there was New Year's Eve.

So, I went up to St. Mark's to walk the labyrinth, hung out for a couple of hours.  There was music, and a steady stream of people coming in.  I never did find anywhere to burn anything, but even though that had been my intention, I didn't end up needing it.  By the time I'd walked out of the main labyrinth, I'd let go of everything.  I find that miraculous, actually; the need to prove anything, the need to be right, the need to hang onto past hurts or at least have them acknowledged, the need to hurt back, among others...just, gone.  Gone.  Is that forgiveness?  I don't know, but I do know I let go in half an hour what I hadn't been able to in four months.  (Earlier in the day even, that had not seemed like a possibility.)  And it's wiped away.  I still want the things I wanted before, but the baggage isn't attached any more, if that makes sense.  (Today, I was kinda' wishing I'd brought my work situation in.)

There was one main labyrinth in the middle of the room, and two smaller ones up on either side of the front, one that was marked on the floor, and the other a rainbow painted path on a large piece of canvas, both lit with candles.  There were sheets that explained how to walk a labyrinth for those who didn't know.  I liked the explanation of it being a communal experience, a dance.  How you need to take off your shoes; and how you should walk at your own pace, that you could pass people, (and there were probably at least 30 people walking through at any one time.)  That you carry an intention, or something you are giving (to God, by this explanation - but I don't think you necessarily have to be religious, the existence of labyrinths is ancient and universal, used both now for spiritual, as well as psychological, insight and healing- maybe you give it to the Universe, or just let it go) and how you bring something back out into the world when you exit.  How it is a form of pilgrimage, how people who had already walked it sat and listened to the music, but also in a way, as proof of going through, a witness to those on the journey, those yet to embark, waiting in line.  To hold the space, because you can't walk for anyone else, but you can hold the space.  We can all only bear witness and offer support or point in a helpful direction, to anyone else's struggle, we cannot solve it for them, because then we take away their growth, deny them their own experience.  Co-dependency.  (Okay, only the first few things were on the sheet, the rest was an observation, relating back to other parts of my year.)  I walked the first small one for practice, I guess, the other line being long, and feeling like I had plenty of time.  I started alone, but then other people joined me, so it ended up being communal.  Before I left, I walked a third small one, every step was an offer of gratitude.  I had already let everything go, in that half and hour while I walked the labyrinth, my head, and my heart were cleared.  I was free.

When I left to make my way back home, the almost full moon was high in the sky surrounded by a halo (or as other people were calling it, "a moonbow.")  I walked up to Broadway to catch the light rail.  I know it wasn't as frigid as the rest of the country, but it was cold!  There were a bunch of teens running and screaming in the train car I was on.  Caught the first bus back out on the street, even though it wasn't the one I needed, to get some heat.  Had to transfer a couple stops further.  It was only 10 pm, but someone was already shooting off fireworks closer to the University.  Went home and watched the end of the last Harry Potter movie, which ended at midnight.  Drank a hard cider, didn't really enjoy it, but I gave up alcohol at midnight, so...?  (Also, gave up sugar, and as of right now, have consumed half a bar of baking chocolate-the 99% cacao, no sugar, type.  I might make an exception on my birthday, not sure yet.)  Wished people a "Happy New Year!" and went to bed, so I could get up and go (urban) hiking in the morning.  Someone shot off 5 or 6 fireworks at 3 am, I was expecting it, it happens around he 4th of July, too.  (Predictable, but also, a random thing to do.)

If I do it again next year, I think I'll go with a friend/friends, it would be good to be able to share the experience with someone, because while it is just walking a pattern on the floor, it's also more, if it weren't, the practice would've died out centuries ago.  (Someone offered to go together next year, and several of my friends went, but either before or after me, I didn't see anyone I knew.  Most of them aren't particularly religious, it's just kinda' a nice way to mark the end of one year, and to make a fresh start in the new.)