I love receiving feedback from my readers. Since the publication of Girls Don’t Ride Motorbikes – A Spiritual Adventure Into Life’s Labyrinth in 2012, I have been receiving a steady stream of positive feedback. Several women felt empowered and bought their own motorcycles, enjoying the freedom and independence; others healed strained relationships with family members, as this publication illuminates; many were thankful for the introduction to the Art of Labyrinth Walking, an ancient spiritual transformation power tool, making it an enriching part of their meditative evolution. In today’s blogpost I am happy to share with you the most recent conversation with a reader who just read my book for a second time, several years after her first read:
“I finished your book again. Loved it even more this time and believe I got more from the 2nd read. I’m intrigued by your inability to walk the labyrinth in New Harmony, Indiana. It’s where I was introduced to a labyrinth for the first time. I used to live just about 20 minutes away from New Harmony. Now I’m over an hour away. I miss it so much. I’m curious about the darkness you felt. It jars me. Now I realize you are far more intuitive or perhaps on a higher plane. There is directly behind that labyrinth a cemetery without headstones. Some are ancient Native Americans and some are the original Harmonists. But there are no stones. Were you aware of that when there? Could you have felt that?”
The passage Vicki inquires about is in Chapter 6. I had centered myself at the labyrinth’s entrance, took a step forward and was startled by a new discovery. The labyrinth pushed me back, didn’t allow me to enter. It felt as if I had hit an invisible wall. I took a few deep breaths and then reached out with both hands. A dense stream of energy trembled against my palms, pushing me away. Carefully I moved my left foot forward, but the labyrinth was sealed. I closed my eyes to check if I would receive more information about this unknown phenomenon. But my mind’s eye went blank.
Enjoy my answer to Vicki’s question: No, I was not aware of the graveyard behind the labyrinth. I am certain that if I would visit again, I would be able to walk this labyrinth.
Please note that I did not perceive a darkness, but instead, I felt that it was not the time for me to enter. I was on a journey of respect and surrender. Even so the experience was baffling; I trusted that there were bigger forces at work than my human mind could perceive.
In retrospect I feel this was a moment of very precise guidance. A force directed me toward the path that I was meant to be on. I listened and did not push against it, imposing my own will onto this higher force that I knew was guiding me.
That day specific events needed to unfold, for example the meeting with the gentleman at the maze just shortly after. Then traveling at the perfect time through St. Louis in order to encounter just a small fraction of rush hour traffic, and then riding through charming little towns of the Missouri River Valley enjoying magical purple orange evening light, followed by the meaningful visit to Hermann, Missouri. If I had spent any more time at the first labyrinth, the day would have unfolded very differently and consequently the whole journey would have been altered, too. I listened and was in tune with where I needed to be next.
Listening is the utmost form of connection to the higher force, which created all of us. I have meditated since 1981 and know this very well. My personal perception of reality emphasizes that I always yearn to be in tune with my inner guidance system. The awareness of subtle shifts in energy and emotion help me to stay on track with the higher blueprint for my life. I meditate every day to fine tune my senses and listen.
My only task as a spiritual seeker is to be in tune with my inner guidance system, and trust the journey.