Some failure in life is inevitable. It is impossible to live without failing at something, unless you live so cautiously that you might as well not have lived at all—in which case, you fail by default.
– J.K. Rowling
A friend and I walked a labyrinth today. An eleven-circuit labyrinth haloed with lavender. Even with all the snow, the lavender tinted the air with its scent. We walked in silence, crunching through the snow, one foot after another, until we reached the center.
Once in the center, we paused, prayed, and remained still within our active minds. Then we began the purpose-filled walk from the center outward. Silence followed us and cocooned us in its gratitude and clarity.
Jagged snow-covered mountains painted our backdrop, and fog hung in the air. Thin strips of sun penetrated our circle, allowing us to see the red dogwood bushes and the one persistent purple violet, along with all the other plant life and lavender that moved upward from the earth.
After we stepped out of the labyrinth and settled on a stone bench, our conversation centered on curiosity and living less of a fear-filled life. There was once a time for us when we lived cautiously, not with everything, but most definitely with those things that mattered the most.
Our fears tightened our curiosity’s collar and we’d choose not to venture forth, believing the unknown was worse than the fettered-knowing we lived in. Our fear of failure created a barrier for us to hide behind.
We didn’t know there was so much more, a co-mingling of breath, sound, love, and togetherness. We didn’t realize conflict could encourage us to grow and sprout new roots and branches.
We didn’t know that the unknown allowed possibility to flourish. We didn’t know these things because we’d always chosen to stay hidden in what we knew, even if that knowledge didn’t nourish us or enable us to reach our full potential.
As we pulled away from the parking lot, we felt connectedness and willingness to proceed with the day’s activities. We embraced the unknown and rejoiced at the doing of it, even if fear tattered our edges.
We know we need not falter. We need only walk, one foot after another, until we reach the center of this life.