By Michelle McLemore

The bright service-blue sign simply stating “labyrinth” caught my attention as I was driving by St. Barnabus in Chelsea, MI. It was on my literal path, thus destined to be part of my journey that day. Suffice it to say at the start of our walk together in this article, when I stood at the entrance of this 11 circuit, 40 foot labyrinth, I felt a mystical buzz. I was about to embark on a new spiritual entry point.

The design’s energy resonance blurred the already-low hum of vehicles passing by on Old-US 12. The energy seemed to pulse against the surrounding trees and flow back to me. I hesitated stepping into the labyrinth. Was there anything I needed to know about how to take this type of walk? I took a breath and like always, trusted to be led to what I was ready to learn at this time. Then, I stepped in. I invite you now to walk through several literary circuits of knowledge I gained exploring labyrinths in southeastern Michigan.

Ever since my Moving Meditation article in Issue #79 of The Crazy Wisdom Community Journal, I knew I wanted to explore walking meditations. From walking or dancing in a clockwise fashion (either around a fire or statue or sacred rock) to walking miles for a pilgrimage or penance, the full body pacing of one’s self has been used for thousands of years to connect with, and divine from, Spirit.

However, when I first began mentioning I was visiting local labyrinths, people began making allusions to the Greco-Roman minotaur’s lair, David Bowie in the movie Labyrinth, and JK Rowling’s book Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire. These stories show choices infused with dire consequences along convoluted tunnels of either towering shrub-lined walls or stone carved caverns. Though the words “maze” and “labyrinth” have, at times, been used interchangeably, a clear distinction can be seen when comparing the terms’ etymologies and historical remains.

Our Outer Circuit: History

“Maze” is traced to Middle English and suggests delirium or delusion—possibly a truncation of “amaze.” “Labyrinth” can be traced to the Greek term labyrinthos which is a large building with intricate passages—not necessarily with misleading choices or dead ends. Similarly, per Doctor Julie E. Bounford’s The Curious History of Mazes, the Greek word for the nautilus shell, for example, is laburinthoi. The nautilus shell reflects the Sacred Geometry principles of the Fibonacci Sequence and the spiral pattern of growth to perfection as (and when) it is needed—spiraling in and out of itself.

Though labyrinths may be square, oval, circular, and even random shapes, the oldest are oval and have been found in northwest Spain, carved in rock. The theory is they may have been traced with one’s finger or eyes. Additional ancient labyrinths have been found on pottery, Roman floor mosaics, coins, the Nazca desert in Peru, and even tablets the world over.

At some point, Christian institutions began designing them as part of their complexes—either as outside gardens or indoor floor designs. It is believed they were used as a safe, cost-effective alternative to traveling to Holy sites on a full pilgrimage. The oldest Christian labyrinth is in the Basilica of Resparatus at Orleonsville, Algeria and is estimated to be from 324 CE. One of the most walked—and most emulated—medieval labyrinths is at Chartres Cathedral in France, dating circa 1205. The pattern can still be walked today by visitors.

The First Turn: Circuit 2

Labyrinth construction is classified by shape, center design, and if a second path is present for a quick exit after reaching the center. Each type has “circuits” or one path that turns back and forth on itself before reaching the center.

Classical style is circular in design with no central circle.

Jericho-style from ninth century Italy is square with no central resting area.

Concentric circular patterns range from five to eleven paths with a center circular area.

Medieval style has a six-rosette center design with its path divided into four quadrants similar to the Native American medicine wheel. Battle Axes or horn-type turn-abouts separate the quadrants. Teeth, or jagged edging, face outward from the outer-most circle.

The Baltic design has the long entrance and a secondary quick exit path, believed to assist ceremonial processions.

Of the eighteen outdoor labyrinths I visited from March to June 2022, the Medieval style was the most commonly installed. I chose to focus on outdoor installations, but it is fun to note, there are numerous indoor labyrinths across Michigan as well as wall labyrinths, carpet labyrinths rolled out for special occasions, and labyrinths printed on paper to be followed with a finger for convenience.

Turn Three

Back at the entrance to the St. Barnabus Labyrinth (which came to be one of my favorites), I had missed the handout informing me of the three phases to a labyrinth walk: entering, centering, and exiting. The entrance and first half of the walk is dedicated to leaving the physical, daily “real” life to retreat into one’s Self and the spiritual realm. By the time one reaches the center (where you may rest or dwell in contemplation) it is a typical experience to receive insight from your higher Self or Divine guidance. The third phase is walking the circuit back out the way you came in to integrate any insight gained and to prepare to re-enter the daily life more empowered.

Had my experience been limited by not knowing what to expect or these phases? No, because my intention had been simply to be open to receive, to take the time to breathe, be mindful, and try to go with the flow. Reading the pamphlet afterward simply clarified what I had experienced.

Fourth Ring and Forthwith Hesitation

The first two observations while walking my first labyrinth, was that I had to slow my pace. Dizziness from looking down and tightness of turns depend upon the diameter of the full design, the number of circuits in the design, and the width of the actual path (which I came to discover ranged from one foot to riding lawnmower width). Okay. Breathe. Slow the pace and breath. It isn’t about getting to a destination quickly. It is about the walk. The comfort in walking the design is knowing you don’t have to think about where to go. Each path is outlined—with brick pavers, wildflowers, grass, something. And that is another purposeful part of the design.

A walk into a labyrinth is about yielding up conscious control. There is a comfort for your brain to let the borders in your peripheral vision guide your steps while the eyes watch for the turns. The combination provides the balance of easing out of the strain of directing your physical body and turning into yourself with each turn into a new circuit.

Curiously, somewhere just past the half-way mark of my journey to the center, in almost every labyrinth I walked, I was suddenly pulled out of the nearing meditative daze with a sudden almost panic: Had I stepped off the path? Had I messed up the journey? Breathe. Let it go. Just continue. I did. And it did. Every time. Almost immediately I fell back into the comfort of the protected dimension of discovery.

As I stepped into circuits closer to the center, a question or situation usually surfaced—different than the common daily buzzing thoughts that had entered the pattern with me. And usually, as soon as the question clarified, I would find myself at the center of the labyrinth with an answer.

Reaching the Center and Culminating Insights

With my first few labyrinths, facing the center would cause an intake of breath and brief hesitancy—similar to what I felt before stepping into the first circuit at the beginning. As my experiences and visits to more labyrinths unfolded, reaching a center evolved into a release of joy and child-like energy. Visiting the perennial wildflower five-circuit labyrinth at SoulDig LLC in Jackson, MI, I looked back briefly at my sister Susan, along for her first experience, and then I jumped into the center with both feet…and giggled out loud. For a brief moment, we were young children again—barefooted, tangled-hair in the sunshine. Then, I stepped further into the center circle to make room for her to arrive in her own time.

At each labyrinth, I presented myself humbly, open to whatever insights or experiences I would be led to, trusting in Divine protection and wisdom. Without fail, each experience led to different insights. I’d like to share a few appropriate for wider audiences.

Your Walk is Your Business.

I talked my husband into a day date at Matthei Botanical Gardens in Ann Arbor. After a hike across the fields, past a pond, and a wildflower garden, we drew up to the labyrinth and he asked, “Are you going to walk it?”

“Absolutely. That’s the point!” I responded cheerfully.

He took off. I bit my lip smiling at his speed, reminding myself we all “walk” a different journey. The path being barely 12” of crushed stone, it was inevitable that we would pass several times. We did a high five each time his return loop came by my forward loop. (Be aware, this is not necessarily appropriate etiquette for all labyrinth situations. Most would suggest if you meet someone at the same point of the same circuit, one person simply steps aside to allow the other to continue. More serious environments would discourage any distractions of others in their meditation.)

In the center, we sat on the two large rocks for a few breaths listening to the giggles carried on the wind of other park visitors in the woods beyond. I found myself pondering: How do we each walk our paths? What does our chosen pacing reveal? What is our purpose per walk? We can guess answers regarding others’ and yet, then came the insight: It is none of our business. Our walk (physical, emotional, spiritual) is our own business. Similarly, you may have seen the meme, “What others think of me is none of my business.” Remind yourself as often as you need that it works both ways.

You will arrive. Regardless.

To the right of the main entrance from parking lot B at Ypsilanti’s Saint Joseph’s Hospital, is a sign directing visitors to the labyrinth. Tucked into an alley, nestled under small trees, the stone and paver 28 foot Medieval, 11 circuit design was surprisingly compelling. Stepping into the labyrinth was like walking into a bubble of calm, despite the fear and apprehension breathed daily into the rooms of the surrounding hospital wings. Within a few moments of that thought and entering the labyrinth, a text message came in from Roxane Chan, a holistic nurse who installed a 45 foot, medieval seven-circuit labyrinth on plush grass outlined by pavers. The design was installed in the side yard of her home in Saline alongside a traditional bell to ring before and after using a labyrinth. Chan was checking in from a nurses’ conference where she was about to participate in the dedication of a labyrinth to all the nurses lost during the Covid-19 pandemic. Timing. Wherever we are, we are connected in experience and energy.

Pulling back to my immediate locale, I walked the hospital’s one-foot-wide path and noted moss and tree debris were encroaching upon the outer circuit. I found myself mulling over what happens when someone’s path is blocked out or obscured? In those less-clear moments, we acknowledge the situation. We try to look as far as we can down the road to decipher the path, but we have to continue on regardless. As I came to the rosette center, a breeze came up and sunlight shone through, coinciding with the thought—You did arrive. You will arrive. Sometime. Somehow. Like GPS recalculating, if we encounter a roadblock, or challenge and must reroute, we still end up at a destination. Fear less...fearless.

The former Saint Joseph’s Hospital in Saline yielded similar thoughts. Just north of the utility shed by the old professional building (now a Montessori school), this abandoned labyrinth felt like I was discovering an archaeological treasure. Two young groundhogs were watching with interest as I walked toward the fieldstone. I chuckled to see a squirrel stretched out sunning itself on an overturned bench. The entrance to the 40-foot Medieval field stone design was blocked by a large burdock plant. I squeezed around it and continued. The use of heavier stones as the borders produced a grounding, mythical feel. And coming up on the nettle, prickers, and other wild plants creeping in somehow seemed appropriate in this rustic setting. (Though part of me at the same time wished I had brought my trowel and gloves so I could start clearing it.)

How do we react when we encounter roadblocks? Do we give up? Do we step aside? Do we work to remove the block? Do we look for meaning in the moment? We carry on and we arrive.

Faltering Walks Can Still Be Trusted.

At the entrance of the Manresa Jesuit Retreat labyrinth, I paused and actually whispered, “Wow!” I took a deep breath and was delighted to feel the energy of the design actually pull my body forward and in.

Mary Gresens, the main patron, has been involved at Manresa for over a decade on the Board of Directors, a graduate of its Spiritual Companions in the Ignatian tradition program, and as a Christian yoga instructor. The labyrinth was a three-year project, installed, blessed, and inaugurated in the summer of 2015. Gresens shared, “It is based on the eleven-circuit design at Chartres Cathedral in France, but with a diameter of 62 feet it is almost 50% wider.” A 62-foot labyrinth is impressive…visually complex. My vision seemed to waver like a heat distortion as I stood at the entrance looking across the circuits weaving back and forth.

Standing at its entrance, I could feel tears of emotion begin to well up. So many people had walked here in gratitude, concern, hope, grief—all trusting answers and guidance would come. The two-foot diameter path underneath was subtle brown and gray stone. There were purposely no benches placed around the exterior to ensure no one sat and talked which might disturb a walker. What does each person want when they walk the path? Peace, clarity, forgiveness? Directive? Ironically, a labyrinth leads inward and, in every direction, geographically, mentally, and spiritually. Had I expected this labyrinth to provide the pinnacle of insight for this article? Is that why I saved it for nearly last?

Read related article: Cretan labyrinth

It would seem there are many expectations of religious sites throughout history. We, the people, laden them with pressure and a demand to perform… perhaps unfairly. Do we place as much demand and expectation upon ourselves—our own spiritual relationship with the Divine? If not, why not? At that thought, my physical balance faltered. Ah. Because we struggle with spiritual balance and consistency? Is that our “excuse”? Suddenly, I pulled up. How had I arrived at the center already? Because it was time. It served as an exclamation point.

Despite when, and how often we may falter, it is still the individual’s responsibility to cultivate the relationship with the Divine—to ask questions, to explore the nature of Nature, to listen for insight whispered on the breeze or directed to our minds.

The Return Path

Leaving the center, the return path usually feels quicker, though just as much processing and integration is occurring. I would caution that if one skips winding back through the circuits, you should do a brief grounding meditation or sit a few moments before driving.

The labyrinth which yielded the most powerful return for me was in Jackson. Owner, designer, and maintainer Dr. Lori Tate is a spiritual life coach/spiritual director who invites everyone to walk her community-focused labyrinth next to the Northern entrance of the Dahlia Conservation Center.

With a Judeo-Christian background, Tate enjoys “helping people listen, notice, and discern what it is like hearing the Holy Spirit.” The current labyrinth, open to the public, is “version 3.0.” Tate chuckled. The first was an 11-circuit field stone-edging grass walk in a medieval style. Version 2.0 saw her expand the paths to lawn mower width for ease of maintenance. Version 3.0 was a dramatic revision removing the stones and reworking it to a five-circuit path, a riding lawn mower-width plush grass path with borders of perennials donated, purchased, and lovingly transplanted.

Wild yarrow, iris, milkweed, allium, lambs’ ear, lavender, along with other plants line the walk, promising a continuous changing experience of blooms. On my June visit, we had just missed the center’s brilliant kick off encircling the visitors with daffodils.

My sister, Susan and I discussed how the nature infusion supported this particular walk. There was space to breathe as the walk didn’t make us feel confined by a tight structure. The mind was able to flow, and we were able to thoroughly immerse ourselves joyfully, appreciatively, in the diversity of the nature surrounding and guiding the steps.

As I exited the labyrinth emotion welled up. Tears gently released as I hesitantly stepped out. Love. Joy. Gratitude. I could feel the love that had been—and was—continuously intentionalized into this work of living art by its host. Manresa, Every Woman’s Church, St. Barnabus, and Nativity Episcopal labyrinths all exuded similar energy. Works, such as these, will continue to be a spiritual gift and require physical maintenance. So, at each, I said a quiet prayer: Bless this home, this park, its purpose, and the work. Peace. It is done. It is done. It is done.

In a sense, labyrinths invite us in—into ourselves, where our past, potential future, and always present Self exists for a moment to breathe, talk to ourselves, and be in the eternal space inside “reality” and yet outside of it at the same moment.

Stepping out

Every labyrinth experience wasn’t soul-shaking yet did offer something to ponder. I chose my sites from the World-Wide Labyrinth Locater online and 18 was as many in Southeastern Michigan as I could visit before my deadline. There are actually many more in the area and across the state.

As I would discover, investing in a labyrinth is a long-term commitment (like raising children), and some organizations don’t have the stamina to maintain them. Also, most I did not find to be wheelchair nor walker accessible due to narrow paths or uneven walking stones. Be sure to call before driving a long distance as some advertised labyrinths were under water or in varying stages of being overtaken by nature. A few were installed by well-meaning people with minimal skill (or perhaps care?) in executing the symmetry reminiscent of childhood chalk-drawn fantasies.

If I found myself comparing designs too critically, I chided myself to remember each has its own design, purpose, and goal along with influences. What were the resources available? Who donated their time and effort to bring it to fruition? What caused the developers to part ways and have to entrust the care to someone who may not have even been around at the time of installation? Each is a work of art. Each installation is a beautiful journey in its own rite.

I met some lovely people—designers, caregivers, and walkers of these mystical paths. There are many more stories I could share. Still, you should walk your own path and see what experiences are brought to you on your own walk, in your own time.

Michelle McLemore is an energy and stress-management therapist who also does freelance writing. The full specifics of McLemore’s first labyrinth experience at St. Barnabus in Chelsea, MI can be found in The Crazy Wisdom Bi-Weekly, issue 87, “Out of the Maze and Deeper Into the Path.” Read about some other experiences on her blog at michellemclemore.com.

Quality Outside Labyrinths With 25 Miles of Ann Arbor, Michigan

Saint Barnabus Episcopal Church, 20500 West Old US Highway 12, Chelsea: 40’ in diameter, Medieval Chartres replica 11 circuit of brick pavers.
Matthaei Botanical Gardens, 1800 North Dixboro Road, Ann Arbor: 56’ in diameter, 8 circuit Baltic design. 12” wide crushed limestone walking path lined by Native Buffalo grass.
Dexter-Huron Park, 6535 Huron River Drive, Dexter, MI. $10 admission fee to the park. Classical design of three-foot slate stones sunk in grass.
St. Joseph’s Mercy Hospital, 5301 McAuley Drive, Ypsilanti: 28’ Medieval Chartres replica with brick and pavers.
Church of Everyday Woman, Saline: 46’ medieval seven-circuit labyrinth on plush grass outlined by pavers. Call resident owner Roxane at 734-478-0170 for access.
Former St. Joseph’s Mercy Hospital, 400 West Russel Street, Saline: 40’ Medieval 11-circuit rock design. (No longer maintained but a delightful rustic visit.)
Holy Cross Lutheran, 30650 Six Mile Road, Livonia: 42’ Medieval Chartres replica with brick pavers.

Labyrinths Within 50 Miles

Weber Retreat, 1257 East Siena Heights Drive, Adrian: 60‘ Medieval Chartres Replica with brick and paver.
Soul Dig, LLC, 1433 Wickwire Road, Jackson: Medieval 5 circuit. Garden with grass paths. Call 419-345-0592. Park in the Dahlem Center off Wickwire.
Westminster Presbyterian, 2301 Ridgeway Road, Jackson: 18’ contemporary design painted on concrete.
Northbrook Presbyterian Church, 22055 West 14 Mile Road, Bloomfield: 35’ Octagonal Medieval design in brick and pavers.
Nativity Episcopal Church, 21200 W. 14 Mile Road, Beverly Hills (Bloomfield Township): 60’ diameter. Medieval 11 circuit. Rock/garden brick.
Manresa Jesuit Retreat House, 1390 Quarton Road, Bloomfield Hills: 62’ diameter, Medieval Chartres replica of bricks and pavers. Call 248-644-4933 for an appointment. Silence required.