Mazes

On Monday, David and I went to a four acre corn maze nestled between highway 101 and Stony Point Road, not far from the town of Petaluma.  David had an unexpected day off from work and we decided to take advantage of the lack of crowds.  We were one of the first cars in the parking lot.  The corn maze entry booth still stood empty.  Soon someone trotted over from across the field where she had been arranging pre-picked pumpkins for sale. 

"Do you want a map?"

"Nope" David and I chimed in unison without hesitation.

"Okay then, that will be 10 dollars even."

 

David and I started out trotting down the path buttressed by 12 foot tall corn stalks.  We took turns choosing the next turn when the path divided into two, sometimes three directions.  There were no dead ends in this maze so occasionally we would confidently trot in a circle and find ourselves at a familiar looking fork or corn stalk. 

Early on we firmly agreed, on no basis whatsoever, that the overall strategy of the maze involved reaching each other edge.  That at some point we would skirt the west, south and eastern edge of the square plot before finding our way to the exit on the northern edge, just meters from the entrance.  So when we spotted cars in the parking lot that bordered the western edge we cheered, then did the same when we spied the fallow field bordering the southern edge of the maze.  Then the path opened and we found ourselves standing in a hub where six  paths came together, we guessed right then found ourselves at a similarly designed hub amongst the corn, or was it the same hub?  We took the SE path then came back to the hub, then the NE path then came back to the hub, or was this yet another six-pronged hub?  And if it was, where was it in relation to the other six-pronged hub we had just stood in.

 

A twinge of anxiety overtook our original giddiness.   We found ourselves disoriented and it was beginning to get hot.  We kept circling.  On one jaunt we could see the outer eastern maze loop but again and again we could not find a way to get there.  I grew tired.  I sat on the ground in the middle of one of the hubs.  David ran loops, each time finding his way back to me rather than the way out.  We sat down together for a rest.  David spelled "Help" with shredded corn husks on the ground.  We were stubborn.  We had ran into two other groups, each with maps and declined a look.  We once again looked longingly at the eastern outer loop, we felt it was our ticket out, but were too proud to cheat through a few rows of corn to meet it.  We again sat down in he middle of one of the hubs, now not at all sure which hub it was.
 

I like how you can sort of see the
reflectionof my bald head
in this photo of the map

A pair of parents and their eight year old child entered the hub in which we sat.  This was the third time we had seen them. This time David and I asked for help.  The girl spoke to no one, incredibly focused on her task at hand as she was leading the way for her family.  The Dad however let us have a gander at the map, an areal photo printed on a postcard.  To our surprise there were four identical six pronged hubs.  And you had to traverse all four to get to the final outer loop to exit.  No wonder we were confused.  We parted ways with the family and set out to find the outer eastern loop that would lead us to the exit.  We started trotting again with renewed energy, holding hands.  We made a few false turns but knew the overall path out.  Then a few minutes later the corn rows parted and the vast pumpkin patch stood in plain view.  I felt relieved.  Free. 

We ate lunch and then David dropped me off at my Acupuncturist's office in Sebastopol.  On a small table in a treatment room I had not yet been in before, I spotted a circular metal disc etched with a maze.  Next to it lay a thin pointed stick which I presume one is supposed to use to etch their way through the maze.  I had seen this type of maze before, very intricate with the end appearing to be in the middle, but I had never given it much thought before. 

 

During the second part of my acupuncture treatment I lay supine on the table with a few needles in my feet, shins, hands and ears.  Dr. Prange gave me a breathing exercise, one that I could try during chemo the next day.  During the breaths I was to visualize a loop in the body, a breath in starting at the feet drawing up to the heart, then a breath out down to the palms, then a breath into the crown of the head, then a breath out down the spine and back of the legs to the feet.  I thought about my blood cells traveling in my body and that they too travel in maze like loops from arteries to arterioles to minuscule capillaries on to venuoles and then veins and finally back to the heart.  Just like the corn maze and just like the metallic disc on the table.  And I wondered why mazes are repeated in so many cultures.  Mazes are everywhere.

Later that day I learned that the metallic disc at the Acupuncturist's office was a replica of the famed Chartres Cathedral labyrinth built in 1230 in France.  Pilgrams from all over Europe came to walk the labyrinth as a devotional substitute for a pilgrimage to Jerusalem.  This process of walking quietly was felt to be an act of prayer.  Some scholars think that arriving at the center signified finding peace with god at death before the pilgram slowly retraced their steps to re-enter the outside world, be re-born, and go home again.

 

Although there are many labyrinths in Europe, labyrinths dating back to 1200 BC are found in Arizona (Tohono O'odham and Pima tribes), India, Egypt and China.  According to an O'odham oral historian, the labyrinth design depicts experiences, dreams and choices we make in our journey through life.  A legend in China tells that since evil spirits were only able to travel in straight lines, mazes served as a way to either trap them or protect the good.  Similarly, a story in Scandinavia tells that fisherman built pebble mazes on the beach before embarking on journeys at sea so as to trap bad luck on the shore.  According to Hindu lore, the universe itself is a game, a lila, that the gods play.  Walking a labyrinth is following in the steps of Shiva, the divine transformer who is lord of the dance.  Whether for protection or devotion or entertainment, I can understand the universal appeal of labyrinths that has cut across cultures and time.

I suppose there are as many labyrinth designs as interpretations of their meaning, but when I was in the corn maze I realized a couple things:

1. When you are in the maze, there is nothing else.  I did not think of cancer, of a future job, of the grocery list, of bills to pay.  It reminded me of the end of yoga class while laying in shavasana (corpse's pose). During this meditation you are supposed to empty our mind, yet I was never able to do so.  Next time I will remind myself of how easy that was in the corn maze.

 

2. There are no dead ends in life.  No matter what fix you get yourself in, there is always a way out.  And when you do, you celebrate. 

Preparing to jump...

...for joy