"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 |


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.

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:

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 |
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