I lay out a
labyrinth on a promontory hill facing the sunrise at the change of each
season.  Welcome to the autumnal equinox
labyrinth notes.

There is a
hole at the very entrance – birth seems like a new valley, asking for caution,
slow down and keep your eyes open. 

The path is
true, despite all seeming obstacles. 
Clouds often break.  Sun often
shines.  Rain often pours.  I am that I am.  Perhaps I don’t need the markers.  But keep the ritual. 

With the sun
comes shadow.  Socks hidden in my boots
warm my feet.  A rubber band is elastic
and naturally falls into double coils.

The grass is
oblivious to the path.  Humans, deer,
herding and rooting animal walk paths–migratory instincts that mark the
seasons. 

The night and
bright lights both can blind my vision. 
Searching for a spotlight keeps me from seeing the path of flowers, bare
spots, holes and litter of past parties. 
Traces of beer cans along the way. 
Realities of indulgence, distraction and even grace that comes from life
work-arounds, round abouts and detours. 

Investigating
my failures reinforces my success.  How
do I define success?  Money?  Stuff? 
Social standing?  Vacations,
savings, trips and clothes?  A long term
pleasant relationship?  A so-called
“fulfilling” job?  Satisfying daily
heavenly meditation?  Is my walk, my
life, a target or a walk in the park? 
Targets shift with the horizon and the earth is round.

I walk on a
path with sharp corners, twist inside and turn again outside the curves.  The center is a stopping point, but I cannot
root here. 

Each day I
re-member my spiral spirit and earthbound feet that a destination is
irrelevant.  I am a walking tree on an
endless path of seasons that now come to me.