Spirituality

Following the Tug | Walking the Labyrinth

Editors note: This article about walking the labyrinth was written by Nicola Smalley, who, together with her husband Jason, form The Way of the Buzzard, with an indigenous approach to spirituality that is native to the British Isles. Nicola and Jason run regular shamanic ceremonies here at the Monastery and all over the UK. In this article, Nicola reflects deeply on walking the labyrinth at the Monastery (and in other locations) as a spiritual practice. Originally published on her own website, her reflections are reproduced with kind permission and full credit. You can reference the original article here.

I imagine you may well relate to what I mean by ‘the tug’

‘The tug’ is how I describe a deep knowing within me that I need to do something or go somewhere. My head often has no idea why. And my head, rather than being alongside me, can tend to throw up all kinds of reasons not to do that thing. Sometimes, my head wins. Other times, it doesn’t.

Eighteen years ago, I remember very clearly a time when this happened. I wonder how different my life would be now if I had listened to my head on that day rather than follow that deep knowing.

It was the day I first walked a labyrinth.

A labyrinth is an ancient pattern that looks like a maze. However, whereas a maze has multiple paths designed to bring forward the logical mind, a labyrinth is a single path that leads to the centre and back out again. The simplicity of one way in and one way out allows the logical mind to switch off and the intuitive mind to step forward. From personal experience, when someone is led by intuition rather than logic, very different and often remarkable things can happen.

The oldest surviving labyrinth is 3500 years old and was discovered in a burial chamber in Sardinia. It is a finger-labyrinth, that can be traced with a finger rather than walked. Since then, this pattern has been used across the ages and throughout the world over thousands of years. No one religion or culture has claimed it as their own. Examples include labyrinths built into the walls of Pompeii, woven into baskets by the Hopi Indians, creating the stone floor of cathedrals and made from stones on Scandinavian coastlines.

This is a pattern that was created by a prehistoric mind, and has stayed with humanity through the ages. I find this captivating.

I knew none of this when I first heard of a labyrinth. I just knew that I had to go and walk it.

A different life

That day I first walked one marked a turning point in my life.

I was in a very difficult place at the time. I could sense I was on the verge of a nervous breakdown, which was something I had experienced in my early twenties at University, and so I knew the signs.

I was working in a professional career within a corporation and overloaded with work. I was stressed and exhausted working sixty hour weeks. I didn’t have the capacity to take any more on, and yet more came. I didn’t have any time for myself. I was desperate and couldn’t see how things could be any different, and yet I was struggling to cope.

In recent months I had begun exploring different spiritual practices that had led me to take up Qigong classes. Then my Qigong teacher sent me an email that said: ‘You are into things that are different Nicola. You might be interested in this’. It was a flyer for a labyrinth at Gorton Monastery in Manchester. I had no idea what a labyrinth was but something about it drew me in.

It came to the Sunday and I remember how odd it seemed driving into Manchester. I lived on the edge of the Peak District National Park. It was the first warm and sunny Sunday of the year. Normally I would be driving in the opposite direction, into the hills with my then-husband to go walking. But I had left him at home and chosen to spend the afternoon on my own at Gorton Monastery.

It was the 6th May 2006.

The labyrinth at Gorton Monastery was marked out on a huge piece of canvas. It was an exact replica of one of the most well-known labyrinths, the eleven-circuit labyrinth in Chartes Cathedral in France. I approached the starting point and read the information sheet explaining how to walk it. There is no right or wrong way to walk a labyrinth. You can dance it, crawl it, laugh your way around, stop and pause or run.

I don’t remember anything in particular about the experience of winding my way around the path. And I can’t recall the question I asked at the threshold, if I even asked one. It was what happened in the moments straight after I came out that had the impact. I sat at the table and chatted to the lady whose labyrinth it was, Liz. She was a psychotherapist. I had been wondering about starting therapy as I was so confused and unhappy.

On paper I had everything going for me, and the perfect life I had set out to create ten years ago when I had left school. But inside, I was crushed, and I didn’t know what or who could help me. I asked Liz if she was taking on new clients, and she was. I asked where she was based. It turned out that she lived three minutes up the road from me, at the other end of my village. I couldn’t believe it. This felt perfect. I reached for my diary to book in for my initial session.

I remember how hard it was to book in. My diary was full for two months. I had no space during the daytimes and she didn’t work evenings. But she offered to have my session at 7.30am in the morning. Again, perfect.

Everything changed from that moment. I had an elder to go to who would listen to me, and help me forge a different life. It took four years of weekly sessions to learn how to say no, and stick to my guns. This enabled me to take control of my life and create space for me. Ultimately through those therapy sessions I found shamanism. It took just over ten years, but I did eventually shut the door on almost all aspects of that life and step out into an entirely different one.

And it all began with the labyrinth.

Into the woods

Every year at Beltane Jason and I create a labyrinth in a woodland glade at our Space to Emerge retreat.

In fact, it was my therapist, Liz, who first brought the labyrinth into Fell Foot Woods.

Although labyrinths look complicated to draw, they are in fact very easy. The basic outline is a few dots and right-angle lines. The challenge Jason has in this location is getting the centre point in the correct position, as the space is bounded by a steep bank one side and a mountain stream on the other.

Space to Emerge is our springtime woodland retreat. Perhaps you have shared in this adventure with us one or more years? It is such a special community that is created in amongst the bluebell perfume and birdsong overlooking Lake Windermere.

Space to Emerge was born out of the idea: what would happen if we ran away to the woods with like-minded souls to celebrate Beltane? It is an epic weekend on many levels.

Beltane is the old Celtic fire festival that marks the end of winter. It is a time when our ancestors would come together and celebrate the transition into summer. It is the perfect time to hold a weekend like Space to Emerge, as the whole of nature is erupting. Our original idea was to create a space where people could experience spirituality and therapeutic practices they might not otherwise come across, just like when I went to Gorton Monastery and walked the labyrinth for the first time. From these touchpoint, great things can happen. Space to Emerge is about creating a space where these meetings can happen.

We set up camp in fifty acres of woodland stretching up above Lake Windermere. We have workshops running through the weekend, covering thirty different topics, three healing tents, a ceilidh band, four sacred places, including the labyrinth, and three ceremonies. Two hundred of us spend four days in these woods together and quite incredible things emerge.

It is quite a thing to come to, especially if someone is coming on their own. And a lot of people do come on their own. I would say about one-third. It is common for people who are on a spiritual path to be alone in their explorations as their friends and family “aren’t into this kind of thing”. Space to Emerge, and the wider work Jason and I do through The Way of the Buzzard brings together lone travellers so they can be a part of a community of like-minded people. When we come together, growth is exponential.

And as folk follow ‘the tug’ pulling them into the woods, I  imagine for some their internal chatter saying reasons to pull out is running overtime. It seems that our internal neighsayer walks alongside ‘the tug’.

Transformation happens in those woods through the reflections, dancing, laughter, tears, joy, drumming, singing, crafting and playing. The theme we focused on this year was play and there was a lots of it. We laughed so hard in the glade on Sunday night during the Beltane ceremony, there was a report that we were heard several miles away. Our laughs had bounced their way down the valley.

The labyrinth portal

We use the labyrinth at Space to Emerge as a way for people to enter the weekend. It is a space for people to land. To take time to pause for themselves. To take a moment for reflection and ask: ‘what do I need?’

We also use the labyrinth to help people reflect on leaving Space to Emerge at the end of the weekend.

In many ways, I liken walking a labyrinth to a shamanic journey. There is a starting point in both. In a shamanic journey, this is the axis mundi leading down to a door. In the labyrinth, it is the point where the path begins, which can be called a threshold. Then there is the journey going into the centre and a journey coming back out again. I like to walk a labyrinth with an intention, although it isn’t necessary to do this. A person could walk a labyrinth with no intention whatsoever. As I said earlier, there is no right or one way to do this.

It is incredible how insights are achieved walking a labyrinth. Things just pop into my mind, magically almost.

Looking back, labyrinths have played such an important part of my spiritual journey.

Since then, I have walked many labyrinths. I have also created them myself. With Jason, I have drawn them in the sand on beaches and from wool in church halls. If I find a labyrinth, I will always walk it.

The seven-circuit labyrinth at Gorton Monastery in Manchester

The labyrinth has been an important part of the process of writing my book, which is one of my greatest achievements. Five years ago, at the Celtic fire festival of Samhain, Jason and I were running a ceremony back at Gorton Monastery, and there was a smaller seven-circuit labyrinth there, like the style we create at Space to Emerge. At the time, I had recently discovered the story of my great-great-great grandmother, who fled Ireland’s Great Famine to take refuge in London. It was a heart-wrenching story that touched me beyond measure. I felt compelled to share it by writing a book, but I had no idea how to start.

So, I walked the labyrinth and asked how I should begin to tell my ancestor  Catherine’s story. When I reached the centre of the labyrinth, I cried. I then heard the words as clear as anything: ‘Focus on the emotion’. That gave me what I needed. Six weeks later, by the Winter Solstice, a writing mentor approached me and offered to help. This, I believe, is the power of the labyrinth. By setting the intention and asking for help, we put a call out to the universe and to our guides. The book flowed from that point, and I worked with the labyrinth through the writing process to help me during various stages.

At Space to Emerge, I always walk the labyrinth at the start of the weekend and again after everyone has left. It is my way of ending and closing down. This year a little cairn had been created in the middle from stones. Some years I might find a flower. Last year there was a sweet in the shape of a pig!

18 years to the day

I had a realisation when I was preparing for my two labyrinth workshops this year. I was immersed in reading books about labyrinths, which Liz had gifted to me when she retired several years ago.

As I immersed myself in the fascinating stories about how labyrinths have been used worldwide through the ages, I thought about that first day I met Liz and her labyrinth. I looked up the date. It was then I realised that it would be my 18th birthday of walking a labyrinth to the day on Monday, the final day of our Space to Emerge retreat.

Einstein said: ‘Coincidence is God’s way of remaining anonymous’.

Over the years I have come to learn that never a truer word has been spoken. These coincidences are so important to me. They show me that I am on the right path, that I am being cared for, that everything is OK. Amongst the turmoil what is the modern day world, synchronicity is one of my guiding compasses.

The tug led me to a labyrinth. That in turn led me to closing the door on the corporate world, a professional career and the stress and pressure that came with it. Which then led to many fabulous things through The Way of the Buzzard, including Space to Emerge.

I expect you can relate to the tug, and it has led you to transformational spaces as well. My encouragement is for all of us to continue to follow that tug. It takes to the remarkable. It is our soul nudging us closer to where we truly want to be.

As Rumi said:

“Let yourself be silently drawn by the strange pull of what you really love. It will not lead you astray.”

May 13, 2024

About the Author

Nicola Smalley is an edge-dweller, shamanic practitioner and writer living in the Arnside and Silverdale Area of Natural Beauty in north Lancashire, England.

Following a career in corporate sustainability, she now runs The Way of the Buzzard with her husband Jason. Her passion is anything connected to nature and the mysteries of the Earth.

Directions to the Monastery here.