Earlier this year I attended a Storytellers’ conference in the beautiful Baulkham Hills, just under an hour’s drive NW of Sydney. The conference centre had a large labyrinth outside.
We were encouraged to walk in it during our free time. I was keen to have a go, even though it would mean braving the cold. I bundled myself up in a green skivvy, my black woollen jumper, a purple scarf knitted for me by my mother, my navy blue fleece lined parka, and my bright blue Monash Uni beanie. I didn’t have my fluorescent pink ski gloves with me, so I kept my hands in my pockets. The experience of walking round and around in the labyrinth was a peaceful experience that took about 20 minutes. I walked back inside, savouring the warmth of the heated conference centre. As I walked past the reception desk, an information sheet about labyrinths caught my eye. I picked it up and started reading it. The following quote resonated with me: