this morning, fern, leo and i walked up to the scott st. labyrinth, on the edge of duboce park and right next to the harvey milk center.
last week, jeff had mentioned the sweet little spot he had found, and i racked my brain, thinking, “but isn’t that where that icky little rundown playground with the sand and defunct play structures is?”. and indeed, it was, but three years ago it was renovated and that tells you how long it’s been since i bothered with that little corner.
and it’s so lovely…the two magnolia trees with their giant blossoms are still there, with several big grassy patches, and in the midst, polished sand stone with a lightly carved walking labyrinth in the middle. as an introduction, there was even a miniature labyrinth for finger tracing.
fern put up with the camera for a few pictures, beside being nap-cranky.
i wanted to walk the labyrinth in contemplation, and fern wanted to nurse. so we did both, babe cradled in my arms and on the boob while i kept a slow and steady pace. i used to expect that if i walked the twisting paths “right” that some predictable, alternate reality outcome would happen upon me and, i don’t know, i would end up in narnia or something. now i approach each meditative walk with the thought, “i wonder how it will be this time?”
i thought of the labyrinths in sibley park that i walked right before fern was born, and the subsequent story of the minotaur and the mother’s journey that i discovered after her birth. fern is now over 9 months old, and i feel close to the mouth of the maze. walking out from the center, these past few months, this external gestation time, has been about creating a mother. the first days after she was born, i could no longer feel myself, as if my core of orientation was simply gone, apex of a bomb. since then i have been weaving, working, spinning around and about myself, reassembling, re-membering. today i walked this labyrinth as this new self, this mother, this new body, this new orientation, this new relationship, this bigger life, this all encompassing heart.
by the time i exited, fern had fallen asleep.
as much as i hated to do it, i had to wake her up so we could go home. i would have been more than happy to carry her, but leo needs more assistance on his walks these days, and i needed all 5 five of my hands. she was pissed at first, but cheered up when i sat her on the grass.
meditation upon a leaf.
have a good week!