Labyrinth Walking for Anxiety

While T.S. Eliot might have described April as “the cruelest month” in his epic poem “The Waste Land,” March 2024 proved to be quite the doozy for me. I found myself unexpectedly anxious as I arrived in Seattle on March 10 to begin a week of intense networking in preparation for the launch of my book Distilled in Washington: A History. As a journalist who prefers smaller intimate gatherings, attending carnival-like circuses like Seattle Cocktail Week and Taste Washington added significantly to my stress.

At first, I dismissed these anxious feelings. After all, this year marked the 30th anniversary of the publication of my first article. I’ve lost count of the number of media-related events I’ve attended over the years. In theory, I should be well equipped to handle public-facing professional opportunities.

Fortunately, I had enough improv training that I could survive, at least on the surface. But by the fourth day of my Seattle trip, I couldn’t even focus enough to do my morning pages, a writing practice that typically frees my brain and body. And forget trying to meditate when I’m in such a squirrelly state.

Over time, I’ve learned to listen to my body and follow her wisdom. So, I took a pause and tried to see what my body was trying to tell me. I could see a vision of a labyrinth I visited on New Year’s Day as part of a ritual to set my intentions for 2024.

An Experience with a Labyrinth

For those unfamiliar with labyrinths, they might look like a maze replete with dead ends and blind alleys, but they are unicursal (made of one line) with only one way towards the center and then back out. While I am most familiar with labyrinths through the Christian tradition that dates back to the 12th century Chartres-style labyrinths, variants of this meditative practice can be found across faith traditions.

During that stressful trip to Seattle, I recalled having visited St. Mark’s Cathedral and spotting a labyrinth there. I made my way to the cathedral only to find a small group congregating around the labyrinth. As pressed as I was for time, I knew that pushing myself through the crowd so I could meditate would be nonsensical at best. I sat and waited, albeit rather grumpily, counting the seconds until I could start walking.

Then my brain kicked in. I was reminded that while there’s no set ritual for walking a labyrinth, I needed to ground myself before beginning this journey. I sat and breathed in and out … in and out … in and out … over and over and over, repeating this process until I felt my body telling me it was time for me to begin this journey. I rose up to find that the group had dissipated. It was indeed my time to walk the labyrinth.

How to Walk a Labyrinth

Each time I walk a labyrinth, I’ll twist and turn multiple times on my way to the center and then back out again. But as long as I keep following the path, I won’t get lost.

Despite what some spiritual purists may say, there is no “right way” to walk a labyrinth except to remember that this is a form of active meditation and not a leisurely mindless stroll.

I started by standing still and opening up my senses. Then I began walking deliberately and slowly with a clear intention in mind of what I am seeking during my walk. As I walked towards the center, I felt called to chant silently, Release me of my anxiety. When I got to the center, I stopped and reflected until I heard a small voice saying, Fill me with calm. I walked back out repeating that phrase until I exited the labyrinth.

Releasing Your Worries with a Labyrinth Walk

As I continued my journey through the labyrinth, I no longer felt the swirling storm of anxiety. Instead, I felt a sense of tranquility I hadn’t ever experienced on previous business trips.

I can’t say exactly what happened during my labyrinth walk that enabled me to let go when my other proven practices failed. But I could feel I was calm well beyond my bones.

The Rev. Kurt Neilson, Episcopal priest, CPE supervisor, and author of Urban Iona, reminds me of the mystery behind how walking a labyrinth can transform us in ways we cannot comprehend with our minds but can feel in our bodies: “The path to the center seems clear. But soon it swerves and leads one away from the clear and straight path. One spends a lot of time on the margins where frankly, when I would walk a labyrinth, I would often feel conspicuous and a little foolish. Then the center seems to be accessible again, only to lead away once more. And when one does finally arrive at the center, after a time one must turn and follow the pilgrim path out again. The point is not to stay basking, but to return to one’s ordinary life. But of course there is nothing “ordinary” about life. So we learn, over and over again.”

For those looking to ease their anxiety by walking a labyrinth, the World-Wide Labyrinth Locator sponsored by The Labyrinth Society offers pilgrims an easy-to-use tool for finding a labyrinth. Included are descriptions, hours of operations, photos, directions, and contact information when applicable.

Learn more about how labyrinths can help you embrace the unknown and focus on gratitude.