Walking the lines
An Eagle Scout project creates a spiritual refuge for a local church
Around the corner from Hanover Town Hall and a short walk from the library, a medieval tool for meditation awaits visitors strolling among the swaying pine trees.
The Hanover Labyrinth, the product of Ryan Brenner's Eagle Scout project in June 2007, is basically one winding path laid out with hundreds of stones. But it's really a metaphor for the journey of life.
"Sometimes you can look up and see where the path is going," said Betsey Josselyn, a member of Hanover's First Congregational Church who helped plan the labyrinth, "and other times it's not so clear, like life itself."
By day or night, men and women young and old follow the labyrinth's path, sometimes in groups, sometimes alone.
"The whole point of the labyrinth is there are no rules," said the Rev. Donald Remick, the church's pastor. "You simply walk and breathe and observe your journey . . .
"There are suggestions and traditions, but there is no rigid approach - there can't be, because the labyrinth is a place of surrender, of letting go, so that you can encounter whatever happens in that moment between you and God or you and your soul."
Unlike a maze, which has dead ends and false exits, a labyrinth is one circuitous route weaving into the center and back out again.
In Greek mythology, a labyrinth at Knossos, on the island of Crete, was home to the Minotaur, a powerful creature with a bull's head and a man's body. An annual sacrifice was made to the Minotaur until Theseus arrived and killed him. Theseus, in turn, was led out of the labyrinth by Ariadne, who laid out a trail of string for him to follow.
In medieval Europe, labyrinths were used as symbolic pilgrimages to the Holy Land and began appearing in cathedrals and gardens. Walking through one is usually intended to be a meditative and contemplative act, and many religions, including Christianity, have integrated walking meditation in labyrinths into their spiritual practices. Today, labyrinths are used by religious as well as nonreligious people.
The seeds for Hanover's labyrinth were planted 45 years ago when, as a young boy, Remick attended a country fair and picked out a pattern to have imprinted on a small circle of bronze. He still wears that bronze medallion.
Planning for the Hanover Labyrinth began taking shape after Josselyn and another chruch member, Tricia Geagan, returned from a trip to San Francisco in 2005 and shared their experience of walking the labyrinth at Grace Cathedral. Remick had walked the same labyrinth on an earlier trip, and they decided to make it a church mission to create indoor and outdoor labyrinths.
A church donor made possible the purchase of a 36-foot-wide indoor labyrinth canvas, and last year Brenner entered the picture.
"I didn't know anything about labyrinths when I first approached the church to ask if there was a project they needed completed," said Brenner, who is a member of the church. "Looking back now, I see the value of having a place for people to go and reflect or pray, especially for people who are intimidated by churches and religion.
"My part was to lead the building of it," Brenner said, "but there's a part of everyone who worked on it in the paths of the labyrinth. Some people brought stones from their yards, the beach, or travels and placed them there in memory of someone or with intentions and prayers. . . .
"Now as more people return to walk the labyrinth, they bring stones to add or use other ways to make it their own special place," Brenner said.
The Hanover version is 55 feet across, with a 2-foot-wide path. The stones, which were delivered in piles or one at a time, are laid in a roping pattern of eight concentric circuits. There are two entrances, one leading to a 20-foot-long path that goes directly to the center, the other to a 100-yard-long path that goes all the way around before entering the center and then out.
Around the perimeter, there are granite benches where visitors can rest or reflect, before or after walking. According to Remick, there are two common ways of walking: The way of silence and the way of image.
For the way of silence, it's helpful to focus on breathing, he said. The way of image might be done by reciting a favorite saying or prayer over and over to oneself, allowing thoughts to rise to the surface and then letting them go.
The labyrinth, on church-owned property, is always open. Every Wednesday from 7:30 to 9:30 p.m., Remick lights a log fire in a metal pit at the labyrinth's center and 18 torches that surround it. Gregorian chants or some other soothing music emanate from the back of the pastor's parked vehicle.
Maybe a half-dozen folks come to the weekly nighttime fire walk, said Remick, who sat warming his hands at the fire pit on a recent Wednesday evening, while gusts of wind threatened to extinguish the flames flickering from the torches around the labyrinth.
Soon, cars began pulling into the parking lot on Silver Street. Two women walked into the pathway silently, and were joined by an older couple.
A later arrival, Claire Garrigan of Hanover, said: "It's beautiful and I can get away from the business of the day and have quiet time to meditate, pray, and enjoy the night air. I think everyone should try it, just because it gives a peaceful feeling, and we all need that."
Kathy Talbot drove from Whitman with her son Andrew to participate in the fire walk. "I find it very meaningful, a place to reflect and pray. I also walk the indoor labyrinth sometimes," she said.
"I come to meditate, to leave everything behind for a moment and to relieve stress," said Andrew Talbot. "I'm a full-time student, and sometimes I have to study and I can't come, but I like to."
A few days later, in broad daylight, Angel Perron of Cleveland paid a visit. "I was so appreciative of the work that went into this, and it is such a wonderful place for the town to have," said Perron, who has come with her aunt Deanna White Hebert of Pembroke. Hebert and her friend Karen White Guistino were introducing the labyrinth to Perron and her daughters - Tati, 14, and Bethany, 4.
"I like the rocks!" exclaimed Bethany.
"I started coming here last year and came to almost every fire walk," said Hebert. "One time I came on a day when the snow had just fallen and as I walked, my footprints were the only ones behind me in the labyrinth. I've shared this place with many friends and family and even my husband." 