6/22/2009
On a Sunday evening, as the stars begin to glimmer out of the overcast sky, we stand in a circle around the perimeter of a stone labyrinth and listen to prayers of peace from every nation and religion, then tred the maze to the center in silence, with only the sounds of soft chiming.

It is there, in the center that the real dynamics of our humanity is released. We stand, silent, waiting for the last person to arrive through the maze. We quietly mention those whom we pray, those whose health has recently failed them, or those who have suddenly died.

We stand for a moment in silence and then begin to look for the moon, for it is the summer solstice, and the moon is supposed to be shining down on us as we stand in the night, sweltering in the heat, even though the sun has long gone, feeling our bare feet on the warm stone and the mosquitoes biting them. We have been handed chimes, one apiece, and their soft clanging comes from various places in random patterns, creating a melody.

We look up, searching for the moon, and see nothing but mist, and then the mist parts and a few stars glimmer above, the Plieades and the two stars pointing toward the North Star, which cannot be found in the dim sky. We mill about in the center of the labyrinth, my neighbor whispering that the petals around the circle stand for the universe: earth, sky, human, angelic, universal, and so forth. I say that is interesting. She says she knows because she was a guide.

We are forming small groups, chatting in clumps in the center, now, as our human minds turn to more esoteric interests and social connections which we have. My attention is drawn to two people there who are new in the community. I have met them earlier in another context. They seem friendly and talk with me, even though there is another couple that is trying to gain their attention. I am temporarily flattered, basking myself in their attention, walking along behind the woman as we leave the labyrinthian circle and discuss how we would like to be home bathing our feet in cold water.

I ride my bicycle alone through the dark streets of New Harmony, seeing only outlines in black and gray to guide my direction. It is very quiet. I left the group of about twenty people behind me, chatting in the heat of the night in the garden surrounding the labyrinth. Jane was seated on the marble bench by the rose fountain, her bare feet up on the bench, talking with Janet, the moderator for the evening. Richard and Margaret were preparing to leave, but talking with others who had gathered at the end, not wanting to leave. They were hoping for more social life, I suppose, hoping to go for iced tea somewhere, or more communing in someone's garden or front porch.

It is a sociable town and I could have stayed and been included. But I am thinking these days. I am finding my purpose, a way to live, doing what I do, still, painting and writing and sometimes sleeping through the hot days, sometimes working all night.

I am not sociable at this moment. I have given up dancing tonight at Paradise and I gave up the company of my friends to go to the service in the labyrinth. So I am wanting to be alone. It spoils the purpose if it is just an excuse to get together with others. I went for a solemn service, which is now complete.

The night welcomes me and I ride quietly through the streets for blocks, passing houses with lamps lit within. Not everyone was at the labyrinth. There are lives being lived separately, as mine is. I am unafraid; I am boundless, I am safe, I am at peace, even though the rest of the world is thrashing about in a sea of woe. It is not what I am preoccupied with. I am just trying to go home.

Please go to the Amazon website listed below to find the titles of my books.


I am recommending this video as a statement of the moral responsibilities we have to be wise in our education, religion and laws. It is a great talk by Barry Schwartz on the real crisis in the United States:

Enjoy!