nce confined to ancient cathedrals, and considered the domain of mystics and spiritual healers, labyrinths are popping up in hospital courtyards, community parks, and backyards as venues for creativity, healing, reconciliation, and meditation.

Those who study and use these mysterious structures suggest that incorporating them in your life can reduce stress, enable problem-solving, build communities, and replace more static practices such as seated meditation. The American Psychological Association headquarters, in Washington, D.C., placed one in its rooftop meditation garden, and Charlotte’s Presbyterian Hospital features a labyrinth in its courtyard.

Labyrinths can be created in the midst of elaborate gardens, or they can be simple pebbled paths in a grassy area or courtyard. They can be constructed as either temporary or permanent features — and even come in handheld or desktop versions.

Walk This Way

The labyrinth is not a maze, as many might imagine. It has no dead ends and no tricks, but offers a single, circuitous path that leads to the center and then back out again.

“It’s helped me get over the death of my mother and other challenges,” says Charlottean Kathy Mansfield. She calls herself a type-A personality who found it difficult to practice traditional meditation. However, she says, she experiences a sense of calm at the center of the labyrinth. “As I’m walking it, all the issues and stress drain away,” she explains. “It helps me to release tension and figure things out. It’s amazing — I go in stressed, and when I come out, the stress is gone.”

According to Mansfield, who built a labyrinth in the yard of her mountain home, there is no right or wrong way to walk a labyrinth. But, there is a particular frame of mind that is helpful when beginning the journey. She uses a three-step process of “releasing, centering, and re-emerging.”

Mansfield suggests starting with a pause, and then moving your focus inward, much as you might in prayer or traditional meditation. The process for walking may follow an initial preparation or contemplation that includes pondering something that is bothering you or weighing you down: a personal problem, a family concern, or an emotional wound. The inward journey requires leaving behind those worries, preoccupations, and challenges. Mansfield says she makes a list of what she wants to let go of and “empties herself to become receptive and open to the experience.”

The second part of the path entails arriving at the center and enjoying the stillness. “This is a time to be open, empty, expectant,” Mansfield advises. She says part of the labyrinth experience is listening to your inner voice and considering the possibility of the “new and miraculous” transforming your life.

The return marks the final part of the journey. Here, the walker retraces the path, with a focus on re-energizing and gaining insights into the world.

To fully benefit from the labyrinth experience, Mansfield encourages people to write down their thoughts and reflections once the walk is complete. But the process is not limited to just walking. “Some dance it, and some sing it. My son ran it!” she says.

History’s Amazing Lessons

Mansfield has used labyrinths as a conduit for personal growth since 2000, when she made her first visit to France. Her recent trip to Chartres Cathedral, near Paris, included a labyrinth facilitator training session with Lauren Artress, an author, psychotherapist, and Episcopal priest who has used labyrinths for transformation since the early 1990s.

Many labyrinths, including the one at Myers Park Baptist Church, use the pattern found on the floor of Chartres Cathedral. The pattern, painted in concrete, provides an  entrance stepping stone and a pathway to walk in silence. Though the Chartres labyrinth may be the most popular model today, other patterns exist, including squares and contemporary designs. Mansfield suggests that the sacred geometry of the medieval designs bring better results.

During the Middle Ages, the labyrinth walk replaced the pilgrimage for those who could not afford a trip to the Holy Land. But, labyrinths can be traced back over 3,500 years. They cut across cultures and can be found in Peru, India, Egypt, Crete, and beyond.

As a member of Duke Divinity School’s Reconciliation Advisory Board, Mansfield hopes to use the labyrinth in community-building exercises. She says a design for a labyrinth with two entrances helped South Africans heal from apartheid. “I am hoping to use the labyrinth as part of the program [with Duke] for work in Africa,” she says.

Close To Home

Catherine Anderson’s backyard labyrinth, made of stones and grass, takes its inspiration from Chartres as well. Just outside her Charlotte studio, a red-shouldered hawk drinks from the birdbath, and a fawn walks on spindly legs along the path in the serene garden that Anderson built, with the help of her family.

As a lawyer turned photographer, writer, and collage artist, Anderson, who is originally from South Africa, uses her labyrinth for creative inspiration and as a mini-retreat to re-energize during the course of the day. Perceiving entering the path as “going into the land of creativity,” she feels that walking it “balances you out.”

The creative process, like life, can seem circuitous and indirect — just like the labyrinth. “You think you’re almost there, almost at the center, and then you find yourself on the outside again,” Anderson says. “But, in the end, you make it to the stillness at the heart.”

The labyrinth combines both right- and left-brain activity and helps to arrive at solutions. “To be creative,” Anderson says, “you have to be receptive and allow yourself time to listen. Walking it becomes a constant reminder that if you just keep putting one foot in front of the other, you’ll get to where you want to go.”

Anderson’s company, Whole Brain Consulting, just completed a time management workshop for a business group, using the labyrinth as a tool. “The participants had a hard time slowing down,” she says. “The labyrinth, with its twists and turns, makes you slow your pace.”

Before building the stone labyrinth in her garden, Anderson used a miniature labyrinth cut into wood, and she traced the path with her fingers. “This isn’t an exercise you can do just once and think it’s done,” she says. “You have to keep coming back.” Desk-sized labyrinths give some of the same benefits as larger ones, and she suggests using those when it’s not possible to walk one.

Walking To Well-Being

The 40-foot, painted concrete labyrinth in Presbyterian Hospital’s central courtyard is used by patients and families confronted with terminal illnesses and end-of-life transitions. Designed by artist Tom Schulz, and set in the McGill Rose and Herb Garden, the Jack Matney Memorial Labyrinth was built at the request of Linda Matney, during the illness of her late husband, to serve as a place of retreat and calm. The rosemary planted around it signifies remembrance.

Presbyterian Hospital organizes an annual Celebration of Remembrance each September, when people are invited to remember and honor loved ones on site. The service includes instruction on how to walk the labyrinth as a device for coping with bereavement and releasing grief.

Kathy Brown, manager of marketing and development for Presbyterian Hospital Hospice and Palliative Care, says groups frequently contact her office to organize visits and receive structured guidance on working with the labyrinth. She says research suggests that it may have many of the same health benefits associated with meditation, including reduced heart rate. The labyrinth is open to the public 24 hours a day, seven days a week. Reservations are not required.  TCW