L-A-B-Y-R-I-N-T-H
Even the word itself makes you slow down.
After this long, harsh winter – the kind that lingers in our bones and tests our patience – I find myself craving something simple. Not loud. Not crowded. Not another notification.
Just quiet.
A labyrinth is not a maze. You don’t get lost in it. There are no tricks, no dead ends, no competition. There is only one path: winding, circling, sometimes bringing you closer to the center, sometimes carrying you outward again, but always leading you somewhere meaningful.
Photo provided by Pooja Thakkar
This winter felt like a labyrinth.
There were days when the skies stayed gray longer than I stayed optimistic. Days when stepping outside felt like a negotiation. Days when the warmth I missed wasn’t just the sun, but the warmth of connection and community.
And then, almost without announcement, the shift begins.
The light changes first. It lingers a little longer in the evening. The air softens. The birds rehearse their return.
Early spring in Indiana is not glamorous. It’s muddy boots and unpredictable winds. It’s stepping outside without knowing if you chose the right jacket. It’s hope mixed with hesitation.
But that’s exactly what a labyrinth teaches us.
You step forward anyway. Not because you can see the whole path. Not because you know what the center holds. But because standing still is no longer enough.
This season invites us to unplug, not just from our devices, but from the heaviness we carried through winter. To read again. To sit by a window with a book and notice the light shifting across the pages. To take a slow walk, even if the trees are still bare. To reconnect with our own rhythm instead of the world’s noise.
There is courage in seasonal transition.
Winter keeps us inward. Spring nudges us outward. And somewhere in between is that tender space where we are asked to step outside our comfort zone and embrace what’s coming, even before it fully blooms.
And sometimes, we don’t have to do that alone.
Join us March 21 from 6:30 to 8 p.m. as we gather at the Peace Labyrinth next to PLC at Eagle Creek Park for a relaxed, low-key evening to welcome the season’s change.
For $10 (park entry included), you’ll receive:
- A brief introduction to what a labyrinth is and the centuries of history behind it
- Time to walk at your own pace with soft music in the background
- A solid excuse to watch the sunset and notice that the world is thawing out
- A moment to pause and reflect
- Water and light snacks for simple nourishment
Photo provided by Pooja Thakkar
No pressure. No performance. Just space to breathe and walk.
If winter has felt long, this is your gentle transition.
Here is the link to sign up for the March Peace Labyrinth gathering: peacelearningcenter.org/events/seasonal-shifts-spring-equinox-labyrinth-walk.
The beauty of a labyrinth is that you emerge the same person, but somehow lighter.
We don’t rush through it. We walk it.
And perhaps that is the lesson this almost-spring offers us:
We don’t have to leap into transformation. We only have to take the next step. Slowly. Intentionally.
Together.
Pooja Thakkar is working to build connections through cuisine. You can read her column each week in the pages of The Reporter.