Into The Labyrinth

Spring, 2002
from a profound dream-land experience

 

I wore my boots.  The thigh-high, leather boots with the sturdy heels.  The boots that had made my fingers raw and blistered to sew together.  The boots that had caused a fight—several in fact.  They were made for fighting though, gorgeous and supportive, and meant to be worn in confidence. 

            I wore the boots with leggings and a long, wool, hooded tunic because it was night.  As I left the hubbub of the cabin, the scuffing of my feet on the curving dirt road seemed to shout in the hush.  Tall aspens and pines stood sentinel, looking down upon me and, beyond them, the stars.  The moon had not yet risen and we were far away from any city so they pulsed in the black expanse.  I was small in the universe, and felt it at that moment.  Small, but not necessarily unimportant. 
           The boy who guided me was young, perhaps eleven, with dark hair.  He wore a black robe, also with a hood which he had left hanging down his back, as I had mine.  It was still balmy, but growing cooler as the hours passed.  I tucked one of my hands up into the draping sleeves of my tunic, shivering as we made our way closer.  In my other hand, I carried a sword.  Long and straight with a black hilt and a heavy curved guard.  The boy carried only a small lamp.  Ahead I could see the flicker of lights among the trees.
            I wasn't inclined to speak.  Neither was my guide.  I was glad.  It made things all the more reverent and really, this was a very important thing I was doing.

            When we arrived, there was only the High Priestess, clothed in her scarlet velvet robe, the black-lined hood framing her face.  Her skin was ivory, smooth and pristine.  Her black hair mingled with the lining, but I knew that when it was unbound it would hang to the middle of her back.  Her eyes seemed nearly violet in the lamplight, almond-shaped and surrounded by thick lashes.  She smiled at me, but it was the welcoming smile of the priestess, not the big grin I was accustomed to upon our normal greeting.  I knew my face would hold its severe, chiseled harshness—my serious-business-face, so I mirrored her expression.

            As the boy retreated, she gave me a solemn nod, I returned it, and then it was time to give up the sword.  I had been expecting it.  It was why I had brought it.  I had walked armed for so long now, sword unsheathed and held before me.  At the very least, one hand lingering near as it hung at my side, fingers twitching, ready to take it up at any moment.  But now it was time to put it down. 

            I relinquished it, not without some discomfort, though I knew it was only a symbolic trinket of the real armaments I clung to inside.

            "Welcome."  The priestess smiled again, one of those knowing smiles rimmed with the kind of pride a mother would have for a daughter, or an older sister would have for one younger.  "Are you here of your own free will?"

            "I am."

            "Are you ready to be reborn?"

            "I am."

            "Then come."

            She covered my eyes with a dark cloth.  Blind-folded, I allowed her to guide me through the hedges.  I was not afraid of this.  I was ready to begin trusting again and she had proven herself in the past as one who would be gentle with me.  Steady and strong, but always gentle.  Her hand rested atop my head, pushing down so I ducked and stepped into the small enclosure.  It was barely larger than my body in a crouch.  Settling down on the ground, I crossed my legs and made myself comfortable.  I could feel the walls close by, almost touching me. 

            "When I hear you feeling for the doorway, I will know it's time," she said.  "Your own time."

There was a rustling and some scraping, and all sounds from outside became muffled.  My breathing echoed in the small chamber.  It was very warm and comfortable.  From outside came a steady thump-thump….thump-thump…thump-thump…

Heartbeat of the drum.

I smiled. 

My vision was red-black behind my eyes.  Red and black like the Priestess' robe.  Shiny black like the highway upon a December night and red like blood.  Glowing red as an autumn sunset and black as the sky at midnight .  Deep.  Warm.  Thump-thump…thump-thump…

Surrounded by the darkness, I chose those things I would shed from the old life.  Anger—rage.  The blind rage that consumed my soul.  Thus blinded in the unlit cave, I felt only calm and wished that this feeling could go on and on.  This blindness was soft, dark.  The other was flashing and brilliant, like lightning searing my vision and destroying all in its path.  Confusion, apathy, degradation.  Cynicism and tunnel-visioned self-absorption.  Grief and bitterness.  Heartache, heartbreak, heartless, heartburn…

Heartbeat.  Thump-thump…thump-thump…

It was not their time any more.  They had served their purpose for long enough.

Show me the way, I sent into the darkness, into the light beyond the darkness.  Show me my path, now that the old one is no more.  Light of Lights, work through me, shine through me and let me be reborn…

*   *   *

When I stepped outside, struggling to stand on numb legs, the tender hands helped me up and gave me sight.  She also gave me a drink of milk, sweet and nurturing, then marked my forehead with jasmine.  The mark of a newborn child. 

I gazed out at the night with those pure eyes and I wept over its beauty.  I asked to always gaze upon the world with those eyes.  I wanted to capture that moment and bring it back into the world of gray suits and camouflaged uniforms and gang colors.  I gazed at the High Priestess and found her eyes were shining down at me.  I gazed upon the cave that had served as the transition between lives.  I gazed upon the trees and shrubs and the glittering sky, and turned my face into the wind.

She bade me farewell with instructions to follow the torches along the path, saying at the last, "Beware the Minotaur."  With glowing eyes, I gazed at the torches, gazed at the path, and thanked her for sharing this night with me. 

I came first upon the Maiden in a shimmering white gown that flickered the rainbow with her every movement.  Glittering dust lingered on her eyelids and cheeks and upon her rosy smile.  Her hands were like wands, spreading stars as she gestured, and her feet trod upon the ground in skips and bounds, leaving a path of flowers in her wake.  I wanted nothing more than to giggle with her as we pranced the path, arm in arm.  I knew and loved her well.

Next, I came upon the Mother in her gown of moss green and mahogany, draped in folds over her full belly.  Upon her brow rested a crown of boughs and flowers and her smile was full of love.  Within her brown eyes were flecks of gold that flickered like candlelight.  We walked arm in arm as well, but slowly, strolling as the easy conversations passed through the night air.  I also knew and loved her well.

I came upon the Crone.  She of black cloak and iron-tinted hair.  She with the ravens upon her shoulders and the falling stars in her eyes.  Eyes set deep within folds and creases of ashy skin.  A slit for a mouth with wrinkled lips turned under where there should have been teeth.  Yet she spoke to me with ease, for words were unnecessary here.  She laughed too, a sound of ageless wisdom and a great deal of amusement.  She chuckled at me, at the world, at herself as we staggered upon the path.  I wasn't quite sure who was supporting whom.  The rhythm of our steps was familiar, as I had walked for months hidden within the folds of her cloak, wrapped in her bony embrace.  I was ready to emerge into the world of the living again.  I thanked her for walking with me.  She touched my cheek and bid me farewell.  She, too, I knew and loved well.

Stopping for a moment to reminisce, I took in the winding path lined with torches and rustling aspens.  Their branches were full with the growth of late spring.  In the thickness of the trees beyond the path, it was dark.  Mostly shadow.  A patch of faint light here and there in an opening, but mostly shadow.  It was very quiet and I wondered what sorts of animals lived there, what sorts of meadows and foliage and secret nooks I might find.  A dark shape suddenly caught my eye, moving among the trees.  I blinked and stared harder, trying to make out the silhouette.  Was it a bear?  A man?  It stood taller than a wolf or cat or fox.

It was gone.

Trying to mentally smooth down the raised hair at the back of my neck, I continued on. 

I next came upon the God, virile and robust with his hoofed feet and chest of thick, reddish curling hair.  He stood very tall and his face shifted in the firelight, in the shadows, in his expressions.  Sometimes he appeared fair, sometimes dark, now a beautiful man with long flowing hair, now a flicker of a stag.  A crown of great forked horns rested upon his head and his tawny cape flapped in the wind.  As he took my arm, I knew him.  Slightly.  A new discovery of whom I was still curious, still enchanted, still a bit shy.  Consort.  Mate.  Beloved.  And I loved him well.

            We parted and I wandered the path alone for some time.  A bird called somewhere.  A single call.  It was answered by another farther off.  As I came to two torches flanking a large tree, I knew I was meant to stop.  The tree was different than any others that grew here.  Its leaves were full and glowed golden; its bark was silver.  Among its intricately woven branches, golden fruit grew.  As I approached, one of the branches dipped to dangle one just in front of my face.  Lifting my chin, I took a bite of the sweet, juicy fruit.  It was like an apple, but no apple that I had ever tasted.  Layers and layers of flavors, a multitude of experiences in one bite. I hungered for more but one bite, it seems, was all I was to have.  The branch resumed its lofty place with a soft rustle of leaves.

Continuing on, charged with this hunger, I hastened to find out what was around the next bend.  I skittered around the corner and suddenly pulled up short.  There at the turn in the path, standing just at the edge of the trees, was a tall figure.  This was not the God.  This was someone else.  He stood mostly in shadow, but I thought I could make out horns atop his head—two great, sharp, curving horns.  He leaned against the tree with his arms crossed before his barreled chest, one leg casually crossed in front of the other.  The Minotaur.  He was staring directly at me.

            Beware the Minotaur.

Was I supposed to pass him?  Would he hinder me?  Watching him out of the corner of my eye, I scurried past and made for the next bend in the road.  When I glanced back, he was gone.  With a shudder, I darted down the path, nearly missing the next stop on my journey.  I almost mistook the snake for a pile of logs, but then it moved and I paused to watch it.  It was slowly working itself out of its old skin.  The remains, a sheer, crinkling trail of dusty gray, wound its way back into the woods.  Fascinated, I watched the methodical undulations until the serpent had finally emerged, then drew itself into a coil with its head in the center, resting upon its hulking body.  "Remember thisssss," it hissed.  "The Ssssspiral Danssssssssss…"

            Nodding in awe, I backed away down the path, but my tell-tale hackles rose again.  I tried not to whirl around, couldn't help it.  He was there, in the shadows where I couldn't make out any of his features.  The Minotaur kept pace with me this time, walking soundlessly, his gaze fixed upon me as I traversed the path.  I couldn't keep my eyes from him.  Why was he there?  Why did he follow me?  What did he want?  Why did I need to be wary of him?  I nearly asked him, but just when I thought he would step into a pool of light, he vanished.

            Sighing in consternation, I stomped on.  I will talk to him next time.  I will ask him why he's following me.  I will ask him what he wants of me. 

A cloud of mist hovered across the path, fading into the perimeter of the trees.  Beyond it, I could discern nothing.  Two figures flanked the path, one male and one female, hovering just at the edge of the mist.  The male was dressed in a white Grecian garment with golden curls atop his head and encircling his chin.  Perched upon a log, he suddenly jumped down, holding out a flagon of dark liquid to me.  "I am the Wine God.  Drink with me and be merry!  You've had a long journey!"

Taking a sip, I discovered it was a sweet red wine.  I thanked him.

"I am the Corn Goddess," the female said.  Pretty and robust, she was dressed in a patchwork skirt and a bodice with overflowing bosom.  She offered me a piece of cornbread, saying, "Eat and be nourished.  You have far to go!"

The bread was also sweet and I was very grateful, for I hadn't realized just how hungry I was.  After I had shared the small meal with them, the Wine God stood back to sweep his arm into the heavy cloud behind him, causing it to swirl.  "Beyond you will behold—"

"—the face of the Goddess Behind the Veil," the Corn Goddess finished.  "Fare thee well!"

They linked arms and disappeared into the mist. 

The Goddess Behind the Veil.  She, too, I have known well.  And loved.  I calmly stepped forward, feeling the coolness envelop my skin, breathing in the thick, refreshing scent of moisture-laden air. 

She was there, amidst the sparkling droplets that obscured all but what she wished to show me.  The vision was mine, meant for me alone.  I walked with this eternal being for some time, asking many questions of her.  She said nothing, only smiled at me.  The smile seemed to say, "You have asked these things of me before.  And my answer is still the same."  With a sigh, I nodded and thanked her.  As I took a step forward, the mist suddenly whirled and dissipated, and I saw that in essence, I had traveled nowhere.  I stood beside the log of the Wine God's perch between the trees, and there was the end of the Labyrinth.  Beyond the last torch was an open meadow.  In the distance, the lights of the cabins twinkled.

            My heart fell.  That's it?  It's over already?  The Labyrinth had been beautiful and full of enchantment, but it hadn't offered me any of the promised earth-shattering revelations.  No knowledge that I hadn't already gleaned in my previous journeys.  No burning bush, no answers to my yearning questions.  I had been hoping for something… 

As I wistfully trudged the final leg of the path, I couldn't help glancing over my shoulder.  Nothing.  Not a rustle.  Not a glimmer.  He wasn't there and I had missed my chance to ask him all the things I longed to ask. 

            As I approached the stairs that led to my cabin, one of the cloaked guides—a young girl this time—was just coming for another initiate.  A loud thump reverberated inside my chest.  There was still a chance.  "Are you able to give the High Priestess a message for me?" I asked.

            With her affirmative answer, I quickly wrote a note and gave it to the girl.  As I awaited the response, I lingered about the stairs, not yet ready to go inside and speak to the others.  They would all want to talk about their experiences, hear about mine, but I was not yet ready to be back.  I felt caught between that otherworldly place and the return home. 

            Shortly, the boy who had been my guide emerged from the woods with the message that the High Priestess had arranged a meeting for me with the Minotaur.  My pulse raced.  This was it!  We returned to the beginning of the Labyrinth, had to wait a moment, as one of the initiates was sent on her way, and then he brought me to the High Priestess once more. 

"Well," she said, her familiar grin back in place.  "This is a first.  No one has ever asked to speak to the Minotaur."

            "Never?"

            "Never.  He's waiting for you in the forest.  Straight ahead there, in the thicket."

            She sent me with a small lamp and a quick kiss on the cheek.  Her eyes were glowing with delight.  So were mine.  As I tromped in my heavy boots off the path and into the thick of the wood, I found myself standing up taller, straighter than normal.  I was aware of the stray strands of my hair tickling my forehead in the breeze, the itch of the wool tunic at my neck, the lingering taste of the wine on my lips.  My steps were buoyant, vigorous.  Loud.  I grinned.  My pulse raced. 

            Off to the side, I heard rustling, rustling…silence.

            A dark figure stood in the space between two large aspens.  We stared at each other for a moment.  Then I walked purposely toward him, seeing that it was indeed the one I had come to meet.  His horns rose, dark and ominous in the faint light.  A silvery haze seemed to hover about him, obscuring him even further. 

            I stopped a few steps away—a polite and slightly wary distance. 

            He bridged the gap in two broad strides and his full form came into the circle of light cast by my lantern.  I had to tilt my head up to look into his face—the shape of a great bull's head, covered in soft blackish-brown fur which trailed off along his neck.  His eyes were brown and very large, but had narrowed as he looked down at me.  He crossed his bulging arms over his chest and planted his sturdy legs wide apart.  When he spoke, his voice was stern and resonated with the ages.  "You have strayed from the path." 

            "I have come to meet you," I answered boldly, finding that my pulse had grown calm, raised only by my enthusiasm over this encounter.

            He rose up even taller, looking down his broad nose at me.  There was smugness in his expression, menace in his posture.  "You do not fear me?" 

            "Should I?"

            "All fear me."

            "Why?"  Such a simple question.  One that seemed to constantly tumble from my mouth, and one that had caused me much trouble all my life.

He replied, "All fear the Unknown."

            "But that is why I have come to meet you."

            I think he understood me, understood all the questions that his silent, forbidding presence had evoked in me, for he explained, "I am the Keeper of the Labyrinth.  I am here to see that none stray from the path."

            Wrinkling up my nose, I asked, "But why is it important to stay on the path?"

            "So that none are lost."

            I blinked once.  My eyes shifted as I took in his words for a moment.  "It's your duty to see that none are lost?"

            He bowed his great head in affirmation and a light came into my gaze.  Warmth flooded my breast and I felt gratitude for his silent, daunting presence as I had traversed the path.  He couldn't have known that I would be so comfortable here in the shadows of the forest, that I wouldn't have been lost, simply exploring.  In my oh-so eloquent way, I answered, "Cool."  Letting the conversation settle about me, I sighed in contentment.  "Thank you."

            I was finished.  I had found my answers. 

"Will you show me the way out?" I asked.

            "Of course.  Take my arm."

            Grasping his long, hulking limb, I wrapped my hands around it, satisfied that I had come face to face with him, asked what I needed to ask of him, and found him a threat no longer.  He was my path—the path less traveled, the journey into the Unknown. 

He strode purposefully through the trees, leading me toward the torch-lit trail that would take me to the cabins.  Just as we neared it, I glanced up to see that he was about to walk his immense horns into the branches of a tree.  I was too late to stop it.  I couldn't help but let out a giggle as he tangled himself, ducked back, staggered, shook his head to clear himself.  All semblance of dignity in him was lost.  Patting his arm, I quipped, "Perhaps I should guide you."

 

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