The Labyrinth

“We do not see things as they are, we them as we are.” Anais Non

Another of my Favorite quotes is by Henry David Thoreau; “Could a greater miracle take place than for us to look through each other’s eyes for an instant?”

I believe we get so angry and buried in the pain of being judged and left, that we are blinded in a way. And this applies to everyone involved. Not just us estranged parents but our children who chose to walk away instead of staying and doing the hard work.

What I take from both of those quotes is that perspective can either be a stopping point that ends a relationship, or it can be a bridge that leads us back to one another. When we become so convinced that our view is the only right one, curiosity disappears. We stop trying to understand, we stop listening. We just build our case, gather our evidence and sit in our own rigid judgement.

Last year was the first time I had seen my estranged daughter in 6 years. Across those 6 years, I survived some of the darkest and scariest corners of my mind, but I was determined to learn. I had to be curious, which required an open mind and open heart. Seeing her was emotional, joyous and also bittersweet. It was not an instant erasure of the previous years. The estrangement was not just over, tied into a nice neat little bow. We both approached with caution and trepidation. I got to see that she was okay…better than okay. She is happy and healthy and that healed something in me. We talked and I heard her perspective… I didn’t argue my “side” or defend myself. There were still things I didn’t understand, still don’t understand. I guess I don’t have to. She has her own healing to do, her own journey to take and it is not mine. We all are humans. Our children forget that even though we’re the adults in the room, we are moving through this life for the very first time too. We don’t always handle things the right way, our fears and wounds show up in different ways, we made mistakes and will continue to make them, because we are human. Sometimes it feels like swallowing glass, but it’s necessary to realize the same event can live in two hearts and become two entirely different stories. What feels like love to one person may feel like control to another. What feels like protection to may be experienced as pressure, or projection. What feels like abandonment may have been someone’s attempt at survival.

We texted here and there, and talked a couple of times, She started asking me to go visit her at her home, across the country, to see her life as it is now. Yes, my first instinct was fear. My nervous system seems to live on high alert now. I feel like I’m always bracing for rejection. I even parent my other children through the lens of fear, sometimes overcompensating, sometimes pulling back too far, afraid to say the wrong thing or hold on too tightly. I second guess every decision, replay every hard moment like it’s a warning sign I missed the first time. Here I am being asked to visit her at her home and all I could think was, what if I say the wrong thing and this goes bad? What if just seeing me in person and spending time together reminds her why she left in the first place? What if her husband isn’t okay with me being there? If things do go bad, I’ll be at her home, hundreds of miles away from my home…that could be really bad. The “what if” game can drive you insane if you let it. It’s important not to let it. I’ve always been a person who lives in faith and the idea of doing the next right thing. I knew I had to go. I was being handed a gift to really reconnect with my daughter. God had heard my plea. If something were to go wrong, it was supposed to be a lesson. I had prayed for years, for healing - for everyone's hearts and minds, no matter what that looked like. So, I chose to believe that this trip to visit my daughter was going to be a huge stepping stone in the right direction. I had no expectation, no pre-conceived idea in my head or vision of what I thought it would be like. I went there completely open and vulnerable. And though I thought i’d be nervous, I wasn’t at all. In fact, it was absolutely the most amazing time Ive ever spent with my daughter. Seeing her happy and in her element was so surreal and gave my heart a sense of peace. She was at peace probably for the first time in my memory. I spent time with my grandson who I hadn’t seen since he turned two years old. He’s such a beautiful boy, so artistic and fearless. His blue eyes are as big as the sky. Her husband was on our side. He was warm and gracious. The four of us walked and explored and drove to different parts of the state so they could show me all of their favorite places. We stayed up till all hours of the night just talking and talking…sometimes about life things, sometimes about hard things. We went to church together on Sunday at a Franciscan Catholic Church called the Franciscan Renewal Center or “The Casa”. Many people visit there for prayer, healing and reconciliation. When we walked up on this Labyrinth in the middle of the grounds, I was overwhelmed by the emotions of the last 7 years…the grief and sorrow and regret and love and despair, and hope and forgiveness and gratitude and shame and euphoria. It was all right there on the surface. My skin tingled. I have no doubt God was there that day. I could feel him

A labyrinth is not a maze. A maze is designed to confuse you; a labyrinth has a single path that always leads to the center and then back out again. In Christian tradition, labyrinths became symbolic pilgrimages - representing the winding journey of life and the soul’s path toward God. At this church, the Franciscans add another layer. St Francis of Assisi (always my favorite Saint) taught that spiritual growth is not about perfection or taking a straight path. It’s about humility, surrender, and trusting God’s presence through every twist and turn of life. The labyrinth is viewed as a living metaphor for that journey - a place to release your pain, listen deeply and encounter grace. My daughter and I walked this path together criss-crossing each other as we circled. The irony and beauty - the presence of God in that place at that moment was so powerful it makes me cry every time I speak about it. And when you return through the Labyrinth, you return to the world carrying with you that new grace and awareness back into ordinary life, as you walk out. Such a sacred experience to share with her, so much symbolism in that walk. That day will stay with me forever.

There were tears and regrets talked about, apologies given but what I took away with me that will never leave is the overwhelming love I felt. For her, for them, for us.

I’m sure that has a lot to do with the fact that both of us have come a long way. There is no way to come through the unnatural pain of estrangement, and come out on the other side the same people. There can only be great pain where there is great love. I am almost afraid to share it with anyone else, afraid that something might break it, chase it away, ruin this new beautiful, fragile, precious beginning. Again, this is where I have to live in faith and be okay with the discomfort of the unknown. I always say God is Supernatural. Nobody, no person, is capable of what God is capable of. And so I continue to pray for healing for our entire family. Healing of our hearts and our minds so that we can all move forward together.