A Spiral of Stones

We enter gently

the stone spiral.

We walk in what is

already whole.

We leave more

rooted

and

grounded

than when we arrived.

A place where the

visible and

the invisible

meet.

A few of my grandchildren laugh as they cross the first threshold light-footed, soft-hearted, and inviting me to follow them. They are excited to show me the mystery of the labyrinth and how it magically draws us inward.

They know what I once knew as a child. A spiral is not unlike the feeling of love going in and out and love always returns...only fuller and deeper with each step.

Stones arrived here long before I ever walked this spiral path at the zoo. A labyrinth of stones intentionally set in a spiral path inviting us to walk a short pilgrimage of play. Perhaps it is just a sweet moment for contemplation and exploration.

Stones warmed by the sun and intentionally placed. They patiently wait our arrival holding many memories and the power of a circle that never ends. It deepens our awareness. An ancient echo of remembering the power of a circle.

Step this way--my beloveds--the path beckons. We are not going anywhere in particular. We are returning to somewhere we have always known. When I walk on a labyrinth there is a quiet knowing that settles into my bones.

On this particular path certain stones have a carved word or words inviting us to read and absorb as continue gently walking on this path laid before us. Breathe the first stone reminds us. The trees lean in closely as they whisper: "We remember your first breath." And the wind answers softly: "You have never been separate." Fresh air are the next words.

When I became a mother, I had not known the deep well of love that lived within my heart's knowing that I could feel for another human being. Being a grandmother is yet another level of love.

Layer upon layer love builds with each generation. Grandchildren invite me into their joy, their hearts, their lives and when they say, "Come with me. I choose you." It is the purest form of a prayer.

They give of their love so freely...be my friend, co-adventurer, keeper of delights in play. I delight in their open hearts and free spirits of living and creating in each moment. Is that not why we are here? I think so. Something we easily forget when we become adults.

Paths curve because life and truth are never in a straight line...not spoken, but felt in the soles of our feet. The quiet inhales and exhales of our breath. In the way our love gathers together in knowing without having to ask permission to be in this space together and to absorb its mystery. Just to be here now is a gift. Children remind us to live in the present with them.

The stones are grounding us to the earth and ask us to return to our truest nature. Return is not going backwards --it is arriving more fully aware of who we are in this moment on our own path.

Light from the sun and our hearts gather in this circle -- soft, alive in every breath, and embodied. Each soul arrives and unwinds a little more with each step in their own rhythm. In the quiet walking on the labyrinth, each step, each breath, has a place to land.

Around and inward, around and inward...each step loosening time and softening the edges of becoming part of the path in our own way. Leaving bits of our essence and life story here.

I follow my grandchildren around the spiral they invited me to walk upon. The animals watched, the trees listened. Even the spiral we walked understood our unfolding: Love returning to itself through the generations. A gift.

I am the wisdom keeper. The keeper of warmth, love, safe harbor, and delight. I am a carrier of bread and story. I am a keeper of presence. I want them always to know they are enough and they belong...just as they are.

I am always excited to join in their adventures, to climb, to walk the path, to go down the slides, and to create memories they will remember in their bones...as will I.

My heart is full because I have given much and they have returned that love in the simplest and most sacred words...I choose you.

The words carved into the stones speak to my inner most knowing. Breathe, trees whisper, air is fresh, life is a lovely poem...My granddaughter turned to me after she read the words carved in the stones and says, "Grandma, these stones are speaking your language!" Insight and heart light shines bright and arrives in the breath-sized truth of a child.

My heart was full by hearing her comment. She knows me! She understands the very depth of my Soul. She is right of course. The stones, the trees, the wind, my love for my grandchildren they all speak my language. The language of heart.

LOVE given freely. Love like the spiral...returning to itself through generations.

Inhale: Light lands here.

Exhale: I remember

Pause: Feel the love.