Labyrinths Under Our Shoes
Despite colloquial English, a labyrinth is not synonymous with a maze. A maze contains multiple branches and dead ends, with distinct paths that point to a way out. A labyrinth has one continuous winding path that moves inward, always. This distinction has been lost since ancient Greek times — why? They each contain unique truths; it wouldn’t be a stretch to say that a maze is a perfect foil to what a labyrinth represents about how we can perceive life.
Minoans told the story of Theseus and the Minotaur to explain the origin of the dance performed by young men and women as they transitioned into adulthood, a rite of passage known as the geranos dance. It’s a dance that twists and turns rows and rows of the young men and women of Athens, symbolically sending them through the struggles of life and into the adult world.
Labyrinths represent forward movement. Walking through a labyrinth leads you twisting down a path you’re never meant to memorize. Actually, don’t think at all. These walls are intended to confuse you, so it’s best to stay moving forward and inwards towards the labyrinth’s center. Labyrinths represent the elusive quality that life possesses, which puts one through long periods of outward focus until a moment of inner clarity.
Mazes confound. Dead ends and looping paths are intended to throw the mind into chaos or a state of general darkness and dread. This is a puzzle towards an end goal, escape, and every step of progress is the mind’s renewed promise that this will all be over soon. Mazes are terribly finite despite their every intention of keeping the one traversing them inside forever.
There isn’t an end to traversing life; time will pass anyway, whether you’re working on it or not, whether you’re within or outside of the maze. Kafka writes to his friend Max Brod, “I usually solve problems by letting them devour me," indicating that surrendering to the trials of life is the key to overcoming them. Accepting the circumstances straightens out the path; there are no dead ends ahead or decisions to make, and there is no way out to look for. Acceptance turns the maze labyrinthine.
The mind seems to crave winding paths. Anyone who has wandered through an unknown city can describe a similar phenomenon. If you wander down unknown streets watching your feet, following a beat in a song, following a winding thought, you’ll eventually stumble upon some understanding in the physical world. Wandering syncopates our thoughts with our footsteps and sends endorphins straight to the endorphin-thirsty parts of ourselves that would rather wilt in bed. Our brains move forward when we do; change is never sedentary. In fact, the labyrinth from the famous myth of the Minotaur was probably once real, though it was used to bring the most devout of the Minoans to the inner sanctum of their patron goddess, the Pontia Theron, who was worshipped for connecting mankind to the natural world. The walk through the subterranean labyrinth was intended to cast off dark thoughts and to force the one moving through it to confront their primal fears of darkness and the unknown.
Traversing the labyrinth was transformative, and those who would eventually reach the goddess’s inner sanctum came out having transcended their previous anhedonia or self-doubt. It was a meditative process connecting man to the natural world, and it only happens when you take those first steps into the darkness.
Like Cameron Winter (Geese) croons, “You better start a-walking babe / love takes miles.”