Part travelogue, part spiritual memoir, Candolini tells the story of packing his family into their car and heading out for a four-month tour of Europe's rich and diverse labyrinths. This book is the fruit of his travel, filled with history, reflection, and personal insight.
I'm not a big fan of anything smacking of self-help books. But I trusted the friend that said, This is good. Tiny chapters, each with a drawing of a labyrinth somewhere in the world or in history. Candolini traveled through England with his wife and toddler daughter, parking their caravan on side streets and walking labyrinth after labyrinth. A few more trips throughout Europe, finishing with Chartres. The history is fascinating, how many churches tore out their labyrinths because there was too much dancing through them! Including an Easter celebration by the priests! Of course, Theseus and the Minotaur figure as a continuing metaphor--who you find in the center, tho' the story was set in a maze--with deadends, etc. Candolini builds his own labyrinths in town centers for special celebrations and ultimately, talks about how the labyrinths have changed him.
In my library of books about labyrinths, this one and Lauren Artress' Walking a Sacred Path, are my favorites. This is warm and inspiring, and is about the meaning rather than the history of labyrinths. Rich, poetic, inspiring.
I have been searching for information on Labyrinths for ten years, ever since buying a necklace with a labyrinth charm. I randomly picked up this book at a library book sale a few years ago, but tucked it away for "later." Recently receiving monumental news, I suddenly felt like the book was calling to me. After all, books will find you when you need to be found.
I needed this book right at this moment. Broken into short sections - almost like a devotional. Each chapter begins with a photograph of a Labyrinth from around the world and a quote. The prose is the authors ponderings on his journey to study labyrinths but also what the symbol means - to him, to time, to cultures, to modern longings.
From the very first section he clarifies - Labyrinths have a 5,000 year old history. The interpretation of Labyrinths as mazes is only a very short portion of its history and is actually incorrect. A Labyrinth is not a maze. A labyrinth is one continuous path with no wrong turns. One path that moves you close to your center and away again. But you are always on your one path.
I needed to hear that right at this moment. There are no wrong turns.
The Labyrinth simply asks - are you going?
In discussing this book with a book group, I realized that the idea of "right turns" and "wrong turns" is a very christian/capitalist idea, a mechanism of control. While many labyrinths are in churches and there is a mild christian undertone to some of his entries (by no means off-putting to those of us who are not christian), the Labyrinth and its practices far outdate christianity and belongs to the indigenous earth-centric relationships that came before exploitation and control.
The Labyrinth represents renewal, life's journey, facing your inner evil, and about how the journey back from the center is equally as important as the journey to the center.
This is a magical book that will have you looking at your life differently - with far less judgement, so much more compassion, and so much more laughter. You are always right where you were supposed to be.
This slender little book is about the author’s attempt to have the reader consider a Labyrinth as not just a circular path of many turns to the center, but as a metaphor for life. I found it very fascinating, as I enjoy labyrinths myself.
In the first third of the book the author and his wife, being between jobs, put their furniture in storage and leave their native Innsbruck, Austria in a travel trailer and with their two year old daughter in search of labyrinths in Western Europe. In the second third, he goes to see labyrinths while considering designing one, and in the third half, he sees more labyrinths while constructing a couple of temporary labyrinths in Innsbruck using candles to mark the paths.
Each very short chapter is headed by a sketch of a labyrinth and an affirmative saying from the author; the chapter detail the author’s goal of defining life as a labyrinth. To him, life is not a maze, where there are many wrong possible turnings and an uncertainty of success; rather, it is a single path, albeit with many turnings towards and away from the center until one finally reaches the center. Once at the center, one follows a single path, again with turnings, to exit that particular labyrinth; and when one exits, or feels that one has exited, a labyrinth, one essentially enters another one. The basic question posed by a labyrinth is, “Do you stop here, or do you move on?”
With thirty-eight chapters, there are a lot of affirmational sayings; my favorite is “If life is viewed as a maze, every mistake is an unnecessary detour and a waste of time. If life is a labyrinth, then every mistake is a part of the path and an indispensable master teacher.” And later this week, I will go visit the only nearby labyrinth I know, in Grand Coteau; and that, I think, is a measure of how much I enjoyed this book.
Not quite what I was expecting. I was looking for a history of labyrinths; though it contains some history, this book is more of a collection of sketches of one man's spiritual journey to the labyrinths of Europe. His messages are inspiring, but it left me wanting something more.