Thankfully, the night before we began building, Hedy gave us some exercises to perform as a group for exploring a sense of trust. We stood in two lines, facing one another, forming a narrow corridor. Then, in turn, the person at the end of each line closed their eyes and was guided by gentle hands between the bodies (like peristalsis) as each person whispered something encouraging to the person being carried along.

It was like experiencing a rebirth, though less traumatic than a real birth, we imagined what it would mean if we were all brought into the world this way. For most, this was a very emotional activity, particularly hearing voices in your ear saying “we’re so glad you are here”, “it is safe to let go” and “you look like an angel”. Tiny, intimate gestures can disarm us very quickly and more than a couple of us were teary.

The following morning as the sound of cicadas filled the valley of the Leura Brahma Kumaris Centre, we wandered up the road to a space of land that had been chosen and cleared as the site for our permanent Labyrinth. We then received a traditional welcome to land from a local Indigenous elder, Lynn Strangewho also laid the first of the rocks at the heart of the Labyrinth.

Again, we worked in silence. A truckload of tumbled river stones from a local quarry had been delivered earlier in the week and sat waiting for us beneath a tree. We were asked to choose mindfully, the size, the shape, the texture, noting what it was that we were attracted to or repulsed by, and to imagine that each stone we picked would hold a particular intent for a person or situation.

The next decision was where on the path we would lay our stone. Would it be conspicuous? Somewhere more isolated? Propped up by a larger or smaller rock? Hiding beneath some native grass? Balanced on top of some other rocks? Where, metaphorically, would each rock stand in relation to the rest of the community of rocks? It may sound absurd, but on a subconscious level this symbolic activity was having profound effects.

 It was heavy work, meaningful work, and still we were able to observe the mystery of the Labyrinth’s gradual unfolding. By following the seed design it was simple enough to work without the need for sound.

Cairns also began to form, small rock towers reminiscent of ancient cultures, memorial statues, some like rock people or guardians along the way. It was so much different from angels and fairies and ribbons. Working in this way was so rich and old in its implication. Our hands dried, from working with rougher surfaces, muscles worked to carry rocks around, it was notably physical and we were glad for shaded rest periods from the midday heat, though it could not have been built in a more appropriate way.

The temporary Labyrinth was built in an English garden full of bright colours, soft grass and dampness, this was arid and heavy with muted tones. It was part of the landscape and at times looked like a great coiled serpent waiting to slide into the bush…

By night, as the surrounding area darkened, the river rocks became more defined. Their paleness against the shadow of the bush made them seem luminous and alive. It was more pleasurable to walk this way in the cool and stillness, though during the day when the air was a wall of white noise filled with cicada song, it was easier walking bare feet with the pathway being an assortment of textures.

The need for quiet and recovery was greater with the stone Labyrinth. Perhaps knowing that each stone would remain as a testament to the things that mattered to us at that point in time, made participants think more carefully about what they would add to the Labyrinth’s narrative. Would the same issues carry such weighting next visit? Would this inspire us to remove some rocks and bring new ones from our personal lives, to replace what was outworn?

I approached this Path with some reverence as it clarified the transient nature of all our ‘issues’. Where we make decisions that have permanent and long-lasting effects, it is worth spending some time in the natural world. Cicadas prevent heavy thinking. Physical labour informs us of our limitations.