The Labyrinth and the Sea I have always been charmed by the sea. The ever-changing colors, the invigorating smell, the taste of the salty spray in stormy weather. And most of all, the movement of the water, both waves and tide. As most children do, I played at the seaside and built dams and canals to try to force the water my way.
I still build dams and canals at the seaside. But when I give them the shape of a labyrinth, it becomes a different story. I like outdoor labyrinths best. When properly designed and situated, they enhance the natural beauty of the earth, like ornaments can beautify the human body.
Positioned between heaven and earth, they feel like a focusing device: When we walk the labyrinth, we become more aware of our interaction with life below, above and around us. We connect what is inside and outside us and our heart is nourished. We only need to choose to enter the labyrinth. It is nice to draw a labyrinth on the beach in the wet sand with a stick. The drawing itself is like a dance, gracious arcs which build up to a pattern. People walking by get curious and before long children are running the path and find out their own games with the lines on the sand. A small community is formed, an experience shared. The tide passes and the pattern is washed away, leaving a clean drawing board to start anew. I only need to choose to draw the labyrinth. |  | Some four years ago Jim Buchanan created a sand labyrinth at Irvine Beach, Scotland, with the aid of many volunteers. The photo’s and story of the sand digging and the tide coming in and moving out were enchanting. So my wife and I started organizing our own labyrinth digging events at the seaside.
This year, at Ascension Day, was the third time, again different from the earlier ones, but similar in the created feeling of belonging, beauty and big fun. The day is picked because of the favorable moment of high tide, around the end of the afternoon at that location. But where is the appropriate spot on the beach?
I investigate two days earlier with my dowsing rods. They clearly indicate a specific location on a sandbar, which will be flooded when the tide rises.
Although I think a different spot would be more suited, I trust my rods and draw some circles around the center. When the water rises, the rods prove to be right: They indicated exactly the highest spot on the sandbar! This is the first time we have made it a public event, instead of only on invitation.
How many people will be willing to come with their own spades and do some heavy digging for two hours to create something that will be washed away an hour later? voor vervolg, zie pdf-bestand |
