It was slightly irreverent but I snapped the picture of bird poop on the labyrinth sign anyway because it fit my mood — because it seemed to symbolize my own path, my own crooked maze through life.
Oh, there wasn’t a big catastrophe going on, just my own smelly thinking that needed to be cleaned away that day. I had hoped time in the beauty of Tinker Nature Park would settle my soul a bit, so I walked by summer’s blooms, stopped to say thanks to the buzzing bee hives and meandered over to the labyrinth, still thinking pretty poorly of myself and my accomplishments when I saw the pooped-on sign.
I laughed out loud and wished my husband was a little closer so I could wave him over and share the joke. Instead, I snapped a picture and took a few steps into the labyrinth to read a brick at one of the curves. REVERENT, it said. Then, I noticed another said HELPFUL.
LOYAL and FRIENDLY came at other corners.
Interesting, I thought. Every time the path changed direction, there was a chance to focus on something useful, something that mattered to ourselves and others.
In my life, I often approach changes in plans with FEAR, with NEGATIVITY and ANXIETY.
But the labyrinth reminded me there are other options, even when there’s poop on the sign.
What markers — what words — are at your corners? What do you turn toward?