Labyrinths: Solace for the Soul

David-Anthony Curtis of Phippsburg likes to think of the labyrinth as a metaphor for life’s journey.

However, when the twists and turns of fate led him to Maine from Miami, in June 2001, he had no idea that his journey would also lead him to help institute a renaissance of labyrinths in the mid-coast Maine area. In the last four years, he has helped design and build four labyrinths in this area, with more on the drawing board for the future.

It wasn’t until after the events of Sept.11, 2001, that he seriously considered the possibility that his land in Phippsburg was large enough for a labyrinth.

A walking labyrinth usually measures from thirty to fifty feet in diameter and consists of a series of single concentric lines—usually circles, but sometimes squares—that always lead to the center and then back out again. Unlike a maze, it has no dead ends or false pathways.

“At that time, I was overwhelmed and reeling with the grief of the 9/11 tragedy,” said Curtis, now thirty-two.

While working in the woods, he noticed how the wind seemed to whisper in the pines and the way sunlight peeked through branches and gave the ground a golden glow. “The land is very beautiful here,” he said, “and it almost seemed that this land was waiting for something special like a labyrinth.”

After measuring carefully, Curtis decided that the land was the right size for the space needed. His decision to build a labyrinth was, in part, linked to watching scenes on television of people in New York City on September 11th. “As ashes were falling from the sky,” he said, “people were clearing them to walk the outdoor labyrinth at Trinity Episcopal Church.”

Walking a labyrinth has long been considered a source of solace, but its origins remain a mystery. Although prehistoric labyrinth petroglyphs, or etchings on rock, have been found along the coastline of northwestern Spain and northern Italy, it remains hard to pinpoint their date or purpose.

The earliest known example of an authentically dated labyrinth is on an inscribed clay tablet which was preserved by fire, from1200 B.C., in a palace in southern Greece, according to Jeff Saward, labyrinth scholar and author of Labyrinths & Mazes: A Complete Guide to Magical Paths of the World.