The Magic of Labyrinths: Following Your Path, Finding Your Center. Liz Simpson
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Название: The Magic of Labyrinths: Following Your Path, Finding Your Center

Автор: Liz Simpson

Издательство: HarperCollins

Жанр: Религия: прочее

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isbn: 9780007502097

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СКАЧАТЬ number of people with both the creativity to understand the impact of a new idea and the personal magnetism or charisma with which to promote it. Such people in early times were called “shamans.” Shamanism, said to be the world’s oldest religion, spiritual discipline and medical approach, originated in Siberia – and it was here that a labyrinth carving was found, dating back over 7,000 years. The shaman worldview offers an experiential path to knowledge, gained through the process of ritual, meditation and a concept of trials or tests that is akin to the Hero’s journey through the labyrinth (see chapter 3). Like the labyrinth, while variations exist between cultures, the concept of shamanism is very similar whether in the Americas, Africa, and Australasia or Lapland, Malaysia, and Peru.

      The shaman’s role within a society was to straddle the world of reality and the world of spirit. As such they demonstrated that all-important psychological need which is now being explored more actively through environmental and spiritual groups – that of the interdependence and unity of nature and humankind. Interestingly, the shaman did not simply represent the Divine, as priests and other religious figures do. The shaman is Divine, in the way that we have been urged to think of ourselves by many prophets and philosophers, such as the fourteenth-century Christian mystic, Meister Eckhart, who said:

       Here, in my own soul, the greatest of all miracles has taken place. God has returned to God.

      In the same way that the simple act of walking or tracing a labyrinth can unite body and spirit, the shaman demonstrated the spiritual affinity between plant, person, and place.

      

      Malcolm Gladwell’s second criterion explaining why certain concepts can spread rapidly across societies is that of “stickiness.” By this he means the extent to which a message is memorable and impactful. Since Jung, together with Eastern mystics before him, have presented the image of life as a journey with a single pathway leading in to the center, it is not surprising that the labyrinth motif would have appealed to anyone who came into contact with it.

      

      Given the potential of the labyrinth as a way of explaining the world and how we should best act on it, it can be imagined that one or a number of Siberian shamans found that this particular tool – a portable “mental map,” simple to construct and easy to explain – helped them disseminate their worldview to other cultures. This may have happened in the same way that the “peace symbol,” the original concept of one man, spread from being used in materials and on marches by the UK’s Campaign for Nuclear Disarmament, to being a worldwide icon of peace. Being simple to produce and an image that resonated with billions of people around the globe, the peace symbol – like, possibly, the labyrinth – was one person’s idea that “stuck.” It was a local idea that fast became a global phenomenon.

      

      The third criterion is “the power of context.” Here again, we can relate back to Jung’s hypothesis for the universal power of archetype and myth. The notion of something so simple yet complex as a labyrinth is as compelling to us in the twenty-first century as it was to our earliest ancestors. There is no reason to suggest that they would not have been concerned with the same big, philosophical questions that we still grapple with today – Why are we here? What is the purpose of our lives? What happens when we die? Like us, they would have wanted to better understand life and the purpose of it – and, in particular, how to feel happier and more fulfilled on this lifelong journey.

      

      The psychologist, Abraham Maslow, formulated a hierarchy of needs in which security issues (such as the provision of shelter and food) are at the base of the triangle, with self-actualization (spiritual needs) at the pinnacle. However, this seems to over-simplify the human experience and before Maslow died he admitted that he might have got this the wrong way around. Just because prehistoric people had more pressing security concerns than most of us in the West today, that does not mean that they did not also seek deeper meaning and purpose in their lives.

      

      The manner in which our ancestors explored these issues was through myths and there is considerable similarity in these stories, regardless of the culture. Indeed, rather than accepting that religious writers accessed the power of the collective unconscious, it may be that they borrowed and modified much earlier stories for which the power of context was universal. For instance, there is considerable similarity between archetypes appearing in the Assyro-Babylonian poem the Epic of Gilgamesh (c. 700B.C.) and the Old Testament of the Bible. Both feature a serpent, a woman who robs a hero of his innocence, and someone who survives a Great Flood.

      LABYRINTHS AND MYTH

      The labyrinth has long been associated with myths and legends, the most direct link being with the story of Theseus and the Minotaur (see here). But why should we be interested in centuries-old accounts of the exploits of fictional gods, goddesses and heroes? More particularly, why would they hold any relevance to us today?

      Mythology is populated by archetypal characters who illustrate universal dispositions with which each one of us can relate at various times in our lives. Despite the culture or period in which these mythological tales were written, each one of us recognizes in them universal values around being and behaving. Within an oral tradition, myths ensured the values of a culture were broadcast from generation to generation. They also helped explain fundamental but complex philosophical issues in a way that was more palatable and easily understood – through stories about the adventures and lives of gods and heroes.

      

      For example, no concept intrigues, terrifies, and holds us in awe more than death. Death has been the subject of introspection and debate since the earliest times when bodies, whether of Egyptian pharaohs or Neanderthal nomads, were buried with everything they might need for their next journey, into the “land beyond.” We are fascinated by death from an early age when we ask, unsuccessfully, for confirmation of exactly what happens to us. I remember an occasion when we buried a goldfish in the back garden and my small son pressed me to tell him where it would go. Thinking I was being suitably spiritual in my instruction, I assured Graeme that the goldfish would go to heaven to be with God, only to find my son digging up the area the next day to check whether the fish had got there yet.

      The labyrinth is typically associated with dark caves, the inner workings of our subconscious and the way in which we must constantly review our attitudes and behaviors so that we “kill off” any that are no longer useful to us in order to resurrect or discover ones that are. Not surprisingly, the labyrinth motif has been woven into a number of myths concerning death. Such myths also elaborate on the key role of women in the human experience. For example, Joseph Campbell relates the myth of the Malekula islanders in Vanuatu (formerly the New Hebrides) in the South Pacific who learn that their approach to the Land of the Dead will be halted by a female guardian. She draws a labyrinth design in the earth, then erases half of it and the soul’s task is to complete the design perfectly before they will be allowed to pass through to the underworld. If they do not, then they will be eaten by her.

      

      Unlike mazes with their dead ends, labyrinths are reminiscent of coiled snakes. According to the Hindu tradition, Kundalini is the serpent goddess who awakens whenever an individual embarks upon a spiritual journey. As they proceed on their path, overcoming challenges in the way of the hero, Kundalini journeys upwards, piercing each chakra in turn until, reaching the crown chakra, the subject is said to have achieved spiritual enlightenment. (For more on this, see here.)

      Snake-like СКАЧАТЬ