The Transmutation Labyrinth

Oct 2

Throughout the years, I’ve had a growing curiosity towards labyrinths.

I found myself drawn to them in my life and my travels, not sure why, but they seemed to pull me in. They’re interesting, peaceful, and intriguing, and I started to find a lot of inspiration and meaning in them for myself as I’ve moved along my own personal journey.

Little did I know that fate would bring me the opportunity to build one for myself and the guests at The Horse Shoe Farm.

In April 2018, while we were preparing the farm to open to guests, there were these huge brick pavers stacked in circles, scattered all around the land as planters. They had been abandoned with the previous owners and honestly felt quite… dated. We proceeded to disassemble them and pile the bricks up in a mound for some future, hidden use.

Well… that mound soon became a MASSIVE mound - a HEAVY mound. With each brick weighing around 25 lbs. a piece, the daunting task of ever moving that pile was staring us all in the face.

Coincidentally, while this was all happening, I had casually been pondering the idea of putting a labyrinth on the farm (one day in the far & distant future that is).

I was in a random “creative dump” conversation with my Dad talking about this interest, when he suggested I take all the bricks and use them to build my long dreamed about labyrinth.

Naturally, I found the suggestion to be ridiculous. The labyrinths I had been to in the past were mathematical works of precision. How could I possibly achieve that with a material and designer (me) that was freeform (literally and figuratively). This labyrinth that I had been pondering was going to be designed by an expert (I’m sure they exist) or be an exact replica of one of the famous labyrinths of the world.

HA…

Johnny T is a great master at sparking creation and in an unexpected opening with boredom, I decided to play. I put my hand to paper and almost instantaneously this design popped right out. I’m pretty sure it drew itself, because I don’t draw and never have. But there it was. Intrigued, I started to consider the possibility of actually building it.

The next day, I walked over to the south side of The Magnolia Manor and comically started to measure and lay out the design on the ground. Time kind of jumped from there and before I knew it, I was carrying over bricks and laying them on the ground.

I started in the middle with the idea to build it from the inside out. I went back and forth to the pile a couple dozen times and quickly realized… that this was the stupidest idea I had ever come up with. Not only were the bricks incredibly heavy, but the way they were coming together imperfectly was irking the “you know what” out of perfectionist side of myself.

There was no precision in this, and no way it could ever be a labyrinth.

I was done. I started to walk away.

And that’s when it got weird.

Four geese flew in and landed in the field where I was building it. They started honking, loudly and obnoxiously at me. It was quite bizarre, and I was taken aback. I stopped walking and they stopped honking. I shrugged it off and started to walk again and they started right back at it.

It became this strange little tug-o-war type of dance, that crescendoed into a full blown conversation mostly with myself, a plea for help, and an agreement that they would stay around and offer morale support and help to see this construction through. (Yes, I love talking to animals, and yes, the mind is a funny place.)

Sidebar - From this moment on, I have considered the geese on the farm our guides in 3D form. The growing population of them over the last five years only reinforces the fact to me that our guides are all around us all the time, ready and willing to encourage and help, all we need to do is ask. Because they show up and their blessings have a compounding effect.

I started building it again. Carrying, laying, carrying, laying, brick by brick and the geese never left. There were there in the morning till I finished and left in the evening. And again, on the second day. It was amazing and inspirational.

And then to top it off, they (or my dad) sent these 3 magical, wonderful beings that second day that helped me carry the bricks over to the site, so that I could place them. Shockingly, at the end of that second day, I was about 90% complete with my design.

The next morning, as I was rounding the last bend in my design on the ground, I realized that I wasn’t going to have enough bricks to complete the last full stretch on my blue print.

I decided to stop working from the inside out and see if I could connect it by working from the outside in.

As I made my way closer to the two paths meeting, trying to gauge my material stockpile in accordance with my desired plan, I became aware that my resources were running dangerously low… so low that it seemed like there would not be enough bricks to connect the pathway.

When I tell you that it came together in the middle with the last brick from the pile, literally locking itself together in completion as if it was always meant to be,

it blew my mind. 🤯

I was flabbergasted, exhausted, and utterly confused. I had just built this massively heavy and huge “thing” in around 3 days. Geese honked at me, my design actually worked out, and I had just enough material to finish it, with nothing to spare. I was spellbound and confused.

I walked down to The Willow Pond to reflect on this strange endeavor, unclear as to WHAT I built and WHY… WHEN a snake emerged from the water and started to swim across the pond.

I couldn’t believe my eyes…

But then it ALL made sense.

Snakes represent transmutation. We needed to set our energy on the farm. We were changing its use and opening it up in a big way. We needed to give ourselves over to the land and create a place for the energy to move. To keep it flowing and evolving. This labyrinth, with its crazy curves and unconventional design is completely serpentine. It’s a journey and pathway for transmutation.

Mother Nature always delivers, and she did in big way up on that hill… for us all.

A few of the unfolding & unexpected hidden gems of the labyrinth that we’ve discovered over the last 5 years…

The center seems to align perfectly with the East and West, so it’s the best place to catch the sunrise and sunset.
It has the best view on the farm… seriously.
There are 7 large trees (pillars) that block it from the road, which a Reiki Master would comment to my Dad shortly after its completion and without every stepping foot on the farm, saying essentially that “some large energy shift has taken place on the land, just behind 7 large pillars as you enter the farm.”
A dowser has identified that area as a large vortex, one of 5 at that time on the property.

For me personally, building the labyrinth has been one of the greatest teachers I’ve ever had.

First, it taught me to listen…. Like really listen… and just take it one step at a time. Visualize the goal, but be open to what you might hear along the way, and be courageous enough to always pivot.

Second, it really reflected back my own ridiculous standard of perfection and pressure that society likes to tell us exists.

Ever heard of the Japanese concept of Wabi Sabi, or as I like to think of it as “the beauty of the perfectly imperfect”. For all my qualms and irrational desires about the precision and perfection of the labyrinth, my struggle with it was real.

Looking/walking/standing/experiencing this labyrinth on the farm only screams beauty and perfection to me… and by the standards I was initially going for in my mind, it’s far from it… but maybe that’s just a fathers love ❤️