I struggled to find the right words. “You made this? By yourselves?”
“Yes, us and a bunch of other people, yesterday and today. We finished it just before you got here!”
“But how did you ever lay this out so perfectly? It’s beautiful!”
It was then that I was introduced to Heather Ruggero, a landscape architect who designed the labyrinth and explained the process for executing the design.
And then all of us walked the labyrinth together.
When you get to the center, you stop, close your eyes, take some time to breathe, and then turn and walk back out. It is an extraordinary experience.
I know that the folks who organized and executed this project pushed hard to complete it before my tenure as CBI’s Senior Rabbi comes to a close at the end of June. They wanted all of us to be able to experience and benefit from the meditation path as soon as possible.
But it occurred to me a couple of days ago that the timing of its completion is significant for another reason. Right now, we find ourselves smack in the middle of a series of five Torah portions that will bring the book of Exodus to its conclusion. These five Torah proportions have one overriding theme: the people are to come together, all whose hearts are so moved, donating their time, energy, materials and artistic expertise to build the Mishkan, the portable shrine that the Israelites will carry with them through the wilderness. As one participant at a Shabbat morning to study session many years ago reflected on this part of the Torah, “I think the text is not so much about the Mishkan itself, but about the way that building the Mishkan unifies and strengthens the community that does the work.”
Truly, the meditation path is not defined by its beauty and simplicity, but rather by the heartfelt efforts of all who gave of themselves to create it.
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