The Labyrinth

Growing a lawn, as opposed to isolated clumps of grass, is a problem on a sand bar, which is a good description of outer Cape Cod, where I live.

After years of trying without success, this Spring my husband announced that he was giving up, and he was going to put down mulch because he was sick of mowing dirt.

I have a strong preference for the natural look, so I balked at the idea of covering what little green we have with brown—or worse yet, red—mulch.

We compromised on ground cover and shrubs in the front, but what to do on side of the house remained unsettled until I had a wild idea in the middle of the night—we could build a labyrinth.

A labyrinth is an ancient symbol for wholeness. It combines the circle and the spiral into a meandering but purposeful path representing a journey to one’s own center and back again into the world.

By surrounding himself with like-minded people, he has made the work of creating work for himself enjoyable rather than burdensome.

I first experienced a labyrinth on vacation some years ago in Lewes, Delaware. Across the street from the inn where we were staying there was an old church with what looked at first to me like a circle of weather-worn headstones. When I went to explore it, I discovered a twisting and turning path leading to the center of the circle and back out by the same route.

I walked it without really knowing what I was doing, yet I felt there was something valuable in the experience.

When I began to think about my own labyrinth, I went first to the Internet where I found images, designs, instructions, and stories about how other people had organized and executed a labyrinth building project. There was a lot of information which guided our process and helped us maneuver around obstacles.

As I shared my idea with others, more resources surfaced, including a book a friend had purchased as a tool to educate children about labyrinths which proved to be very helpful.

There were times, however, when people thought we were crazy.

I’m sure the young man who waited on us at the garden center when we were trying to decide what to fill the pathways with, pebbles, stone dust, or shells, by listening to what it sounded like to walk on each, is still telling his fellow employees about that weird couple who wanted to build a path that went in circles!

And the stonemason who watched us sit on various rocks with our legs crossed until we finally selected a piece of red Pennsylvania fieldstone to use as a meditation seat in the center of the labyrinth is probably still shaking his head.

One of the sites I checked pointed out that laying the stones for even a modest labyrinth (ours has half the complexity of the labyrinth at Chartres Cathedral and required well over five-hundred stones) can be a major task, so after the large pallet of rocks arrived, my husband and I invited friends to come and help us put them down to mark the borders of the paths (see photos here—and thanks to our friend Gwynne Guzzeau for the slideshow). What would have taken us hours was accomplished in less than forty-five minutes, and the work was both fun and mutually enriching.

What has this to do with career, you ask?

The three basic steps we followed to make it happen apply equally well to work search.

1. Seek out an innovative solution.
2. Use information-gathering to help refine your idea and plan a strategy.
3. Build a community to help you execute your plan.

Talented people with excellent employment records are having as much difficulty finding a job in fields which have dried up as my husband was trying to get grass to grow in sand.

One of my clients, a skilled technical writer, had to face the fact that, despite his best efforts at traditional job-search, nothing was taking root because there are far fewer jobs available and there is a glut of candidates vying for them.

He took the time to reflect on the breadth of his interests and experience using the model presented in What Color is Your Parachute? and supplemented it with exercises I recommend in my book.

He was able to identify a consistent theme, support for social causes, and began to use his research skills for himself to explore how his writing abilities might fit into the non-profit world.

Eventually he had an aha moment, like the one I had in the middle of the night when I thought of the labyrinth—he would try grant writing.

Once he had a clear vision of a solution in mind, he put a plan in place to learn as much as he could about grant writing, and he enlisted the help of his network community in making connections within organizations that support causes he feels passionate about.

By surrounding himself with like-minded people, he has made the work of creating work for himself enjoyable rather than burdensome.

He is now interning at both a large social service center and a small environmental advocacy organization and has been invited to participate with other staff in grant development training.

Just as we built our labyrinth one stone at a time, he is building credentials one grant at a time. “I feel really, really on track and in my authenticity,” he recently shared with me in an email. He’s walking his career labyrinth.