THE MEMOIR NOTES #17: When Two Paths Merge Into One
How Memoir Writing and Labyrinth Walking Became a Unified Path to Healing
Dear Friend,
When I first stepped onto the labyrinth’s winding path decades ago, I had no idea how central it would become to my spiritual life or how powerfully it would support my writing and healing.
Back then, it simply felt like an introduction to something new and interesting. A moving meditation. A way to quiet my racing thoughts by placing one foot in front of the other. But over time, the labyrinth became more than a peaceful practice. It evolved into a sacred container for inner work, a living metaphor for the twists and turns of my healing journey, and a bridge that led me deeper into the heart of the memoir I’m writing today.
In those early days, I walked the labyrinth on my birthdays, during travel adventures, and in quiet moments when I needed to slow down or reconnect with my spirit. I would return to it when facing a decision or wrestling with a concern. I didn’t know much about its history, and had never taken a workshop, but something in me responded to its quiet power.
Something shifted in 2021 when I committed to writing and healing my story.
Around the same time, my newfound spiritual community began plans to build a permanent labyrinth. Because I had experienced the gifts of walking the labyrinth and had a background in group facilitation, I was invited to train as a labyrinth facilitator. The timing felt divinely orchestrated.
As I stepped into the deep emotional terrain of memoir, facing old wounds with honesty and tenderness, I was also learning how to guide others through the physical and symbolic journey of the labyrinth. Before long, I realized these were not two separate practices. They were one path, leading to the heart of things.
The labyrinth offered a physical space to circle inward, to return again and again to what was unresolved, and to move through grief, clarity, resistance, and release. It held me as I walked with intention and listened for what was stirring beneath the surface. In time, I realized that writing was asking the same of me. To revisit my stories, to sit with what surfaced, and to meet old memories with fresh insight. I found I could step off the page and onto the path, or the other way around, and both would guide me back to myself.
Healing doesn’t unfold in a straight line. It moves in a spiral, drawing us toward the center, and then leading us back out again.
Writing a memoir feels much the same. I found myself returning to old memories again and again, but each time with a little more softness, a little more wisdom, a little more grace. The labyrinth mirrors this beautifully. Its winding path invites us to revisit familiar ground from a new perspective, each step deepening our connection to the Self.
As James Finley reminds us, “Repetition is not redundancy. Repetition is the way we learn to go deeper.”
Writing my story has required the same kind of trust the labyrinth asks of me. I rarely know where a memory will lead, just as I can’t predict what I’ll feel around each turn of the labyrinth path. But I keep showing up.
“The labyrinth is the map, but you are the territory.” -Lauren Artess
When I began facilitating labyrinth walks for others, I witnessed people soften, open, weep, or laugh in relief as they reconnected with themselves. I realized what I was offering wasn’t instruction. It was presence. And that shifted my writing, too. I stopped trying to control the story’s unfolding. I began to write not to explain, but to bear witness to the twists and turns of my pain, my resilience, and the quiet circle of love holding it all.
These days, I often find myself longing to share this beautiful overlap more intentionally. I want to invite others into the gentle, sacred rhythm of walking and writing as a path to healing.
I’m dreaming up a monthly online gathering that combines a finger labyrinth walk with a short writing session. If that sounds like something your soul is craving, I’d love to include you. Reply to this email or reach out here, and I’ll add you to the waitlist.
Together, we’ll follow the labyrinth rhythm of Remember, Release, Receive, and Return. Along the way, we’ll create space to meet ourselves and our stories- with compassion, clarity, and creativity.
xo Mary
3 THINGS WORTH SHARING:
Coming up: Walk For Peace on World Labyrinth Day. Find out more here and/or find a labyrinth event near you. If you are local to Northern Colorado, I love to see you at our event.
Want a great introduction? Read: Walking The Sacred Path by Rev. Dr. Lauren Artress.
A two minute introduction to the Labyrinth from Lauren Artress.
A portion of our paid subscriptions this month goes to: Guiding Connections.
A program of House of Neighborly Services and serves unhoused adult individuals in Loveland, Colorado. The program seeks to empower and support adult individuals that are experiencing homelessness and receive the life skill coaching that will help them move forward to a healthier future. Guiding Connections provides wellness, employment and shelter possibilities to those in the area. By partnering with Loveland SafeLot Parking, an organization that provides legal overnight parking for unhoused individuals in the area, Guiding Connections has been to host many families in the area and provide them with a safe, clean and legal place to stay.
© Mary Thoma 2025. All Rights Reserved
❤️ the spiral nature of healing and revisiting our stories 🌀