"It gives me goose bumps," she says of the experience that spurred her labyrinth fascination seven years ago. "And it's never happened again."
Horn, a sprightly labyrinth enthusiast who walks these winding and twisting paths as a way to meditate, is part of a modern resurgence of people spellbound by the 5,000-year-old practice. Not only are labyrinths now springing up on front lawns, the designs are the subject of a global celebration (the first Saturday in May is World Labyrinth Day). You can even become a trained labyrinth facilitator through Veriditas, a California-based organization that promotes them.
Here in Philadelphia, the Church of the Holy Trinity in Rittenhouse Square held its first labyrinth workshop in October with a hearty mix of enthusiasts, including Horn, and first-timers.
"It was a really encouraging beginning," said Diana Carroll, 28, rector of the church. "It seemed that everyone got something out of the workshop."
Unlike a maze, which includes dead ends and tall walls that are meant to confuse, a labyrinth traces a single path that leads inexorably to the center. It has ancient roots in pagan pre-Christian beliefs, Celtic traditions, and even Wicca, and many consider it a spiritual journey to walk one.
At churches and cathedrals, labyrinths were used by monks to practice a physical kind of prayer, said James F. Caccamo, an associate professor of theology at St. Joseph's University. It may be our current lifestyles' lack of activity, he said, that draws us to labyrinths now.
"We read books, watch television, surf the Web. It doesn't always engage the body," said Caccamo, 42. Walking a labyrinth is "a response to the way our culture has been moving away from the physical to the more virtual."
