Carving A Path Through Thresholds

We have a Maya Angelou quote on the wall where I work, which reads:

“There is no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside you.”

Over the past weeks, I have been navigating the build up to the point where my friend Steve will have been gone for longer than I knew him.

That point arrived on Wednesday, with the anniversary of me more or less bumping into the news of his death on Instagram.

I made my way through the build up with the help of my new collage practice. The pieces are too raw to share, but it’s one way of letting the harsh truth exist somewhere that isn’t rattling around my head, taking up so much room.

When I stumbled upon a workshop about making your own finger labyrinth, I felt as though I had struck gold.

I have long held a wish to walk one, but “accessible labyrinth” is a bit of an oxymoron.

The organisers promised a recording, much to my relief as they scheduled the live session for 1:00am my time. I was disappointed to learn that this fell through as I was the only person registered.

In the midst of my dismay, I remembered an old blog post by Heather Plett in which she described the process she followed in making her own finger labyrinth.

Cancelled workshop printout in hand, I used her instructions to finish the process. Slowing down enough to manipulate the string and watch it take shape was a deeply powerful practice. As a child, I rarely played with clay or glue, preferring to keep myself tidy. Mess with a purpose is different.

I now have a labyrinth that I can use at any point...a powerful grief gift to myself as I continue to figure out what my connection with Steve feels like five years on from the hardest days.

Have you ever made anything to help you in grief? I’d love to hear about it.