maze or labyrinth?
choose your adventure
In one of my recovery groups, we have a little cliché we like to toss around when things get hard: “life is getting life-ey.”
It’s midterm season here, and while the days are growing shorter, the to-do list only keeps getting longer. Whether it's the avalanche of marking four sections' worth of midterms or assignments, writing my dissertation, parenting a teen, worrying about upcoming election results, or even just doing chores like the dishes, life tends to accumulate all over me. If I’m not careful, it can quickly feel overwhelming.
Much of the work I’ve been doing on myself this past year has focused on being more aware of my mindset. The older I become, the more I recognize how little I can control; I can, however, work to better control how I feel about the current state of my life-ey-ness.
Yesterday I stumbled upon a blog post that was written by a Usask friend, and one of her observations resonated with me. Her post outlines the process of creating a meditative labyrinth on her farm, and she explains the differences between a maze and a labyrinth. Of course, my dissertation-writing mind went straight to mindset.
Here’s what she wrote:
The distinction above between a maze and a labyrinth is perhaps trite, I know. Yet, it’s more or less true. Though the two words have been used interchangeably, in our modern understanding, maze and labyrinth have diverged. I’ll explain:
A maze — such as a classic fall corn maze, or the maze in the dystopian novel The Maze Runner by James Dashner — has multiple twisting paths, blind corners, dead ends, and drives confusion, bafflement, even fear. It’s certainly what housed the Minotaur in Greek myth — a place of terror with a monster lurking. A maze’s power lies in its unknowability, trickery, deception and chaos. Those caught within it are shaped through a battle of wits against the maze, trying to find a way out, or at least through, safely.
A labyrinth draws its power from order, the opposite of chaos. No matter how many twists and turns, a labyrinth has a single path. There is no way to make a wrong turn, twisty and complex as the path might be. There is only one path to the centre, and one path back out again. Those who find themselves in a labyrinth are not matching wits against the path. If anything, they are in a battle of wits against themselves. A labyrinth invites you to find trust, to find grit and keep going, to find balance and harmony, to let the path unfold and carry you forward.
My PhD research focuses on understanding the hierarchies and dysfunctions that plague higher educational institutions. I aim not only to highlight these flaws and frustrations, but I hope to also provide better ways to navigate them.
Although it may seem tempting (and easier) to complain about the challenges encountered in higher ed, I know that the approach will only keep me stuck. I have now been a faculty member at Usask for almost 20 years, and I see how tempting it is to focus on how broken things are today. Instead, I am making a choice to no longer remain trapped in a maze of resentment and complaint.
By reframing my challenges more as a labyrinth, I feel more in control, transforming my academic struggles into a journey rather than a burden.
I recognize that while some days in my job will feel maze-ey, it’s ultimately up to me to mindset-shift my way out of that funk.
And the best part? If I’ve got Labyrinth on my mind, I can always look to a Bowie for little inspiration.
Choose your adventure.
Things that brought me joy this week:
We got vaccines! Thanks, science. It wasn’t the Dolly, but it’ll do.
It’s been a beautiful fall so far this year, though I think this may be the week my red-leaf’d tree loses all her leafy beauty. We have so much golden yellows on our street, but I think my red leaves are the prettiest litter around.
Emma had her educational assessment this week! It’s been a long time coming, since we were hung up in the courts for so long. My budding psychologist teen nerded out while being tested for her strengths and areas of weaknesses. Hopefully this week we will get the results, so we can start problem-solving in time for university.
Speaking of the girl, she’s determined to get her license and get a car. 😱
I finally hung up my Palestinian flag stitching! My heart breaks for everyone in Gaza, and now I can think of them every time I see this.
I’m reading a book that I don’t want to end — these are my favourite kinds of reading experiences! Any book that causes preemptive grief is one I want to remember. The book in question is Beautyland by Marie-Helene Bertino, and it’s all about an alien who grows up on Earth — and all of her observations and takeaways on human life. If you’ve ever felt out of place, this is a book you’ll want to read. It’s a neurodiverse delight to read, balancing a paradox of happy and sad takeaways. I’m going to try to not devour the last few pages later today, because I know I will miss Adina’s voice and keen eye. Read it! …but you don’t have to take my word for it.
Court: the MEO application has been sent, and now we wait. Emma feels freer than I’ve seen her, which makes all this hassle worth it.
PhDing: I’ve almost got my chapter on participants’ introductions done! This week’s goal is to finish chapter 2, and then rework my original proposal to have it make sense for chapter 1. Then, I’m off to writing about mindset and the dreaded drama triangle for chapter 3. Am I actually doing this?
Watching: Anatomy of Lies — what a ride! Reading: Beautyland by Marie-Helene Bertino. Listening: to Scott Moe’s desperation
Meme of the week:
Minding the mindset is no easy task