Walking It Out: My Healing Journey in the Labyrinth

I Didn’t Expect to Break Wide Open

I’ve done hard things.
Combat. Firefighting. Leading through chaos.
So walking a spiral on the ground didn’t exactly strike me as life-altering.

However, a significant shift occurred when I was at Warrior PATHH at Camp Southern Ground during our first walk through the labyrinth. They read a script beforehand that framed the walk in a way I’ll never forget. Although there was more, this is the gist:

“This is battle-hardened ground. When you walk into the labyrinth, pick up a stone and carry it with you. When you reach the center, place the stone on the ground and leave your worries there. The ground can take it.”

I remember the guidance clearly:
Receive the gifts of healing as you walk in,
Release what troubles you in the center,
Return with something new.

Receive. Release. Return. Got it.

As I stepped in, I picked up the two largest stones I could find—one for each of my Big T traumas: my father’s death and my moral injury in Iraq. They were heavy, but nothing compared to the weight I’d carried in my chest, mind, and soul for decades.

I cried on those stones. I poured flashbacks, guilt, pain, and rage into them with every step. When I reached the center—tears still running—I threw the stones down as hard as I could. They bounced. I stared at them. Wishing what I left in them would stay buried.

When everyone finished and we walked out, I was drained. But as I kept walking, I felt lighter.

Did this work?
There hadn’t been a single day since those events that I hadn’t thought about them.

Yes. It worked.

It wasn’t about words. It wasn’t intellectual.
It was somatic. Full body. Deep.
I wasn’t thinking. I was feeling. And for the first time in a long time—releasing.

What the Hell Is a Labyrinth, Anyway?

Let’s clear this up:

• A maze is designed to confuse.

• A labyrinth is a single winding path. No dead ends. No walls. No tricks. Just presence.

Labyrinths have existed for over 4,000 years, with traditions from various cultures, including Greek, Roman, Native American, Christian, Celtic, and Buddhist, utilizing them for reflection, prayer, and healing.

They’re not tied to any single religion. They serve as a human tool for meditative movement.

Why Labyrinths Matter in Healing

For trauma survivors—especially those with complex or prolonged trauma—sitting still to “process” can feel impossible.

A labyrinth offers something different:

• A safe container for movement

• Bilateral stimulation, similar to EMDR

• A path that mirrors the inner journey—winding, uncertain, but forward

• An embodied experience, not just a cognitive one

It allows the body to do the work that the mind can’t always access.

Want to Try It? Here's How

Use LabyrinthLocator.org to find one near you.
Look for “Chartres-style” or “Classical” layouts—both are ideal for this kind of work.

They’re found in churches, parks, hospitals, gardens, private land, and retreat centers. Most are free and open to the public.

A First-Timer’s Script: Walking the Labyrinth for Healing

Step 1: Before You Enter

• Stand at the entrance. Breathe.

• Place your hand on your chest if that feels grounding, or try a self-hug.

• Pick something to carry with you—stones, sticks, coins, a photo—anything you’re willing to leave behind.

Ask yourself:

What am I ready to release?
What am I afraid to feel?

Step 2: Walking In (The Descent)

Let go of needing answers.
Let whatever needs to rise, rise.

Repeat silently:

“I don’t have to carry this anymore.”

Step 3: The Center (Stillness)

Stand, sit, kneel—whatever feels right.
Feel the ground. Breathe. Pray if you want. Cry if you need. Meditate.

Say to yourself:

“I made it. I’m still here. I’m allowed to feel all of this. I am leaving it here.”

Step 4: Walking Out (The Return)

As you walk out, allow yourself to integrate what you have just experienced.

Repeat:

“I carry only what serves me now.”
“I return changed—even if no one else sees it yet.”

Final Thoughts

I’ve done therapy. Coaching. Breathwork. Alternative treatments.
They all helped.

But that walk met me where I couldn’t talk yet.
It cracked something open that words couldn’t reach.

If you’re on a healing journey and nothing seems to “get in”…
Try walking it out.

You don’t need to know what you’re releasing.
You just need to be willing to let it move through you.

Because what the mind avoids, the body remembers.
And what the body remembers… it can finally let go of.

Call to Action

Find a labyrinth. Take your story with you.
Walk it. Feel it. Lay it down.

Then come back.

Different. Lighter. Stronger.

We’re not meant to carry it forever.