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We have recently celebrated our daughter's first birthday. When our son was one, over four years ago now, we wanted to celebrate his first year with us; to acknowledge that we had all survived that year and had become a family. We also wanted to do it formally in front of friends and family. We wanted to acknowledge some of what we'd been through, what he meant to us, to commit ourselves to him and declare our beliefs about how we wanted to parent him. To this end we had a big party in a hotel with friends and family and food. We talked about his birth, his first year and how we wanted him to grow, to be himself. I had written a poem which David read out, and friends read from The Prophet (Kahil Gibran) and the poem about "If a child lives with criticism, etc...". We had a book of photos of his first year for people to look at and a book for them to write in anything they may want to say to him. We also asked them to bring some tulip bulbs so that we could plant them and remember his birthday each time they bloomed. It was a great day. We really enjoyed ourselves and were glad to have done it, for ourselves and for him.
And so, as our daughter's first birthday drew nearer we knew we wanted to celebrate this milestone again. But we have changed, our family has changed and our celebration needed to change. Since our son's birthday we have joined NNN, found other people with similar beliefs, been on four camps, been exposed to a whole world of new experiences. One of the things we'd done at the NNN camp in Wales last year, on Midsummer night's eve, was to walk a labyrinth that Sarah had organised.
A labyrinth is what some people also call a maze, but it has just one path in. It is unicursal. This means that you can disconnect the thinking part of your brain and simply follow the path to the centre, trusting that although the route may seem to be circuitous, although you may seem to be nearly there and then suddenly nowhere near, that you will get there, that the path will lead you to where you want to go. To the centre, to your centre!
I had never really come across the labyrinth before, or the idea of walking them, although having said that, the labyrinth design is one that we will probably all recognise. However, I found walking the one in Wales very powerful and meaningful. I also spoke with Sarah about a celebration she had undertaken, involving walking a labyrinth with her eldest daughter Anna, as a ritual celebration. They had used it as a way of acknowledging their separation as Anna left childhood and reached womanhood. I was very moved by Sarah and Anna's ritual and felt that it was something I would like to do with my children, to ritualistically acknowledge them becoming adults and our relationship changing. Knowing that I wanted to do this in I7 years time with my daughter began me thinking about what I would like to do, involving a ritual and a labyrinth, at this stage of her life. After much thought what we decided to do was to walk a labyrinth with her.
We performed the ritual in the garden of the friends who had been present at our daughter's birth. I drew the labyrinth on the lawn using sand. Beforehand, we had decided that we wanted the centre of the labyrinth to represent the heart of our family, and so my husband walked into the centre first, taking with him a lighted lantern which he placed there. He then walked out and collected me and we walked back to the centre together. He then repeated this twice, first getting our son and bringing him to the heart of our family and then collecting our daughter. We then read a poem to her and our friends each walked into the centre of the labyrinth to give her their gifts and their love. And then we walked out together.
We also had bubbles being blown, rattles being shaken and children running around. The labyrinth wasn't very big, no more than four or five feet across, the ritual didn't take very long, the children ran around shouting and our son bossed us around taking photos. But somehow, having learnt about labyrinths, drawn one on the ground and walked one together, I have learned a lot for myself and about myself. About how much more confident I am that we are parenting in a way that is OK for us and our children, about how I am happy to have two children, about how I love having a daughter, about how I love my little girl and my own internal little girl, about how important spirit and nature and love are to me. And I feel that we honoured our daughter's life and her place in our life.
The poem we read to her was one that was written for our son's first birthday by a friend and she quotes a Buddhist text at the beginning "When a child's life is honoured, light shines upon his journey" that's what I mean. The poem is lovely too, very powerful, and I thank our friend for writing it for him.
For J.
The bright stars are shining
The earth's heart is beating
We have made a place for you
We will shelter you
From strong winds
From stormy seas
We will protect you
Before and behind you
Above and below you
We will be with you
And we will let you go
When you learn to run
A wish for your Iife
Strong as the wind
Warm as the sun
Deep as the sea
May you grow in kindness
May you grow in wisdom
May you be happy
May you be free