Out of the Maze

We're back from Albuquerque and richer by one first-place ribbon and lots of good memories of both the tournament and the desert southwest. We escaped the pool complex on Saturday evening to go ride the Sandia Peak Tramway, which ascends 4,000 feet to get to the ultimate height of 10,000 feet high. Not quite a 14 'er but a lot closer than I expected! We hiked the trails at the top and were rewarded with great views of the city and of the widespread flat landscape of the Rio Grande Valley. On Sunday morning we had time before the championship game to visit the Petroglyph National Monument, where the figures and shapes are between 400 and 700 years old. They were fascinating and resolutely mysterious, leading to many questions of what the artists intended.

The petroglyphs reminded me of a sticker I have on the lower driver's side of my windshield. It's ironic that I don't notice it while driving around in the van, but remembered vividly while driving Rob's car this weekend. Familiarity breeds contempt, and all that. The sticker is of a figure outside of  a circular maze, with an imperfection or "resting place" near the center. I got it in Arizona, from a shop run by the Tohono O'odham people.They use this symbol to tell the legend of I'itoi the Creator God, who lives inside the labyrinth. As one of the legends has it, we wander through life in pursuit of a dream, sometimes falling down, sometimes going off in the wrong direction, and at the end of life we reconnect with our dream at the resting place. When we are ready, we reach the center and are welcomed home by the Creator God.

The maze or labyrinth is a perfect metaphor for life at present. I was reassured when I remembered the sticker and the story behind it. Even people residing in an uncrowded, 'simple' age of tribes and low technology felt like they were living in a maze. My feelings of being lost in life's twists and turns have been soundly seconded throughout the ages.  Albuquerque was a pleasant zig in the labyrinth, and I look forward to seeing what zag comes next.