The Walk of the Fallen

I can hardly think of a more appropriate day to write this blog entry.

In a backyard in a small town in the Pacific Northwest, one woman and her family have been quietly dealing with their own feelings about the war in Iraq. As a way of finding mental and spiritual peace, she threw herself into physical labor. Beginning in 2003, Labrys has constructed a seven-circuit Cretan labyrinth behind her home. This is more than just any labyrinth, however. It is a place where names are recorded. Hundreds of them, in fact. On the opening day of the labyrinth, 400 luminaries were lit, one for each dead service member at that time. Now there are 4,700 dead, and Labrys keeps their names in a book.

Labrys walks the stones of the spiral with a list of names in hand and sings with each step, a song to invoke courage for the crossing over, a song for the dead. She wonders if the soldiers she honors are surprised to find their names on this list.

As the war in Iraq continues, Labrys will continue to record the names. And on the other side of the world, thousands of miles away from these tons of rock in the Northwest soil, young men and women she has never met will continue to die. She will continue to honor them, following her heart and her spirit, journeying along the Walk of the Fallen.



(Images © Labrys; used with permission)