Walking Meditation: A Labyrinth for Lollie
Over the years, I’ve found myself drawn to the labyrinth. I’ve walked them at sunset, in stillness, in moments of celebration, and in seasons of transition. Each walk has offered something unique—sometimes a sense of peace, other times a deep release, or simply a quiet moment to breathe and reflect.
But this Mother’s Day, the labyrinth held something new. I created and walked one in memory of my mom, and the experience was unlike any I’d had before. It wasn’t just reflective—it was sacred. The process gave me space to grieve, to honor, and to find grounding during a tender and emotional time.
In the midst of Mental Health Awareness Month, this felt like a timely reminder of how important it is to create space for our inner well-being. Life doesn’t always slow down when we need it to. Emotions shift, responsibilities pile up, and grief—or any kind of change—can feel like a storm. But healing is possible, and sometimes, all it takes is a simple, intentional practice.
Walking a labyrinth is one of those practices. It’s a moving meditation. A form of walking prayer. A way to reset your nervous system, your thoughts, and your spirit—without needing anything more than your breath and your feet.
There are so many creative, accessible ways to support our mental health. Whether it’s through a quiet moment in nature, journaling, expressive arts, breathing exercises, or meditative walks—these tools are around us every day. And we don’t have to wait for a crisis to use them. They can be part of our rhythm, our ritual, and our return to center.
I’m thankful to share this journey with someone who deeply understands the power of intentional healing. My partner, Reginald Adams, supported this moment with care and presence, and I’m grateful we share a commitment to creative wellness. His ability to guide and co-create meaningful experiences continues to enrich the work I do—and this one was no exception.
Beginning in June, Reginald and I will be collaborating to offer a series of Summertime Labyrinth Projects—community-based experiences that invite reflection, restoration, and connection through movement, meditation, and art. We’ll kick things off with the Juneteenth Freedom Walk: Labyrinth-Mandala in Galveston, TX, honoring both the journey toward liberation and the power of intentional healing.
I hope you’ll join us. Until then, I encourage you to carve out just a little time for yourself this month. Try a walking meditation. Take a breath. Write something. Sit with silence. Celebrate your resilience, your softness, your journey—whatever that looks like right now.
Because healing doesn’t have to be complicated. Sometimes it starts with one mindful step.
With love and light,
Rhonda Radford Adams