Monthly Archives: 七月 2016

You are browsing the site archives by month.

Douglas Goetsch


Walking a Labyrinth

Eleanor, who is driving

me to the Atlantic

City bus station,

asks if I wouldn’t

mind stopping

at a labyrinth

in Longport she hates

to pass. Outside of

mythology, or The Shining,

all I know of labyrinths

is that you’re supposed pola white shot

to walk them, slowly.

This one is painted:

white lines

on green asphalt.

Feel yourself emptying,

she tells me

as we meander in,

the countless switch-backs

relieved by long arcs

that deliver us

into new quadrants.

An Hispanic woman

and two little boys

have joined us, but

the boys soon lose

patience, and cut to

the circle in the middle,

where they shove one another

like sumo wrestlers.

When we arrive, I’m not

sure if I’ve accomplished

anything. I look over

at the Church of the Redeemer,

which is closed, feeling

quietly mocked.

On the way out, Eleanor

tells me, you’re supposed

to fill yourself with aspirations,

things you want in your life.

That strikes me

as a little greedy —

though I would like

to make my bus.

Eleanor would like

her Bahá’í divorce

to be over with,

the year of living alone

and dating nobody

but her husband.

It becomes hypnotic,

retracing the turns,

the painted lanes…

I look up

and see my mother,

whom I haven’t

seen in years,

treading innocently

as anyone

while walking a labyrinth,

or folding laundry,

or driving a child

to the doctor.

You could try

to figure it out,

the pattern of it all,

But it might

be better just

to walk it, slowly.

That was ten years ago


About ten years ago when I was an undergraduate in college, I was working as an intern at my University’s Museum of Natural History. One day while working at the cash register in the gift shop, I saw an elderly couple come in with a little girl in a wheelchair.

As I looked closer at this girl, I saw that she was kind of Money exchangeperched on her chair. I then realized she had no arms or legs, just a head, neck and torso. She was wearing a little white dress with red polka dots.

As the couple wheeled her up to me I was looking down at the register. I turned my head toward the girl and gave her a wink. As I took the money from her grandparents, I looked back at the girl, who was giving me the cutest, largest smile I have ever seen.

All of a sudden her handicap was gone and all I saw was this beautiful girl, whose smile just melted me and almost instantly gave me a completely
new sense of what life is all about. She took me from a poor, unhappy college student and brought me into her world; a world of smiles, love and warmth.

I’m a successful business person now and whenever I get down and think about the troubles of the world, I think about that little girl and the remarkable lesson about life that she taught me.