Chartres

Judy. This weekend Ted flew to Germany to visit our nephew Chris and his family. As much as I adore them, I’m a bit overwhelmed with all the traveling we’ve been doing, so I sent love and begged off. Instead I took a day trip to Chartres, a place that’s had a hold on my heart for over twenty years.

Although I’d been to France many times, I had never visited Chartres or its cathedral, Notre Dame de Chartres. But in 1999, I signed up for a week-long retreat to study it and walk the labyrinth there. I’d been enamored by labyrinths for years, so when this opportunity arose, I jumped on it. Dr. Lauren Artress of Grace Cathedral in San Francisco would be leading the retreat. She had been instrumental in reintroducing the use of labyrinths for spiritual purposes, and I was fascinated. 

The week was everything I expected. We not only learned about the Cathedral itself, built starting in the twelfth century (of course on an old Roman temple), but also about the labyrinth, dating from 1200. So you really cannot separate the two—at least not in my head. One of our teachers pointed out the obvious differences in the building as new chief builders took over. The Dean of the Cathedral showed us many of the 364 representations of women, including Notre Dame de la Belle Verrière, Notre Dame du Pilar, and the Oak Madonna in the Crypt. And Lauren explained that, while we don’t know exactly WHY people walked the labyrinth, it brings about a sense of calm and peace. 

The highlight of the week was on Friday night when we started in the Crypt, meditated in front of the Oaken Black Madonna, and slowly processed up to the darkened church and the labyrinth, which was surrounded by candles. A group of musicians played softly as we walked. We had walked several times before but this was a truly powerful experience. 

About ten years ago, as we were passing through Paris, Ted and I made a mad dash back to Chartres to walk the labyrinth, only to find that it wasn’t open that day. It’s usually covered with chairs for the service, and the chairs are removed once a week for walkers. So, you see, this little spiritual retreat of mine felt pretty important in the midst of some crazy but fun travel. 

Bracelet proof I'm clear to travel!

The town is an easy train ride away, and, after showing my mask, ticket, and pass sanitaire to the station guards, I was on my way. By noon I was stepping into the sun in the Gare plaza. WOW! The place had grown up in the time I’d been gone. The sweet tree-lined pathway had given way to shops and cafes—and tour bus parking. There’s now a big “Chartres” cutout—just like in all big cities. 

The "New and Improved" welcome

And it's on the Camino!

I made my way past the tour groups into the cool of the building. There were tourists, walkers, gawkers--you name it. But I took a deep breath, gathered my thoughts, and began my walk. 

A quieter moment on the Labyrinth

It’s an interesting thing about labyrinth walking—everyone does it his own way. Some people walk quickly to the center, then, instead of following the path out, just leave. Some walk a step at a time, using it as a prayer. Others focus on the path on the floor and breath, and others dance their way in and out. There’s no right way. I saw all of these—plus tourists oblivious to the walkers, heading straight across to the altar. It was not the magic of darkness, music, and candles, but you know what? It was just fine. That’s how life is—it moves around us at its own pace, and we make our way as best we can. It was still calming. 

Twelfth century Madonna and Child

After my walk, I crossed behind the altar to see the cobalt blue of the Chartres medieval windows and my favorite window with Notre Dame de la Belle-Verrière, unlike any depiction I remember seeing of Mary and Jesus. It, too, was made in the twelfth century, somehow survived a great fire, and was repositioned in the thirteenth century. The blue glass of the oldest windows is said to have been made with a secret formula; no one has been able to replicate it. 

Chartres Blue

Turning back, I saw the rose window, which, thanks to the Sacred Geometry on which the Cathedral was built, would fit exactly on top of the labyrinth. Tourists and all, it’s a soaring yet comfortable place to be. 

East Rose Window fits right into the Labyrinth

Treated myself to another boeuf tartare at an outdoor café where a lovely waiter let me practice my French and told me I was doing fine. “Just take your time.” One more visit to the Lady in the Window, and I headed back to the train. 

Plaza outside the Cathedral

Amazing what just one day can do for you.