On the Labyrinth and Creativity

Looking for Alaska brought up the idea of the Labyrinth of Suffering for me. I find this to be rather interesting and it made me think about a lot of things. Mainly why I seem to like the stars so much.

Here, have some late-night thoughts on complicated subjects:

You struggle to find a way through the Labyrinth and then someone comes along and asks, "Why don't you use your wings?"

We are all born into the Labyrinth of Suffering. What we use as our map, our compass, our guidebook to help us make sense of the world, varies from person to person but most of us use something - religion, our own moral code, what-have-you.

The Labyrinth is not something we can ever completely remove ourselves from. Nor - do I think - should we. It is home to the most damaged and the most beautiful of souls.


Suffering breeds the strongest of people and I know this on many levels. My creativity might not have existed had I not felt the need to escape - from myself, from the world and from everything after. I've fought on the fringes of several disorders and problems and each time I stop to think 'Why?'

Normally, once it was largely over, I'd have some deeply superficial answer for it but sometimes I could dig deeper. I could walk back into the Labyrinth.

And, strangely enough, the air was cool and sweet. I remained not because I was suffering but because I could see the sky. The Labyrinth can never trap you completely because it has no roof. You can always see the stars, arranged into far-reaching and majestic constellations by whatever creative force you believe exists in the world - be it God or the universe itself.

A glint in the darkness. A light at the end of the tunnel. Creativity is one of the greatest gifts - one that enables us to transcend barriers, to live a thousand lives within the limited numbers of our own. Infinity in a heartbeat. And it is a gift which allows us to fly.

Maybe, then, the only way out of the Labyrinth is up.