When Doors Close: Finding Your Path in Life's Labyrinth

There's something profound about tracing the winding path of a labyrinth with your finger. Unlike a maze, which tricks and confuses, a labyrinth has only one path – in and out. Yet somehow, this simple practice can unlock deep wisdom when we're facing closed doors in our professional lives.

I've sat with countless leaders over my years of coaching – from bright-eyed graduates clutching resumes that seem to disappear into the void, to seasoned C-suite executives grappling with unexpected career turns. The story is often the same: "I did everything right. Why isn't this working?"

Here's what I've learned: sometimes the Universe's greatest gifts come wrapped in rejection letters.

When we're pressing our shoulders against a door that won't budge, it's easy to fall into shame stories. "I'm not good enough." "I should have..." "If only..." But what if we approached these moments like walking a labyrinth? Every turn, even those that seem to lead away from our destination, is actually part of the journey.

One client, a brilliant emerging leader who was devastated when her "dream role" went to someone else. As I led her in a finger tracing labyrinth meditation during our session, something shifted. "You know," she said, reflecting at the end of the meditation, "I've been so focused on pushing through this door, I haven't noticed the windows opening around me." Six months later, she launched her own very successful consulting firm – something she'd never have considered if that door had opened. It brought her more joy and more balance, not to mention success.

The practice is simple: print a finger labyrinth from my Resources page if you don’t have one. As you trace the path, notice where you feel resistance. Where do you want to rush ahead? Where do you want to turn back? Just like in our careers, the path sometimes takes us so close to the center we can almost touch it, only to wind back out again. Trust the path.

This isn't about toxic positivity or pretending disappointment doesn't hurt. It's about holding both the grief of closed doors and the curiosity about what might be waiting around the next turn. It's about trusting that maybe – just maybe – the Universe has a better sense of timing than we do.

When we're stuck in the hallway between closed doors, the labyrinth reminds us: we're not lost, we're journeying. Every step, even the ones that feel like setbacks, moves us forward. Our job isn't to force the doors open, but to stay present, to listen to that quiet voice of intuition, and to trust that we're being guided toward something that aligns more deeply with our true path.

The next time you're facing a closed door, try sitting with your finger labyrinth. Let your breath slow. Feel the way forward. And remember – sometimes the most beautiful chapters of our story begin with the words "This isn't what I planned."