The Miz Maze: Finding the Right Path

Walking has always been one of my favorite past times. When I’m upset. When my thoughts are in a whirlwind (which happens often when you have OCD). When my writer brain gets stuck. Or shoot, if I just need a good breath of fresh air and a healthy dose of sunshine. I put on my walking shoes and I just walk. I don’t usually have much of a destination in mind. It’s more about the movement. The release of nervous energy, and the clearing of my head.

So, when I went to England back in January, and my dear friend suggested a nice countryside ramble, I was all in. Because a ramble, for those of you who may not know, is basically a British term for a nice long walk in the countryside. One that can last all day, if you’re willing and able. Through fields, pastures, and flocks of sheep. And also through mud, so wear some waterproof shoes.

It happened to be a beautiful weekend when my friend and I left hurried London behind and retreated to the small English town of Downton (not to be confused with Downton Abbey). In all honesty, I almost fell in love with the place from the start. Especially our Air B&B, which was run by a very lovely woman who left all kinds of thoughts and suggestions for things to do in the area. Maybe she knew we were coming for a ramble, maybe she didn’t. Either way, she left out a map and a sheet of instructions to find something called “the Miz Maze.”

My friend and I decided right then where we would go on our ramble. Despite a subtle warning our hostess had left us that the Miz Maze could be somewhat difficult to locate. We didn’t let that scare us. Nor did we listen the next morning at the local bakery, when a group of very friendly Downton residents gave us their own little warning. Oh yes, they said. Very hard to find. Even for experienced ramblers. Cell service is limited out there. Be prepared to be out all day.

Blah, blah. I said to myself. We had a map and a list of very detailed instructions, complete with photos to help us on our way. How hard could it really be to find this so-called Miz Maze? Whatever in heck a Miz Maze even is, I was overly confident that we could find it. No problem. 

This might be a good time to admit one of my major flaws as a human. And that is that I don’t listen very well when someone tries to tell me what to do. I tend to get defiant. As if the person who is very kindly trying to advise me on something thinks I’m not capable of doing it on my own. It triggers a rebellious streak in me that almost always wins out over reason. And so it was with the Miz Maze. The more people cautioned me about its difficulties, the more determined I became to find it. So, my friend and I laced up our boots. We strapped on our backpacks. And we took off into the fields and pastures surrounding Downton.

The first thing I learned on my first British ramble was MUD. Oh my, so much mud. Despite the beautiful sunny day that the ramble gods and graced us with, the mud pulled at my shoes and made me quite unsteady on my increasingly heavy feet. I don’t think I had ever walked through so much mud. Luckily, as we got to some higher ground and the sun arched its way overhead, things dried out a little. Mud gave way to drier grass.

Which solved one problem, but not the more pressing problem of how alike all these fields looked. How hard it was to actually match what we were seeing in person to the oh-so-helpful pictures that our Air B&B hostess had left for us. We couldn’t remember which way we had come from. We quickly got foggy on where we were going. And next thing you know, we were lost. In the middle of a field. Not a person in sight, with only some bleating sheep nearby.

No problem, I said to myself. This is why God invented cell phones and satellites. I quickly reached into my pocket and pulled out my mobile device. When I went to the Google Maps app, I found a dot representing me on a screen that was… well… entirely blank. Just that little blue dot. You are here, it said to me. Here, in the middle of nowhere. Good luck, and God speed.

My friend and I stood there for quite some time, scratching our heads, looking at the pictures, trying to decide what to do. And while we did manage to find one fellow rambler and get directions from him, I’ll be the first to admit that those directions were bonkers. “Oh, go to this particular wooden fence post and make a left. You’ll see a diagonal path through a particular grassy field. Follow that path then make a right at the crossroads. Then you’ll see a group of trees. The Miz Maze is in there. Alright then.”

Off he went. What fence post? What crossroads? There were fence posts and crossroads everywhere. And grassy fields were all around us. How were we to know which one he meant?

It felt hopeless, in a way. And there was a small part of me that did want to panic. Break down in tears. Throw my hands in the air and give up. But you know, sometimes when we get lost, it’s the quickest way to find out who we really are. How capable we really are. How smart. So, I chose to NOT panic. Instead, I drew a deep breath, and I decided that my friend and I would get through this. We would find that damn Miz Maze (still unclear what that actually was) and we would find our way back to the Air B&B too. Just to spite everyone who told me I couldn’t.

With the choice made and the self-assurance in place, we got back on the muddy trail. And somehow, with an incredible amount of teamwork and studying of those pictures, we did find our way. We got back on track. We kept slogging through the mud. And just as the afternoon sun started making its way downward, we found the Miz Maze.

Now, after all of that, I’m guessing you would like to know what a Miz Maze is. And, I was aMAZEd to find out how cool they are. In part because there are only eight of them left in the entirety of England. And of those eight, only two are accessible to people. One of them was the Breamore Maze. The one I stood there, in the cool shade of a creepy forest, staring at in wonder.

Put simply, a Miz Maze is a decorative turf maze. A labyrinth of a pattern put there for… well, no one really knows, but the intents and purposes seem to be mainly spiritual. And dating the Miz Maze is equally difficult. In the case of the Breamore Maze, the first official record of it goes all the way back to 1783. However, experts theorize it was built long before then, probably sometime in the Middle Ages. The best estimates being sometime in the Twelfth or Thirteenth Centuries.

The Breamore Maze doesn’t offer many clues as to why it was put there. All we really know is that the design contains some elements of Christian symbolism, and it may have been used by monks for worship, prayer, and absolving of sins. Experts also note that a similar pattern appears in the Chartres Cathedral of France, and another Miz Maze almost just like this one can be viewed on St. Catherine’s Hill near Winchester.

That’s it. That’s all we really know about the mysterious Miz Maze. 

But to me, its element of mystery made it even more cool. Maybe even more symbolic, in a way. Because as I stood there in the forest, looking at it, I felt a sense of pride and confidence bubble up inside of me. Something that, truth be told, I don’t feel very often. Despite everything I have accomplished. Most of the time, I just feel lost. Like it’s not enough and never will be. Like I have to continue breaking barriers to get anyone to take me seriously. It’s a lot of pressure, and it does put a dent in one’s confidence.

But looking at that delicate maze, I felt my confidence surge. I heard a whisper from my old, warrior self. A part of my personality that I have put on the back burner as of late. “You can do this,” the voice said. “You can find your way, just like you found your way today.”

My visit to the Breamore Miz Maze was an inspiration on many fronts. First of all, I can never get over looking at things that are that old. That have somehow managed to survive for hundreds of years despite wars, shifting landscapes, and invasive plant species. But secondly, and perhaps more importantly, it made me feel good about myself for once. It made me feel like I’m enough. Like the skills and determination that it took me to find this place were all I really needed. They were enough to provide a path through the dizzying wilderness.

As the sun began setting, my friend and I left the Miz Maze. We hiked our way back into town and enjoyed a lovely, nourishing meal at the local pub. Which felt pretty darn good after logging over 20,000 steps and covering myself in mud. And wouldn’t you just know it? As we were scarfing down food and sustenance, we ran into the very same locals that we had seen that morning. The ones who warned us against trying to find the Miz Maze.

“Did you find it?” They asked.

I smiled. “Yes,” I said proudly. “We found it.”

They were impressed. And somehow, that made me feel better than almost anything else I have accomplished to date. Because I found my way. And I reminded myself how capable I really am underneath the mud splatter.

All photos by M.B. Henry – for more of my photography, click here.

FLIGHT OF THE HUMMINGBIRD – NOV 3!

A quick reminder that my fourth novel, Flight of the Hummingbird, comes out on Nov 3! You won’t want to miss this one. Learn more by clicking here.