… let’s imagine a labyrinth without a central quid (neither monster nor treasure), so one that’s a-centric, which basically means a labyrinth without a final signified to discover … like a kind of mortal game, possibly with nothing at the center; here, again, the path would be equivalent to the goal — but only if you manage to get out … (Biblioklept, in Roland Barthes on the Labyrinth Metaphor).
The quid at the heart of the labyrinth — we have discovered — is emptiness. There is neither monster nor treasure. No, wait! that’s not true: both monster and treasure are to be found here. For we are the labyrinth and the quid … not only the possibility of slaying the monster but also the means of returning alive, and bringing the treasure out, too.
Lao Tzu’s well-known explanation is pertinent here: “Clay is moulded to form a cup, but it is on its non-being [its emptiness] that the utility of the cup depends. Doors and windows are cut out to make a room, but it is on its non-being [its emptiness] that the utility of the room depends.”
Similarly, the old Zen story in which the master keeps pouring tea into his guest’s cup … even after it is full and overflowing.
Fullness is a condition of no possibility; emptiness is open to every possibility.
It is worth noting that “[labyrinths] have historically been used both in group ritual and for private meditation” (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Labyrinth).
PS: How could I have forgotten to mention the treasure?