There are many ways to walk a labyrinth. You can meditate on a specific topic or issue as you walk, asking for clarity or guidance. Or you can walk with nothing in mind and just see where your thoughts take you. Sometimes it's nice just to practice mindfulness and use all five senses to notice what surrounds you.
Some walk the labyrinth quickly, some slowly. I've even seen one young woman walk with her eyes closed, feeling her way with a bare foot. Some people stop to pray at certain points in the labyrinth. When you meet someone on the path, you just briefly step aside for them and then resume your place on the circuit.
Walking a labyrinth is always an introverted activity. You turn and look inward. No one can walk a labyrinth for you, just as no one can make your spiritual journey for you. Silence is the norm, although some labyrinth spaces may feature soft instrumental music in the background.
A labyrinth is, of course, a beautiful metaphor for our relationship with the Divine and for our spiritual journey through life. At times, you find yourself walking close to the centre, to the source. Then the next thing you know, you are far away from the centre on the outskirts of the labyrinth. You turn and turn on the unicursal path, wandering but never lost. And then, when you least expect it, you suddenly arrive at the centre. After a few minutes of prayer or contemplation, you're back on the path, spiraling outwards this time, assimilating what you have learned or experienced.
I like to walk a labyrinth at least three times per visit. I find that it takes a couple of completed walks just for my mind and pace to slow down in order to achieve a more leisurely, contemplative stroll. So I usually plan to spend at least an hour or so for each labyrinth visit. And I always like to finish my visit with a final "gratitude walk" to express my thanks to the Divine for all the good things in my life.