This week I am touching back on that question that I had as I sat in the doctor’s office, waiting for my x-ray results that would tell me the extent of my injury: “What is a pilgrimage when I can’t walk?”
The answer to that question is clear now: Be a pilgrim anyway.
So I’ve spent the last nine weeks discovering what that means. It’s been a chance to begin to embody the qualities of being a pilgrim, beyond just being aware of them mentally.
This time has given me an opportunity to explore Life as a Pilgrimage: What would be available to us if we thought of ourselves as pilgrims in our everyday life?
Being a pilgrim acknowledges that you are going to get stopped, and you are going to get detoured. This is true of our lives, and for pilgrims, it is an accepted part of the journey. It’s unexpected when it happens, but not necessarily bad.
Pilgrims carry only what is essential. People who use walker carry only what is essential too. This quality of stripping life down to its essentials is calling strongly to me at this time in my life. At this moment, I don’t have a clear idea of how to best go about it for myself, but I will find out. I’m feeling a strong pull towards the freedom that it would yield.
As I mentioned in a few recent blog posts, I’m finding my own rhythm, as each pilgrim does. For me, it’s the rhythm of my daily living. As I discover more about that, I am finding freedom and wisdom in right rhythm.
Pilgrims learn to trust their path, and they learn that there is a deeper, abiding well-being beyond the appearance of events and circumstances. I feel there is a deep peace when I trust my path in the way that pilgrims learn to do. For me, it is learning to flow creatively with the unfolding of my life, rather than trying to stick to plans that become outmoded the moment that I make them.
Oh, the joy and wonder that is available in a mindful walk! As a pilgrim of life, I want to cultivate mindful attention in my walking. It is so simple, and, it seems, so easy to forget or neglect.
I’ve mentioned how important it is for pilgrims to remain open and receptive, as they walk in unknown territory. Their circumstances are constantly changing, and they need to listen inwardly, to respond with their intuition and deeper wisdom. This is how they keep their equilibrium in the outer events of their walk. This period of convalescence has brought home to me, again, how a good chunk of daily “listening” time and space is vital to my own well-being and creativity.
And, speaking of creativity, pilgrims respond to life creatively. It’s probably because they are so present. The quality of their walk depends on their ability to take what life gives them each day and respond to it with initiative, innovation, and heart. I admire that ability and I aspire to cultivate it in my own life. I’ve been reminded in just the short period of recovering from my injury that we all have a resilience and an ability to respond creatively to unforeseen circumstances. We can surely apply all of that to our own lives as well as to a pilgrimage.
So, I guess the curve ball that life threw me has helped me begin to understand a lot more about myself as a pilgrim, and about our lives as a pilgrimage. For that, I am grateful.
I know that I will learn a lot more as I walk.
What have you learned about being a pilgrim? Or, about your life as a pilgrimage?
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