Pilgrimage: Die Before You Die, and Have Fun Doing It!

Posted on July 29, 2014 by barbmorris

On the Meseta — May 25, 2014

Why walk 500 miles to Santiago de Compostela? I mentioned my struggle with this question to a very thoughtful friend, who said, “It used to be that to get to Compostela you had to walk to Compostela.” That’s clearly no longer true. In our modern world, with instant communication, almost-instant travel, and diversity of religious beliefs, walking to Santiago de Compostela is a choice. Most of us no longer believe that making pilgrimage to a saint’s tomb will give us a free pass to heaven, even if we think we need such a pass. We don’t believe that the relics in cathedrals, even if they are really from the true cross or the corpse of some long-dead holy person, confer any special mojo — any special forgiveness of sins. (Related question: what are sins?)

Indeed, there were moments on Jed’s and my recent pilgrimage when walking to Santiago seemed the opposite of holy. It seemed possibly cruel and probably a sign of mental illness to walk through pain. I have been wondering why we do it. Why I did it. Yet people who make this choice seem to benefit from their walk. Why?

Here’s my current hypothesis: We go on pilgrimage to practice dying, and because pilgrimage is really fun.

1. Pilgrimage as practice in dying: Pilgrimage, like any discipline, is practice in letting go of ego and expectations. It’s an expansion of our comfort zones in order to commit to what we truly value. Daily prayer or meditation, intentional service of others, eating a vegan diet, writing three pages every morning, whatever — discipline is learning how to do the hard stuff. God knows it seems easier to stay in life’s comfortable shallow end, trying our damndest to keep pain and fear at bay. For most of us, life will bring painful stuff — illness and death and loss in all its forms. C.S. Lewis said, “Die before you die. There is no chance after.” Pilgrimage is an opportunity to “die before you die,” to practice staying present to pain and fear, to practice letting go of control and expectations. When we stay present and open to pain and fear, we become more resilient and confident in our abilities to choose love in the midst of pain.

Pilgrimage allows us to do hard things in a relatively safe context — supported by ancient history and tradition, following directions and instructions that are millennia old, and in the company of others doing the same work.

2. Being a pilgrim is just plain fun. Even when I felt tired and sore, the Camino’s freedom and focus, hospitality, intellectual stimulation, companionship, rich social life, ample outside exercise, and incredible beauty were simply and juicily fun. I never stopped saying and thinking, “Honey, we’re in Spain. We’re in SPAIN!” The gift of being in the pilgrimage bubble, outside of normal time with its demands and constraints, was priceless. I felt at home in my body again — at one with my “god pod.”*

So, these are my answers for why modern pilgrims leave their homes to walk miles and miles: To practice doing hard things, and to have vast amounts of fun.

There’s a lot more to unpack, which I will be doing over the coming weeks on the blog now that my thinking is more coherent.

Thanks for walking with me. ¡Buen Camino!

Photo credit: Joe speetjens, a fellow peregrino from mississippi.

*”God Pod” coined by fellow martha beck coach susan hyatt

Five hundred miles later…

Posted on June 12, 2014 by barbmorris

Jed and I arrived in Santiago de Compostela yesterday morning around 9 am. I feel immensely full of gratitude and awe. We did it!

I am confident that the end of the Camino is the only the beginning of something amazing. People who have walked this Way before us say it takes about six months to feel like they’ve processed their experience, so — more to follow! Thank you all so much for your thoughts and prayers.

Love,
Barb

Poppies on the Meseta

Posted on May 20, 2014 by barbmorris

Today I walked 20 kilometers (around 12.5 miles) with relative ease, for which I am profoundly grateful. Our Burgos rest day was healing.

Today we walked up onto the vast central plateau of the Spanish peninsula, the Meseta. I am glad to be out of the city and back in the Spanish countryside, where the silence is profound, the sky is immense, and the choices are limited. Red poppies are everywhere.

What I’ve Learned So Far on the Camino

Posted on May 7, 2014 by barbmorris

Only 36 hours on the Camino and I have learned so much already! Jed and I are in Zubiri, in Navarra. Yesterday we crossed the Pyrenees from France, a day that I have been worried about for months. We spent the night in Roncesvalles, in the Albergue Provincial at the foot of the Spanish Pyrenees, a monastery since medieval times. Here’s a little of what I know so far.

1. Transitions can happen when I’m not looking. We crossed from France into Spain and I didn’t know it because I missed the border sign, which I had been watching for. It didn’t matter. The transition happened anyway.

2. Mass in Spanish may still be incredible moving, probably more so than in English. I understand why people miss the Latin mass. “Esta noche, Espana es el mundo.” I cried. Of course, I was VERY TIRED.

3. What I think will be the hard part might not actually be the hard part. Twelve miles of interminable climbing yesterday was a piece of cake compared to the last two downhill miles, which hurt like a son of a bitch.

4. The oddest things evoke a visceral response. In the old church last night in Roncesvalles, there was a simple statue of St. James that spoke to my heart much more clearly than the gilded Virgen de Roncesvalles that dates from the 1400s. My response has nothing to do with my ego and everything to do with my heart.

5. Sometimes good advice is to “get up more times that you fall,” and sometimes good advice is “enough is enough.” Wisdom is probably being able to tell which one applies at any given moment. I hope I learn how to do that.

Less profoundly:

6. I really like waking to the serenading of volunteer Danish hospitaleros strolling through the dormitory singing “Wake up, little Suzy,” and “Morning has broken” at 6 am. This is a thoroughly charming ritual and I want more of it.

7. There are gigantic slugs in Spain, also.

8. Basque macaroons and pate are delicious, as is red wine from Navarra.

Most profoundly of all:

9. I am learning that I can walk farther than I thought I could (fueled primarily by cafe con leche and toast) and that I am so blessed, especially to be here with Jed.

Thank you all for your prayers and positive juju. I am grateful.

More lessons to follow.

Buen Camino!

Let’s Just Walk Today

Posted on April 29, 2014 by barbmorris

Do you remember a moment when you made a major life decision or chose to acquiesce to a loved one’s wishes and then said, “Oh. Shit. This is what that means”? Maybe it was moving in together, or getting married, or having kids, or your husband saying he felt called to be an Episcopal priest. I had that moment recently (again) after Jed said, “I’d like to walk the Camino de Santiago, and I want you to come with me.” “I’d love to,” I replied.

As this adventure has become less theoretical and more real, I’ve been freaking out more and more. Then I think, “Come on. You’re a coach. Coach yourself.” So yesterday I did.

First a little background: The Camino de Santiago’s most-traveled route, the one popularized in The Way, is 500 miles of well-trodden path that begins in St. Jean Pied de Port in the far south of France, crosses the Pyrenees and most of the northern part of Spain, and ends in Santiago de Compostela. It’s not wilderness. The Camino passes through several cities including Pamplona, Burgos, and Leon. Along The Way there are many small towns full of shops and bars and cafes and hotels catering to the more than 150,000 people who make this trek annually, and have for a thousand years. The freaking out part, for me, is that we plan to take five weeks to walk these 500 miles, which works out to about 15 miles per day. We’ll take a few rest days, so the average goes up to around 17 miles per day. That’s fewer miles than some walk in a day, and more miles than others.

Yesterday, when I felt the freak-out, I got quiet and listened to what my mind was saying. Here’s what I heard:

I don’t want to do this.
It’s not safe to do this.
I shouldn’t have to do this.
I don’t know how to do this.
I don’t know what’s going to happen.

That’s when it clicked. I think my life needs to be predictable, that I need to feel in control, and that I must always look and feel competent. I know these things about myself.

The Camino will challenge these beliefs so much.

My husband included this video in his adult forum on the Camino yesterday. About half way in these four words appeared: “Let’s Just Walk Today.” And I got it. I understood then that The Way through this experience for me is Let’s Just Walk Today.

The Camino is already providing.

Let’s: I walk in community. I walk with the love of my life, with the prayers and support of family and friends and people I’ve never met, and with fellow pilgrims.
Just Walk: Take the next step. Trust the Camino. Simplify. Lighten up. Let go.
Today: Breathe in all this awesomeness with appreciation and gratitude.

Peregrinos say that the Camino changes their life, usually in ways they did not expect. I walk to grow in trust, flexibility, and acceptance. I am grateful for your prayers, support, and gifts. I invite you to accompany me. I’ll let you know what happens along The Way.

This way, Pilgrim.

Barb Morris

Writer, Teacher, Facilitator, Artist

Tag Archives: Spain