Daily Dose (April 28 – May 1)
TUESDAY APRIL 28 —
Walking gives your mind time and space. To wander and mull and ponder. And evaluate, and then re-evaluate.
I’m walking (we’re doing about five miles per day), but gratefully my heart and spirit are “walking” too. That’s the gift of a pilgrimage. It invites (and allows) us to find or restore, or forgive or heal, or to forget or bury; or perhaps willingly, just to have the deck of our world shuffled.
That’s not easy to do when we are wedded to a “script”.
And I’ve had memories of my first Pilgrimage on the Camino de Santiago revisit my mind as mementos—and keepsakes.
On one of my first visits touring the awe-inspiring Porto Cathedral—“born” in the 12th century, and rebuilt and renovated numerous times throughout the centuries, now an elegant mixture of architectural styles—a woman is vacuuming, between and under the pews. The Cathedral is full of visitors (tourists). And the sound, the noise, of the vacuum fills the air. I smile big, for this is the perfect metaphor. The gift of beauty, the gift of the sacred, the gift of being present, even in a world where interruption (clamor) is real, and not to be denied.
And I eavesdropped on a couple of tourists (eavesdropping is one of my spiritual gifts). A couple walking, looking at the guidebook on their phone, him saying to her, “We should figure out how to do this tour in the right order. I don’t think we’re doing this right.”
Yes, another big smile.
And I can really relate. After all, what should we do first or second or third?
And what if we’re going about this in the wrong order?
In my travel for work, people would often ask, “Did you have a successful trip?”
“I’m certain I did,” I tell them. Although truth be told, I don’t always know.
That memory comes back to me now on our Ireland sacred-site journey. And I’m very aware that there is some kind of pegboard in our heads where we hang our worth or value. The one about “success”. And it’s too easy to get worked up about finding the right peg. And I’ll tell you what; that peg board is hard to disregard and leave behind.
Here’s what I know: Life seems to ignore the script we have in our mind.
But this is also true: when that happens, we walk. We walk toward, or we walk away. Either way, we begin a journey—a pilgrimage to find or restore or forgive or heal, or to forget or bury; or perhaps, just to have the deck of our world shuffled.
And gratefully, a Pilgrimage-Camino walk is a good reminder.
Its wisdom calls me daily to pick up my pack and march on. To trust, find beauty, and to be vulnerable. To share pain, joy, and connection. To, with practice, patience (lots of patience), faith, and grace, continue walking.
So. Sometimes we need a different way to measure what really matters.
This brings to mind my mentor, Lew Smedes’ reminder, “Gratitude dances though the open windows of our hearts. We cannot force it. We cannot create it. And we can certainly close our windows to keep it out. But we can also keep them open and be ready for the joy when it comes.”
Living one open window at a time.
I once did a workshop where I asked the participants to describe life. One woman said, “Life is so… life is so… life is so… daily.”
Yes. She’s right. And that is the secret.
The miracle is that there need not be a miracle—just a slow drip of experience. Being mindful of small things; the ordinary is the hiding place for the holy.
Places where we are able to receive. And places from which we give: wholeheartedness, joy, grief, compassion, sorrow, kindness, grace, forgiveness, gladness. And until I understand that truth (until I take it to heart), I miss the point.
Or, in the words of William Kittredge, “Moments when nothing happened. What sweet nothing.”
In other words, we don’t run from the moment (even moments that unnerve and distress).
We don’t suffocate the moment with stuff (physical and mental).
We don’t sanitize the moment with platitudes.
We sit. We listen. We look. We taste. We smell. We see.
We look for the light of God in the most ordinary, and even the most dull, of contexts.
(I know that I preordain, when I hope or try to orchestrate, rather than just experience. I also know that whether it is, experience or relationship or liturgy or prayer or meditation or Camino, if you don’t bring it with you, you’re not going to find it there.)
On this pilgrimage, I am carrying Mary Oliver’s invitation with me, “Pay attention, be astonished, tell about it.” This is what grows in the soil of gratitude.
The permission to unpack. To let go of the messages that cling, or that scroll through, unquestioned. Such as keeping pace, “Am I falling behind?” “Am I getting there on time?”
On this journey, I’m grateful for the moments every day, when I pause, and say, “Looook.”
I write this today in the Burren. Known as ‘An Boireann’ in Irish, which means ‘The rocky place’. Literally, another region of wonder, on the Wild Atlantic Way with endless vistas of ancient limestone—a landscape of beauty, mysticism, heritage, nature, healing energy and peace. Today, on our way to The Cliffs of Moher.
Thank you for being a part of Sabbath Moment. And I am grateful that we continue to walk one another home.
WEDNESDAY APRIL 29 —
Prayer (poem) for our week…
A Camino prayer
May I walk this day
in the realm of grace,
walking with You
my feet firmly on your earth-path,
my heart loving all as kindred,
my words and deeds alive with justice.
May I walk as blessing,
meeting blessing at every turn
in every challenge, blessing,
in all opposition, blessing,
in harm’s way, blessing.
May I walk each step in this moment of grace,
alert to hear You
and awake enough to say
a simple Yes.
Robert Corin Morris
Photo… “Terry, My husband Steve just sent me this. He is off on a personal retreat and this was the sunrise this morning at Newark airport with NYC in the background. Wow there is beauty everywhere if we open our eyes! Sounds like you are having a great time in Ireland. My grandson’s name is Cashel. Need to take him to the Rock of Cashel some day. Was inspired by your blog. Thank you. Take Good Care” Beth Hayward… Thank you Beth…
