Regain my bearings

November 17, 2025
permission to be you, permission to pause, Self-care
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Weather continues to be the story line here in Portugal.
Storm Claudia, combined with tornadoes, battered parts of the country—south of where we are—with substantial rain and strong winds, triggering landslides and flooding and significant damage, including loss of life.
The storm now making its way towards our friends in England.
The impact here in Porto has been relentless heavy rain for the past five days. And if you are walking, which we do for a good wee bit of each day, it is the kind of rain where you have to say, “I’m guessing that staying dry cannot possibly be in our plans today.” Along with, “Lord, have mercy.”
We don’t tend to think of Camino pilgrimage, and torrential rainfall in the same sentence.
Which is another way of saying, “I can assure you that I didn’t plan for this.”
Storms have a way of doing that. Rearranging the script. Or, turning our world catawampus. And not just our physical world, but even more so, havoc to our mental and emotional world.
Bottom line, it takes a toll. I loved seeing this question asked on a Camino blog, “Are Camino blues possible?” And I answer, “Yes ma’am, they are.”
We do know that hurt and destruction are real—and our hearts go out to those whose lives have been impacted.
“So,” I’ve been asked, “How did you handle the weather?”

This I do know: When it comes to decision making, about storms of any kind, it’s tempting to live reactively. And we forget: that sound and healthy choices come from the inside, from the ground of mindfulness and well-being, where they have taken root.
Rabbi Albert Lewis tells the story of a man seeking employment on a farm; he hands a letter of recommendation to his new employer that reads simply, “He sleeps in a storm.” The farmer is uncertain what to make of the note, but desperate for help, he hires the fellow. Several weeks pass, and suddenly, in the middle of the night, a powerful storm rips through the valley. Awakened by swirling rain and howling wind, the farmer leaps out of bed. He calls for his new hired hand, but the man is sleeping soundly. And so, the farmer dashes off to the barn, where he sees to his amazement that all of the animals are secure with plenty of feed. He then runs to the field, only to discover that the bales of wheat have been bound and wrapped in tarps. And when he runs to the silo, he finds latched doors and dry grain. Only then does he understand the note, “He sleeps in a storm.”
The rabbi concludes, “If we tend to the things that are important in life, if we are right with those we love and behave in line with our faith, our lives will not be cursed with the aching throb of unfulfilled business. Our words will always be sincere, our embraces will be tight. We will never wallow in the agony of ‘I could have, I should have.’ We can sleep in a storm.”

Gratefully, I have slept well on this Camino journey, my body (and mind) grateful for the catch up—and time out of the storm. I smile as I write this, because there is something about self-care that feels selfish, and makes it a not-so-easy sentence to write.
Ahhh yes, when life feels heavy, we forget that we are all wired to be replenished. And care of any kind, begins with self-care.
I stand by that, more than ever. Depletion and exhaustion, and being parched, may feel rampant, but there is healing grace in receiving the gift of self-care.
Another good reminder that, without even knowing it—for every single one of us—there are times when we need space to be (and stay) emotionally and spiritually hydrated. Especially in a world that can quite easily, daily, feel like an emotional storm.
So. This week, let us embrace the power of pause. In other words, the permission be gentle with yourself.
And the permission to make (and honor) space(s) that can replenish and heal.
The permission to honor the healing power of sanctuary. Parker Palmer’s reflection, “Sanctuary is wherever I find safe space to regain my bearings, reclaim my soul, heal my wounds, and return to the world as a wounded healer. It’s not merely about finding shelter from the storm: it’s about spiritual survival. Today, seeking sanctuary is no more optional for me than church attendance was as a child.”
This will change the questions we ask.
Not, “What did you do (accomplish) today?”
Instead, we ask, “Today, where did you find sanctuary, to regain your bearings?”
And remember; this affirmation is not an assignment to achieve, but a gift to embrace.
And this week let us carry with us these questions from Henri Nouwen.
“Is there a quiet stream underneath the fluctuating affirmations and rejections of my little world?
Is there a still point where my life is anchored and from which I can reach out with hope and courage and confidence?”

It’s not just the choices the young man in the barn made (to not give way to chaos and havoc, to embrace sanctuary), but the fact that he made those choices from a place where his soul was at rest.
Choices from—and choices that rest in—the gift of sufficiency.
The truth is that our strength—fullness, abundance, value, sufficiency, wholeness—is already there. Even if we don’t see it.
And here’s the deal: If we don’t bring it with us, we’re not going to find it there.
Our resources will be adequate if, in the midst of the storms, we affirm who we are, remember what we are here to do, and claim the presence of the One who never leaves us.
Here’s the deal: When I see only scarcity, I miss the fact that every single one of us has been gifted with creativity, abundance, heart, love, passion, gentleness, helpfulness, caring, kindness, tenderness, restoration and a shoulder to lean on (for crying or for dancing, depending on the mood at the time). This is the paradigm of Sufficiency.
I carry with me these words from St. Francis de Sales, “Never be in a hurry; do everything quietly and in a calm spirit. Do not lose your inner peace for anything whatsoever, even if your whole world seems upset.”

Writing this from Matosinhos, Portugal. A town north of Porto, the first leg of my coastal Camino last year. This is Nancy’s first, and the third time I’ve walked this leg. Savoring the memories.
On the coastal Camino, Matosinhos is a surfer’s nirvana, and seafood heaven.
And as I write this, I’m reading updates about California also experiencing atmospheric river storms, encouraging evacuations. Our hearts go out.

Quote for our week… “The tragedy of life is what dies inside a man while he lives.” Albert Schweitzer

Note: The Rabbi’s story from Mitch Albom’s, Have a Little Faith (the Rabbi’s sermon from 1975)

BULLLETIN BOARD

Today’s Photo Credit: The yellow arrow is the very recognizable current symbol of the Way—the Camino de Santiago. Despite its recent history (it was conceived in 1984 by the priest Elías Valiña), it is today one of the most identifiable international symbols of the Way of Saint James… Thank you to all, I love your photos… please, keep sending them… send to terryhersheyster@gmail.com

Yes, your gift makes a difference… Donation = Love…
Help make Sabbath Moment possible. I write SM because I want to live with a soft heart; to create a place for sanctuary, empathy, inclusion, compassion and kindness… a space where we are refueled to make a difference. SM remains free.
(Address by check: PO Box 65336, Port Ludlow, WA 98365)

POEMS AND PRAYERS

Slow Down
In the midst of my confusion
In the time of desperate need
When I am thinking not too clearly
A gentle voice does intercede
Slow down, slow down, be still
Be still and wait, on the Spirit of the Lord
Slow down and hear His voice
And know that He is God
In the time of tribulation
When I’m feeling so unsure
Sissel Kyrkjebø
(Listen to the song below, in Music for the Soul)

Prayer for the Camino
O God, who brought your servant Abraham out of the land of the Chaldeans, protecting him in his wanderings,
who guided the Hebrew people across the desert,
we ask that you watch over us, your servants, as we walk in the love of your name to Santiago de Compostela.
Be for us our companion on the walk,
Our guide at the crossroads,
Our breath in our weariness,
Our protection in danger,
Our albergue on the Camino,
Our shade in the heat,
Our light in the darkness,
Our consolation in our discouragements,
And our strength in our intentions.
So that with your guidance we may arrive safe and sound at the end of the Road and enriched with
grace and virtue we return safely to our homes filled with joy.
In the name of Jesus Christ our Lord, Amen.
Apostle Santiago, pray for us.
Santa Maria, pray for us.
(An ancient prayer from the Codex Callixtinus, that comes at the end of the Pilgrim Mass said along the Camino de Santiago)