Pilgrimage brings clarity to harmony with creation

“To journey and to be transformed by the journey is to be a pilgrim” – Mark Nepo, “The Book of Awakening”

This past May, I fulfilled a nine-year dream: to celebrate my 60th birthday by walking the Camino de Santiago, a pilgrimage route in Northern Spain.

As a pilgrim, I was seeking personal change and greater depth in my life. The Camino offered me the challenge and gift of harmony that is slowly transforming my life.

The Camino de Santiago (Way of St. James) is a pilgrimage route that dates to the Middle Ages. Pilgrims walked for religious reasons: gratitude, repentance, to honor the relics of St. James the Apostle, who is reportedly buried in the Cathedral in Santiago de Compostela, at route’s end.

My husband, George, and I did not have the five weeks needed to complete the entire 500-mile Camino, nor the back strength to carry packs. So our pilgrimage began in Leon, 300 miles into the route, where we secured our pelegrino (pilgrim) credentials.

We contracted with an agency to transport our luggage and arrange lodging and dinner during the two-week journey.

We donned our scallop shell (the symbol of the pilgrim) each morning and recited a short prayer by Joyce Rupp, written for her pilgrimage a few years earlier. We reminded each other to “walk in a relaxed manner,” the title of Rupp’s book on the Camino, so we could appreciate the experience, rather than focus on the destination.

Along the route, we stopped at Cruz de Ferro, a site where pilgrims leave a rock. I brought my rock from home, the word “harmony” etched on it. As I placed it at the foot of the cross, I made an emotional commitment to live more fully, in harmony.

Several days later, at a 12th century Romanesque church, I became acutely aware that harmony was, in reality, the “why” of my pilgrimage. I was out of tune, my life filled with discord and dissonance. As a pilgrim, I sought deeper harmony with God, others and creation.

The Camino had its daily challenges, but I always felt God’s presence.

Approaching the mountain village of Rabanal del Camino, George and I realized we needed a walking stick for our ascents and descents along the rocky trail. It was there that Jesus, a villager, offered us (gratis) two of his roughly crafted shepherd’s canes. They became steady companions.

After leaving Samos in driving wind and rain, I prayed for a miracle in Sarria, the next village. I needed foot-care supplies for my blisters, but it was Sunday and pharmacies are closed in small towns.

As we walked down a long, quiet street, I noticed a “farmacia” sign and someone leaving the store. I shouted for joy and ran across the street, blisters screaming in pain.

Harmony with others came as the gift of solidarity. I had not expected my passion for justice, especially in El Salvador, to flower on the Camino.

Along the route, there was a section of fence in which hundreds of crosses were wedged. I formed a cross from sticks and placed it in the fence, a reminder of my friends in El Salvador who carry the cross of poverty and oppression each day. I was in solidarity with them each time I climbed a hill or a mountainous path.

A note in my journal: “Keep going. El Salvador, the poor, injustice. Working for justice is always uphill.”

Our relaxed pace harmonized with God’s creation. After dinner one evening, Sheila, an Englishwoman, invited us to a meadow outside the village, where she introduced each flower to us by name. We rejoiced in God’s diversity and beauty.

Later, upon leaving the mountain village of O Cebreiro, I heard heavenly music, but couldn’t find the source. As the fog lifted, a herd of cows appeared in the far-off pasture, their bells ringing in harmony!

A year has passed since my Camino experience, but I am still animated by the memories and feel blessed by the insights from it. I live more deeply; I strive to walk, work and live in the relaxed manner of the Camino.

To honor the new pace, I cut hours in my ministry position at St. Aloysius Parish and cultivated more time for prayer and reflection. I strive to live in the now, to trust in God’s Providence, still a monumental struggle each day.

The gift of solidarity is expressed in deeper passion and compassion, not only for campesinos in El Salvador, but for the sick, the mentally ill and those on the margins in our community. Most of all, the gift of solidarity is manifested in deepening friendships, in taking time for those who grace my life.

Brief phrases summarize my growing relationship with creation: simplify/less is more; grow a garden/eat healthy; buy local and organic/save the environment; reduce/reuse/recycle; make bread/share bread.

May harmony with creation became the perfect harmony I experienced on entering the Cathedral of St. James, where I wept tears of pure joy.