i met some cool people from brazil when i walked on the camino. one such brazilian friend made this and sent it to me a few years ago. i thought i would share!
conoci a unos brazilenos cuando fui al espana a caminar. uno de ellos hizo este video y me mando hace dos anos. quise compartirlo con ustedes!
Showing posts with label pilgrimage. Show all posts
Showing posts with label pilgrimage. Show all posts
Monday, June 22, 2009
pilgrimage, rumi, and red lentil soup
to all my fellow pilgrims,
buen camino.
from terminal four gate 25 i started and ended this trip, if you can call it an end.
i wrote those words on the sixth day of july in the year 2005 after returning from a pilgrimage across spain. it has been four years since i walked the camino de santiago. there exists inside of me a battle to not forget all that was learned on the 500 mile journey. there are days i simply forget all that took place, and then there are nights when dreams rich in color and vibrancy will not let my mind let go of each step, each person met, each lesson learned and unlearned.
those nights are incredible, and i am not surprised when i wake up exhausted.
today i had lunch with a friend who not only encourages me but walked with me four summers ago. we ate delicious red lentil soup, talked about the books we were reading and caught up on each other's lives.
she was speaking to her sister when i sat down at the table, and commented, "well, jillian is here now, so i will call you later. oh, yeah, i forgot you knew her." i wondered what she possibly could be talking about. i didn't recall any such meeting. when she got off the phone she said, "she walked with you while you were on your pilgrimage."
it only took that reminder. so many people walked here in the u.s. while i was walking in spain. people i still don't know walked with me.
it was a humbling reminder.
as we prepared to say goodbye after our delicious lunch, my friend grabbed her book of rumi and left us with this parting thought.
I want to be where
your bare foot walks,
buen camino.
from terminal four gate 25 i started and ended this trip, if you can call it an end.
i wrote those words on the sixth day of july in the year 2005 after returning from a pilgrimage across spain. it has been four years since i walked the camino de santiago. there exists inside of me a battle to not forget all that was learned on the 500 mile journey. there are days i simply forget all that took place, and then there are nights when dreams rich in color and vibrancy will not let my mind let go of each step, each person met, each lesson learned and unlearned.
those nights are incredible, and i am not surprised when i wake up exhausted.
today i had lunch with a friend who not only encourages me but walked with me four summers ago. we ate delicious red lentil soup, talked about the books we were reading and caught up on each other's lives.
she was speaking to her sister when i sat down at the table, and commented, "well, jillian is here now, so i will call you later. oh, yeah, i forgot you knew her." i wondered what she possibly could be talking about. i didn't recall any such meeting. when she got off the phone she said, "she walked with you while you were on your pilgrimage."
it only took that reminder. so many people walked here in the u.s. while i was walking in spain. people i still don't know walked with me.
it was a humbling reminder.
as we prepared to say goodbye after our delicious lunch, my friend grabbed her book of rumi and left us with this parting thought.
I want to be where
your bare foot walks,
because maybe before you step,
you'll look at the ground. I want that blessing. *
these words rolled around in my head and transported me back to the road, the camino. when i returned from walking the pilgrimage, my feet were abused to say the least. half dollar sized blisters had left their toll, not to mention the invisible pain deep in the tendons. i was very much aware of my feet during the walk and for many months after. a few days after my return, friends washed my feet after a conversation of pilgrimage.
it was a humbling reminder filled with beauty and grace.
ever since the camino, i have mostly taken communion with bare feet. it serves as a reminder to me of that humility and blessing that came from walking so many miles and from having to confront myself in the midst of waving wheat fields and spanish vineyards.
every june, memories come back to life for me in dreams and visions. i welcome them. it calls me back to wholeness, it calls me back to simplicity, and it calls me back to a grace understood on the camino in ways that are impossible to explain.
on the last page of my journal, i wrote myself a note, as if i knew the time would come when forgetfulness would become easy.
this pilgrimage has and will continue to be about grace... so be gentle with yourself, jillian, as you step back into a world that seeks for grace so hard that you will miss it...
slow down
breathe
walk and see it
tranquilo. tranquilo. tranquilo.
* this is part of rumi's poem mary's hiding.
Saturday, January 24, 2009
codex calixtinus
in the move kung fu panda, panda is stuffing his mouth with sacred fruit and the wise and ancient turtle makes a comment to him about letting the past go, letting the future wait, and to remain in the present. he says, that is why it is called the present because it is a gift.
yes, i frequently take insight from cartoons.
i have been rearranging my apartment today to make room for new things and to get rid of old things. in the midst of moving hundreds of books, i found something i had been missing for a long time. i found my paper passport from when i walked the camino de santiago and a map my dad made on the computer to mark my journey across spain.
it seems like long ago that i made that 500 mile journey by foot, and yet it seems like yesterday too. sometimes i forget and then i see my walking stick, or my knees and back will hurt just like they did in spain. or i will see pictures or hear from a camino friend.
i had been missing my passport for some time now, and tonight i finally found it. the passport gets stamped at every place you stop and stay along the pilgrimage. i unfolded the worn pages and it all came flooding back. i sat on the floor in my room and started crying. i saw the stamps from all the places i had stayed and a peace overcame over me. the pilgrimage causes you to laugh, cry, shout, sing, and be silent all in the same breath. pretty incredible and unbelievable.
the camino
the pilgrimage
is neither distinctively past, present, nor future. it is all three. it calls me to be present to the journey of the past, to not fear the future, and to be as attentive to the now as i can be.
when i most need to be reminded that i am whole and loved, or to be tranquilo, i will dream about the camino, find my lost passport, or wear the boots i wore then. inevitably i always cry.
on the last page of the passport there is the following prayer. it is the pilgrim's prayer from the 12th century. i share it with you now, so you too can bask in its "pure awesomeness" according to po the panda.
God, You called your servant Abraham from Ur in Chaldea, watching over him in all his wanderings, and guided the Hebrew people as they crossed the desert. Guard these your children who, for love of your name, make a pilgrimage to Compostela.
Be their companion on the way,
their guide at the crossroads,
their strength in weariness,
their defense in dangers,
their shelter on the path,
their shade in the heat,
their light in darkness,
their comfort in discouragement,
and the firmness of their intentions;
that through your guidance,
they may arrive safely at the end of their journey and,
enriched with graces and virtues,
may return to their homes filled with salutary and lasting joy.
Amen.
yes, i frequently take insight from cartoons.
i have been rearranging my apartment today to make room for new things and to get rid of old things. in the midst of moving hundreds of books, i found something i had been missing for a long time. i found my paper passport from when i walked the camino de santiago and a map my dad made on the computer to mark my journey across spain.
it seems like long ago that i made that 500 mile journey by foot, and yet it seems like yesterday too. sometimes i forget and then i see my walking stick, or my knees and back will hurt just like they did in spain. or i will see pictures or hear from a camino friend.
i had been missing my passport for some time now, and tonight i finally found it. the passport gets stamped at every place you stop and stay along the pilgrimage. i unfolded the worn pages and it all came flooding back. i sat on the floor in my room and started crying. i saw the stamps from all the places i had stayed and a peace overcame over me. the pilgrimage causes you to laugh, cry, shout, sing, and be silent all in the same breath. pretty incredible and unbelievable.
the camino
the pilgrimage
is neither distinctively past, present, nor future. it is all three. it calls me to be present to the journey of the past, to not fear the future, and to be as attentive to the now as i can be.
when i most need to be reminded that i am whole and loved, or to be tranquilo, i will dream about the camino, find my lost passport, or wear the boots i wore then. inevitably i always cry.
on the last page of the passport there is the following prayer. it is the pilgrim's prayer from the 12th century. i share it with you now, so you too can bask in its "pure awesomeness" according to po the panda.
God, You called your servant Abraham from Ur in Chaldea, watching over him in all his wanderings, and guided the Hebrew people as they crossed the desert. Guard these your children who, for love of your name, make a pilgrimage to Compostela.
Be their companion on the way,
their guide at the crossroads,
their strength in weariness,
their defense in dangers,
their shelter on the path,
their shade in the heat,
their light in darkness,
their comfort in discouragement,
and the firmness of their intentions;
that through your guidance,
they may arrive safely at the end of their journey and,
enriched with graces and virtues,
may return to their homes filled with salutary and lasting joy.
Amen.
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