Dear Friends,

 

When my husband David and I decided to go into strict quarantine, I became aware that this time of social distancing has a lot of similarities with the pilgrimages I did in the past. While a big difference is that the coronavirus seems to have shattered our everyday life with an abruptness nobody expected, a pilgrimage is based on free will. However, even this statement is questionable – who is it really who wants to walk, wants to leave the familiar and walk into the unknown.

 

When I started to walk pilgrimages 22 years ago, my sister and I stumbled from one mistake into another. We were inexperienced and poorly equipped. The pilgrimage to Maria Zell (a place in Austria) lasted only for 3 days. On the first day, we went about 25 miles, far too much for the first day. I had tendinitis and the pain in my right Achilles tendon was almost unbearable. I walked in spite of it (no doctor would give this advice). During the next day, pouring rain was our constant companion. We did not have appropriate raingear and also no cover for our backpack. Not only did we become wet to the bone but also our clothes in the backpack became soaking wet.

 

When we arrived in Maria Zell, the pain in my Achilles tendon had disappeared and never came back. Despite all the discomfort, we had a very special time together.

 

Since my first pilgrimage to Maria Zell, I have walked several thousand miles and completed 8 pilgrimages. Each of the pilgrimages had its own challenge. My last pilgrimage was in Italy last September, where I followed the footsteps of St. Francis. I would like to share it with you.

 

The words of the Dalai Lama, “a true pilgrim does not have to go anywhere,” inspired me to consider the quarantine as a pilgrimage with nowhere to go. It will be a challenge, like the first pilgrimage I did 22 years ago. But I am dedicated to facing the difficulties.  So that is how I perceive the big similarity between being on an outer pilgrimage and walking the path of an inner pilgrimage – basically it is the same. For the next few weeks I will share with you my experience of walking the Camino Francesco and connect it with my experience of the pilgrimage we are now all on together in quarantine.

 

Garyo

 

(2)

 

   Outer and inner pilgrimage

The way of St. Francis and the journey to Non-Self

 

Pilgrim as a wanderer

 

 

 

St. Francis (1181-1226) was the son of a rich cloth trader in Assisi. It is said that he was very generous and had high dreams for himself – he wanted to become a knight, a very prestigious profession at this time. In the war against Perugia (a nearby city), he was captured and imprisoned for one year. When he came back home, he had lost his grounding and his dreams. He did not know what to do with his life anymore and searched for meaning. One time, he was in the chapel of St. Damiano and heard an inner voice (Jesus) ordering him to rebuild the chapel. Still used to his familiar life, he sold everything he owned and the cloth from his father’s store in order to follow this calling. His father was infuriated and sued him. During his trial (1206) he not only gave everything back to his father, but he also took off his own clothing and stood naked in front of the population of Assisi. This was the start of his new identity as a wanderer.

 

In many traditions in the past, people left home in order to meet themselves in a new way – like the haiku poet Matsuō  Bashō in Japan, Milarepa in Tibet, and the most important in our tradition – Buddha himself.

 

A pilgrim is a wanderer who travels to sacred spaces and leaves the familiar behind. A pilgrimage provides the opportunity to step out of the stories, which determine who we are, and step into each moment and each activity in a fresh, new way. The famous poet Rumi said it is “to wash yourself from yourself.”

 

Now, during quarantine, I have dedicated myself to living with this mindset. It is not a physical walk anymore, but I become the pilgrim of my mind. I can bring the awareness of the moment into everyday life, into the familiar. With that, I can come to the realization that every aspect of my life is sacred.

 

The poet Rainer Maria Rilke expresses it in the following way:

 

God speaks to each of us before we are,

Before he’s formed us — then, in a cloudy speech,

But only then, he speaks these words to each

And silently walks with us from the dark:

 

Driven by your senses, dare

To the edge of longing. Grow

Like a fire’s shadowcasting glare

Behind assembled things, so you can spread

Their shapes on me as clothes.

Don’t leave me bare.

Let it all happen to you: beauty and dread.

Simply go – no feeling is too much –

And only this way can we stay in touch.

Near here is the land

That they call Life.

You’ll know when you arrive

By how real it is.

Give me your hand.

 

– Translated by Leonard Cottrell

 

 

During the pilgrimage in Italy last September, I walked about 217 miles from La Verna (near Arezzo in Tuscany) to Poggio Bostone (near Rieti in the province of Latium). It took me three weeks. Except for one day, I walked alone. Like all of my pilgrimages, it was an amazing experience.