MZC HERE-NOW

 

 

(13)

Peace is every step

 

 

 

“Peace is every step” is the title of a book by Zen master Thich Nhat Hanh. I have chosen his words as a motto, a guideline for my pilgrimages. During pilgrimages, it is inner peace that helps me to stay open to the beauty in the world, to appreciate the day and everything that is happening during this day.

 

It stopped raining when I left Creccio. Like always after a rain, everything was fresh and green.

 

 

 

 

 

The town Contigliano

 

 

 

 

 

Gorgeous overgrown pathways

 

 

 

 

 

In the middle of a meadow stood a former chapel, where I had a super lunch

 

 

 

 

The sky looked different on the other side

 

 

However, the day continued to have challenges. Thunderstorms were approaching and soon heavy rain pounded down on me. I lost my way in the rain and found it again. When I arrived at the Sanctuario Fonte Colombo, I was ready to stop. The hermitage had places to sleep. I was the only guest and had dinner and breakfast with the friars, who very warmly welcomed me.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Eating in the refectory with the friars was an interesting experience. In big letters, SILENTIUM was written at the end of the hall. However, the 5 friars, each sitting at his own 15-foot-long wooden table, were having conversations by shouting to the other friars far away.

 

 

 

 

 

 

La Maddalena chapel existed at the time of St. Francis

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Tau sign in the Maddalena chapel is said to have been painted by St. Francis

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

By peeking through a tiny window of the Maddalena chapel, I saw these bones

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Walking down to the Sacro Specco

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Only when I was staying there did I discover that this place was very special for St. Francis.

 

He often visited the sanctuary near the end of his life. It was here that he dictated the rules for his order to Brother Leo in 1223. The pope put a lot of pressure on him to write these rules. By this time, thousands of people were already following his calling and the church wanted to secure its influence. St. Francis could not include the rule of absolute poverty.

 

Maybe a more important event that showed the personality of St. Francis was the treatment of his eyes in 1225. St. Francis had contracted a bacterial eye infection

(trachoma) in Egypt that had made him nearly blind. He had travelled to Egypt because he had hoped to make peace and stop the war between Muslims and Christians. At the time, the treatment for this infection was to press a hot iron rod on the face between the eyebrow and ear. Before the treatment, he asked the fire not to be too hot, but he did not welcome nor fight the pain. He accepted it.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The heavy thunderstorms continued when I walked to Rieti the next day.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Walking beside the Velino river showed me the incredible force of this river with its emerald green water.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Rieti seen from the Roman bridge

 

 

Romans were already settled in Rieti in BCE and had built a bridge over the Velino river, which still can be seen in the river and underground. It was the main route for transporting salt, a product more precious than gold.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Roman bridge

 

 

 

 

 

 

Underground Rieti with part of the Roman city wall

 

 

 

 

 

 

In Rieti, I met up with my son Lorenz again. He walked part of the Camino Francesco, too, and the timing worked out perfectly for us to finish the way together.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Santuario La Foresta

 

 

Only four kilometers outside of Rieti lies the Santuario La Foresta. After his eye surgery, St. Francis stayed at La Foresta in order to recover. Now it is part of the organization “Mondo X,” a place to help drug addicts, alcoholics, and gamblers to heal from their addiction. We met a person caring for the organic vegetable garden. He was full of praise for this place.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Cloister of La Foresta

 

 

 

 

 

 

Organic garden

 

 

 

 

 

 

Five dogs and three cats also live in the Sanctuary of La Foresta. They are incredibly peaceful and loving to each other.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Cantalice

 

 

It was great to walk with Lorenz. We had so much to share and I was very happy that I did not have to look constantly for the Tau signs. I knew that he has good orientation. So we talked and walked up an absolutely gorgeous mountain path, stopping at one point to admire the Rieti valley down below and the Monte Garzano (2000 meters) in front of us. Now Lorenz looked at the guidebook and said, “Mutti, we missed a turn!” We had to go back! Suddenly we heard a car driving up the dirt road. The driver was looking for his cows. He told us a shortcut that would save us a lot of time.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Beautiful, but the wrong way

 

 

In order to take the shortcut, we had to pass a private property (Agriturism Poeta). We were so lucky that there were no dogs. However, we came to a six-foot-high locked gate and had to climb over the wall to get to the other side. I was so happy that Lorenz was there to help.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Gate of Agriturism Poeta

 

 

We arrived in Poggio Bostone in the late afternoon. Lorenz and I stayed in the dormitory of the monastery San Giacomo, a bit outside of Poggio Bostone. This place is also connected with St. Francis. From here, he sent his first followers as wandering monks out into the world (1208).

 

It was too late to go up to Sacro Speco, the favorite place of St. Francis. We decided to walk there early in the morning in order to catch the public bus back to Assisi.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Dormitory of San Giacomo

 

 

I was still dark when we hiked up the mountain. Except for the howl of an owl, everything was incredibly quiet.  After walking for half an hour, we saw the tiny stone chapel nestled underneath a powerful rock. We entered. To our surprise, the chapel was filled with warm candlelight. The candles were lit the day before, on October 4. On that day, St. Francis died 805 years ago.

 

 

 

 

 

Chapel

 

 

In this hermitage, St. Francis had a mystical experience. He felt hopeless, full of self-doubt and depressed because of the many mistakes he thought he had made in the past. He faced huge responsibilities and did not see any way to carry them out. At this moment of great despair, in the deepest moment of darkness, it is reported that light came through the thick walls of the chapel and illuminated his heart with love and joy. He realized that there was something much larger than himself. He called it the loving heart of God. I would say he realized the loving awareness of Non-Self.

 

After a long time of silence, soaking in this wonderful atmosphere of warm candlelight and stillness, Lorenz and I went to the bell tower and rang the bell. This is the traditional way to end the pilgrimage. We gave thanks for everything we received on our pilgrimage and asked for peace in the world.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

With the ringing of the bell, I also want to thank you for walking with me on the Camino Francisco and wish you, on your journey through life, an abundance of joy and happiness.

 

Gassho,

Garyo

 

 

Peace is every step

The shining red sun is my heart

Each flower smiles with me

How green, how fresh all that grows

How cool the wind blows

Peace is every step

It turns the endless path to joy

                                                                    Thich Nhat Hanh

 

 

 

 

(12)

Pilgrimage and the mind of gratitude

 

 

 

When I am on a pilgrimage, gratitude is my constant companion. Gratitude is not attached to anything specific, it develops organically by connecting with nature, people, and myself. It is a state of mind I am living in. I think that gratitude and equanimity are the parents of joy.

 

Leaving Romita meant leaving the wildness and beauty of nature, the deep green mosses and abundant blooming flowers, the stillness, and the authenticity of the people living there. It was hard.

 

 

 

 

 

Ancient moss-patched walls near the Romita

 

 

The path took me to old towns with ancient walls and lots of history.

 

 

 

 

 

San Gemini

 

 

When I arrived in Collescipoli in the evening, I was not interested in the old town anymore. I was dead tired. Walking for hours through industrial areas and on asphalt streets robbed all my energy. I ate Pizza in the only restaurant I could find in town – the town seemed dead.

 

 

 

 

 

City gate of Collescipoli

 

 

 

 

 

 

On of the empty streets of Collecipoli

 

 

The next day brought a different challenge. The walk went up and down hills, crossing creeks, going through silent woods and fields. However, there were hardly any signs and often I had to guess the way.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Huge oak tree on the way

 

 

I also made a detour up to the hermitage Speco di Narni, a gorgeous place high up in the mountains.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Cloister of Speco di Narni with a magnificent view down into the valley

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

When I arrived in Stroncone, I looked up how many steps I did today – it was more than 45,000. No wonder my feet were hurting. Stroncone is, like many other towns in Umbria, a very old town with narrow streets, many stairs, and arched walkways. I stayed in a 16th-century house, now a hotel. In the breakfast room, two doors led to former prisons.

 

 

 

 

 

Entrance gate to Stroncone

 

 

The way from Stroncone to the Sanctuary of Creccio was a pleasant walk up to a nearly 1000-meter-high pass and down into the Rieti area. The high plateau is solitary and open.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Sweet chestnut tree

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A woman calling her cow, Stella

 

 

Twice a week, she drives from Stroncone to the community meadow to feed her cow.

 

 

I had reserved a place in Creccio for the night. The monastery and town of Creccio became famous because it was here that St. Francis invented the Christmas celebration as we know it. He wanted the population to see how Christ was born in poverty and ordered a monk to prepare a crib placed between a living ox and donkey.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Approaching the monastery of Creccio

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Cell of St. Francis

 

 

When I arrived in Creccio, I found out that my accommodation was in an empty house one kilometer outside of the village. The room I was assigned to was located in the basement with no window. I agreed to stay there, as it was clean and inexpensive.

 

 

 

 

 

 

The piazza in the village of Creccio

 

 

It was early morning when I got up. I put the typical Italian moka pot on the gas flame and decided to check the weather. Before I stepped out, I slipped into my underwear and T-shirt and opened the door. The moment I was outside, the door locked behind me! I had no way to get in again! What should I do? I had no phone to call and there was nobody around!

 

 

 

 

 

 

Locked door into a windowless room

 

 

 

 

 

 

Tower in Creccio

 

 

I had no choice but to walk in the rain on a public road to the village of Creccio and get the owner out of his bed. Luckily, I knew where he lived. It was an incredible experience! On the one hand, I felt more than ever before the connection to the ground – felt the stone pebbles under my feet, and the rain and the fresh air on my skin. On the other hand, two emotions filled my body and mind – the one was anger that the owner installed such a door without warning me about it. However, the most dominant state of mind was gratitude – I was immensely grateful that I did not have to walk totally naked on this public road! Every step was connected with  “thank you, thank you, thank you!”

 

 

 

 

 

 

Morning view of Creccio

 

Gratitude for me is the key to opening the heart. Whatever life brings, I always have the opportunity to be grateful. During pilgrimages, gratitude happens naturally. It is not so easy to keep this state of mind in everyday life, especially during quarantine. Therefore, I have to practice!

 

I started practicing gratitude years ago. When I light a candle before morning zazen, for example, I connect lightning the candle with gratitude for life. Now I expand this practice to my everyday life. I am grateful as often as I remember – for food, for water, for the sunlight – the list is endless.

 

Last November, I visited a mindfulness forum in the monastery of Melk in Austria. It featured Brother Steindl-Rast, a Benedictine monk who studied Zen Buddhism with several masters, including Shunryo Suzuki Roshi. Life is a gift, he says, and the only response to this gift is gratitude.

 

 

 

 

“It’s not just another day
it’s the one day that is given to you today.
It’s a gift.
 
Look at the sky
Open your eyes
 
Let the gratitude overflow.
Then it will really be a good day.”

 

              Brother Steindl-Rast

 

 

(11)

Pilgrimage and Perseverance

 

 

 

A pilgrimage is training for not giving up despite adversities. Not giving up needs resilience and perseverance. The strength to endure hardships along the way comes from something I would call trust in life. This energy gives support on a very deep level, like the ocean supporting the waves. Ocean and waves are the same – one just has to be aware of it!

 

 

It was recommended that I take a bus for the first 6 km after Spoleto, so I did. The walk would have been through unattractive industrial zones. It was still a long walk to the hermitage Eremo La Romita, where I wanted to stay overnight. Many times I thought I lost the way – the path was hardly marked. When evening approached, I was walking in wild nature. Heavy rain in the past had washed deep canyons into the stony way. When it started to rain, I started looking for a possible place to stay overnight in case I lost my way. Then I saw a yellow Tau on a single wall – what a relief!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I arrived at the Romita in the evening and entered the gate without reading the warning signs written in Italian. As soon as I entered, two Maremma sheep dogs charged toward me, fiercely barking. Then they suddenly stopped and continued barking wildly.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Luckily, a woman was working in the garden and called the dogs back. Then she scolded me! I should have called before entering the gate! They could have attacked me! After that first encounter, the dogs became my friends and so did the woman, Katharina, who lived there permanently.

 

 

Immediately after I stepped through the gate, I knew – I love this place! A huge, over hundred-year-old Cedar tree spread its branches over the terracotta roofs, providing shade to the inner court. The garden was full of flowers, the air smelled of ripe figs and lavender, and there were birds everywhere.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Lebanese cedar

 

 

There was an atmosphere of beauty, peace, and serenity. Besides Fra Bernadino, three young people lived there, and Paola was there on a visit. Fra Bernadino, I was told by Katharina, would come in two days. I decided to stay for three nights.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

About eight hundred years ago, St. Francis founded the Romita as a Franciscan monastery. In the 19^th century, the monks had to leave and the buildings deteriorated nearly to piles of stones.

 

 

 

 

 

Entrance to kitchen and dining room

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Morning glory in front of the kitchen entrance

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The former cloister with a string of beans for drying

 

 

Fra Bernadino, a Franciscan monk (he received his PhD in theology studying with Dr. Hans Küng, who later became the president of the Foundation for a Global Ethic), had a vision of renovating the chapel, and he started the renovation with his own hands in 1991.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Fra Bernadino with Katharina from Germany

 

 

 

 

 

 

The chapel photographed from the garden

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

He faced fierce resistance from his order, but he persevered. With the help of many friends, he made the whole complex into a hidden treasure. People from all over the world come to Romita to be with him, work with him, talk with him.

 

He expresses the spirit of St. Francis – a rebel, an independent thinker, unpredictable and unique, and a lover of nature, beauty, joy, and truth. This was a threat to the Franciscan order! They wanted him to come back to the “safety” of the institution and leave the Romita. He refused. After 57 years of having been a Franciscan monk, at the age of 74, he was thrown out of the order. Now he is 82 years old and radiates joy and love from every pore of his body. He says that he has chosen love and liberation over fear.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It was at the Romita where St. Francis started to compose his famous song, “Canticle of the sun.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

Work in the garden

 

 

The days at the Romita were structured and free at the same time.  The morning started with a morning service and then breakfast in silence. After that, everybody worked – in the kitchen, garden, or somewhere in the house. The afternoon was free.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A welcome poster for Fra Bernadino in the kitchen and dining room

 

 

 

 

 

 

Hanna making bread

 

 

 

 

 

 

Even the pumpkins smile

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

In the morning, Fra Bernardino wakes the pilgrims up with the soft sound of a kalimba and a song. Then he rings the bells of the little chapel. The first to come are his three dogs Romi, Dina, and Lea. They lay down around the altar. He starts the morning service with self-composed music for a poem by St. Francis and plays on a small, aged organ.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

This was a place of joy, beauty, poetry, and harmony.  Despite incredible difficulties, he was holding on to values he cherished. He said that, otherwise, he would have lost his soul.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Time to say goodbye to Hanna and Paola

 

 

 

 

 

 

View from Belvedere, near Romita (800 meter), to San Gemini

 

 

 

 

 

 

Cave where St. Francis meditated and prayed

 

 

Perseverance and resilience during quarantine are qualities of mind that are needed.  New aspects in myself might arise; aspects I might not like. Perseverance helps me to accept it and not get swallowed up by it. Resilience helps me to not give up. Examples like St. Francis and Fra Bernadino show me how much a human being can endure and, with equanimity and gratitude, still keep the spirit of joyfulness.

 

 

 

 

 

(10)

Pilgrimage and Joyfulness

 

 

 

 

Whenever I walk on a pilgrimage, after several days of hiking in nature, my heart is filled with joy. Pilgrimage and joy belong together for me. This joy is like air stored deep down in the body bubbling up. The main source of this joy might be the wonder I see in the natural world, this world of justness. Out of this wonder comes gratitude for life. This gratitude embraces every experience.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Rocca  (castle) of Spoleto

 

 

 

The town Spoleto is built on a hill. Narrow streets and stairs lead up to the Rocca, a 14^th century castle that sits on the top like a hen on her chick. A certain melancholy hoovers over this town. Palazzos with crumbling, dark facades speak of past times. Many of the palazzos are empty.

 

 

 

 

 

 

One of the many streets of Spoleto

 

 

The Roman past is still visible in the amphitheater and other leftovers from Roman times.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Roman amphitheater

 

 

 

 

What I loved most in Spoleto was the 13^th century aqueduct Ponte delle Torre, which connects the 800-meter high mountain Monteluco with Spoleto.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

For centuries, the Ponte delle Torre was used as a walkway between Monteluco and Spoleto. It has been closed since the last earthquake.

 

 

 

I stayed for 2 nights in order to take a side trip up Monteluco, a mountain already considered sacred by the Romans. In the Lex Spoletina (214 BCE), they stated punishments for disturbing the forest.

 

The walk up to the top of the mountain was magical.  Oak trees covered up to their crowns by moss stood between moss-patched rocks, which gave the whole mountain a timeless appearance.

 

 

 

 

 

Walk up to Monteluco

 

 

 

 

 

 

Powerful oak tree covered by moss

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I stayed overnight in the guesthouse San Ponziano, a former Benedictine monastery. It is a huge complex outside of Spoleto with a Romanesque church. Unfortunately, the inside was modernized in the 17^th century. However, the crypt is a pure treasure.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Monastery San Ponziano

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Romanesque lion in front of San Ponziano

 

 

 

 

 

 

Crypt

 

 

The crypt is decorated with magnificent frescos.  One of the frescos looked like a huge eye and reminded me of Buddha’s wisdom eye on the stupas in Nepal.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Trinity painted by Maestro della Dormitio di Terni around 1400 CE

 

 

 

So far, I did not have any physical problems. This changed dramatically in Spoleto. Both legs cramped up and it felt as if different forces pulled my muscles and nerves in all directions. I was concerned – had I developed vein inflammation? I called my daughter, Susanne, in Phoenix, who is a medical doctor. Just rest your legs upwards, she said. If it does not change, call me again. The next day it was gone.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Duomo

 

 

In the Duomo Santa Maria Assunta, an original text written by St. Francis for his favorite disciple and constant companion, Leo, is displayed. It is one of only two original writings by St. Francis. Brother Leo was also his secretary.

 

One time, St. Francis asked Brother Leo to write down his thoughts about pure joy.  At about this time, St. Francis had been pushed aside from his own order, that he himself had founded – his strict rules of poverty were rejected. In his dictation, St. Francis mentioned scenarios that were impossible to reach – like converting every Muslim to Christianity. Even that, he said, would not be pure joy. Pure joy does not vanish when one faces the most severe situations – like being chased away in the middle of the night in winter – hungry, freezing, sick, called unworthy, dirty, and stupid – by one’s own brothers when asking for shelter. Being chased away and still keeping a mind of equanimity and patience, not being reactive – this is pure joy!

 

 

 

 

 

 

During my pilgrimages, the joy I felt was the joy of being alive. It was a bodily feeling caused by the state of mind I was in.  Gratefulness for life, equanimity, and living in the present moment were probably the most important factors. The joy came naturally and organically just by walking in nature.

 

Life is very different during quarantine. I train my mind to consciously cultivate gratitude, to practice non-reactivity and kindness, and to be careful not to fall into a routine, where the freshness of the moment is swallowed up by habitual ways of doing things. I consider this time a perfect practice ground, in order to live a joyful life every moment of my life.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

(9)

Pilgrim as refugee

 

A pilgrim leaves the familiar behind and goes to places that are transient. On a pilgrimage, the pilgrim constantly arrives and leaves again. It is like the breath – breathing in and breathing out. In this sense, the pilgrim is a refugee – always moving.

 

When everything is constantly changing, where can the pilgrim find refuge? Suzuki Roshi compared the breath to a swinging door that moves when we inhale and exhale. He said “When your mind is pure and calm enough to follow this movement, there is nothing: no ‘I,’ no world, no mind nor body; just a swinging door.”

 

A pilgrimage is a journey to discover our vast awareness, the original nature. When unpleasant and difficult situations arise, it forces the pilgrim to maintain awareness. In this way, purification of body and mind happens organically.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapel of Eremi delle Carceri

 

 

 

 

 

 

Inner court of Eremo delle Carceri

 

I left Assisi through the Porta del Capuccini, the highest point of the city, and continued on a steep path up to the hermitage Eremo delle Carceri. Although I had been there before, I walked again through the woods, discovering caves and breathing in this wild, untamed nature. I especially love a statue of St. Francis lying on his back watching the night sky. In this posture, he expressed for me the state of mind Suzuki Roshi was talking about.

 

 

 

 

 

 

St. Francis looking up to the night sky

 

 

From the hermitage the path went up to the over 3000-foot high Monte Subasio. I was lucky that the weather was gorgeous.

 

 

 

 

 

View from the top of Monte Subasio down to Assisi

 

 

 

 

 

Monte Subasio

 

 

My goal for the day was Spello, a picturesque town I had also visited before. I was looking forward to staying there and had reserved a bed in the convent. The convent was farther away from the town than I had thought. There was only one entrance – a huge metal sliding gate. After ringing the doorbell, I was let in by an unfriendly person. The gate immediately closed behind me. I did not get any key to get out again and stood in a courtyard with some trees and a lot of cats. After waiting for a while, I was led through a cluttered room to my room, which hit me with the smell of cat urine. My aversion grew from minute to minute. What should I do? Should I accept my aversion and not be picky? It was late! Finally, I decided to look on booking.com for another place. I was successful and escaped. I still feel good about this decision. St. Francis would have stayed – but I am not a saint.

 

 

 

 

 

A street in Spello

 

 

 

 

 

 

A house in Spello

 

 

The next two days were beautiful. I passed the town Foligno and saw the Cathedral in front of which St. Francis had sold all his belongings.

 

I spent the next night in Trevi. The town was as picturesque as Spello.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Morning view of Trevi

 

 

Powerful thunderstorms swept over the country during the night and left their marks on olive trees full of little water pearls. I was in awe of the olive trees whose trunks were overgrown with moss sparkling in their freshness. The countryside between Trevi and Spoleto seemed to be one big olive orchard.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Olive tree with moss covered roots

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

At one point, the yellow Tau pointed to an asphalt road. However, another marker showed the way through olive orchards. Like so often in the past, the different ways join together somewhere and I decided to walk the more beautiful way in nature. After walking for quite a while, no yellow marker showed up. Several thunderstorms formed in the huge valley and I decided to study my tiny map in the book. This time, I made the wrong choice! I would have needed an additional day to reach Spoleto. What should I do? Should I return or continue and hope to find a place where I can stay overnight?

 

In this moment of total uncertainty, with several approaching thunderstorms over my head, I suddenly saw a public bus stopped in the middle of a tiny road in between two houses. It showed SPOLETO in big, capital letters. The bus driver was chatting with a man on the street. I could not believe it! I rushed to the bus! Not a single person was sitting in it! To be sure, I asked the driver if he was going to Spoleto. He was! Rain was hitting the windows of the bus when we travel ed from village to village. Not one other person ever entered the bus. I was so grateful that I did not have to walk in thunderstorms not knowing where to sleep

 

 

 

 

 

On a street like this, the bus to Spoleto appeared

 

 

During quarantine, the challenge for me is to remember that I am a refugee living in a transient world. What pretends to be a safe haven – family, friends, home, books, and bank account and innumerable other things, all those things do not provide ultimate safety. I believe the only true safety is awareness itself – this vast, boundless, limitless space from where everything comes into existence in its justness.  Every difficulty helps me to wake up to this reality. By keeping this intention of waking up, not a moment is wasted. Especially now, when life so much slowed down, I have the possibility to train my mind during zazen and throughout the day. Maybe a poem by Tongshan is better expressing it than my words.

 

The blue mountain is the father of the white cloud.
The white cloud is the son of the blue mountain.
All day long they depend on each other, without being dependent on each other.
The white cloud is always the white cloud.
The blue mountain is always the blue mountain.

-Zen Master Dongshan Lianjie

 

 

(8)

Pilgrimage and the Mind of Simplicity

 

 

A pilgrimage is a way to discover who I am. My most important intention is to discover my inner physical and mental landscape. I want to see the narrow confinements of who I think I am and see and experience things as they really are. In order to do that, I need simplicity.

 

Simplicity starts by taking only the most essential things with me on my pilgrimages. However, mental simplicity is even more important. Suzuki Roshi once said “don’t invite your thoughts to tea.” It is a paradox. On the one hand, it is important to allow whatever is in front of me to arise. The next step, however, is to let it go. So, whom do I invite for tea? For me, it is kindness and compassion. Kindness and compassion are the guests I want to invite and serve tea to as a host. I know I have a long way to go.

 

 

 

 

 

Assisi from the distance

 

 

 

 

Walk through the forest up to Assisi

 

 

When I walked up to the town of Assisi, I had chosen a path through the Selva di Franceso, a natural stretch of a forest very similar to the forest of St. Francis’s time. Larks and other birds were singing. Larks were the favorite birds of St. Francis. The steps up the mountain reminded me of my Shikoku pilgrimage, where I walked on innumerable steps up to mountain temples.

 

I was amazed that the natural beauty was so close to town. The path ended abruptly in front of the 14^th century city wall. There was one door. I opened it.

 

 

 

 

Basilica San Francesco with the statue of St. Francis as a knight

 

 

 

To my big surprise, the famous Basilica San Francesco lay in front of my eyes. The afternoon sun was fully illuminating this imposing building. It is the place where St. Francis is buried.  Just minutes ago, I had read a story written by an anonymous author in the 13^th century. In this story, Madonna Poverta asked the Franciscan friars to show her their cloister. They took her to the summit of a hill overlooking the Umbrian countryside and said to her “this is our cloister, Lady Poverty.” For St. Francis, nature was his church.

 

 

 

 

 

 

His message is very similar to the words of the Dalai Lama expressed in his book “Ethics for the New Millennium,” printed in 1999. He says his simple faith, his true religion, are love and compassion. He continues, “in this sense, there is no need for temple or church, for mosque of synagogue, no need for complicated philosophy, doctrine, or dogma. Our own heart, our own mind, is the temple.”

 

 

 

 

 

Entrance to the lower church, where St. Francis is buried

 

 

 

Simplicity and poverty were of crucial importance to St. Francis. He did not want huge churches, cloisters, and institutions. What a paradox! Having incredible compassion for the outcasts, the sick, the criminals, he asked to be buried on the place where executions were performed, on Calle dell’Inferon, hill of hell. It was the lowest place of Assisi and also the lowest place of society. His last will was followed, but a huge church and monastery were built on this place. The Hill of Hell was transformed into the Hill of Paradise. Giotto and other famous painters decorated the upper and lower church.

 

 

 

 

 

 

View to the complex of Basilica San Francesco and monastery

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Upper church with frescos by Giotto di Bondone

 

 

 

 

 

St. Francis and his calling to renovate the deteriorated church

 

 

I went straight down the slope to the church in order to see the frescos. They are truly spectacular in their freshness and mastery.  Then I followed the walk down into the lower church and then even lower to the crypt, where St. Francis is buried. His tomb felt like a huge, massive rock surrounded by little chapels.  I remembered the time when I visited the Basilica with my six-year-old granddaughter, Annabella. There is a place where visitors can write down a wish and send it to St. Francis. I asked her if she had a wish. She said, “please tell St. Francis that I will come again!” Her simple answer touched me.

 

 

I could only stay in Assisi for two nights, since every hotel was booked because of a big conference. Many places I had seen before and I visited them again. I loved strolling through the city without a plan and just let the atmosphere sink in. There were many tourists, many shops, and many cafes and restaurants – a bit overwhelming after so many days of solitude.

 

 

 

 

 

The rooftops of Assisi seen from the castle area

 

 

 

 

 

 

Piazza del Comune

 

 

 

 

Façade of the Roman temple of Minerva at the Piazza del Comune

It was transformed into a church in the 16^th century.

 

 

 

 

 

A relief on one of the house facades

 

 

Living in quarantine means, for me, living a simple life. I enjoy not having to think about what to wear but simply just choose the most comfortable clothing. Like on a pilgrimage, time becomes more fluid and is not so much controlled by the clock. Strangely enough, days pass faster than ever. I want to use them well.

 

However, the time of quarantine offers big temptations for the mind by the virtual world. The outside world comes into my small space of quarantine via news, interesting podcasts, free classes and courses. I have to remind myself over and over that this is not life; life in its justness is experiencing the world as it is right now. I can let the news pass through me and not identify with it – not let it settle in my innermost place, my heart.

 

For me, the most important question is what makes my heart sing.  Every day, I am reminded of that question by a painting hanging over my little altar.  My daughter Susanne painted it with her daughter, Annabella, as a Christmas present for me. In a yellow circle, a series of green-blue hearts become smaller and smaller until an absolutely tiny pink heart is left in the center.  Before my morning meditation, I connect with this tiny, innermost heart. It reminds me that the most important thing in my life is to have an open heart.