How does one summarize a pilgrimage? In a way, it feels a bit like cheating to even try to do so.
I can (and will) talk about what it did for me personally, although you must be warned that the deepest things it did for me will probably go unmentioned. I can talk about what I remember about the landscape, or the food, or the company, or the weather, but here I warn you again that I do not remember it to any satisfying degree of detail or interest. I can talk about where my mind went during the long walks, which songs I sang and which Bible verses I meditated on.
But all this does not really summarize the pilgrimage. My temptation is to tell people, "go do your own." The real meaning of a pilgrimage can't be put in words, but the experience itself is freely available to practically everyone who really wants to try it.
I heard that Beethoven was once asked what one of his pieces "meant", and as a reply he sat down and played it again.
Walking for 40 days proved a very therapeutic experience. We all know that even a day's nature walk can be a good brain massage, but somewhere between Day 5 and Day 20 the "nature walk" became my routine mode of existence. It was no longer a distraction from everyday life; it was everyday life. This meant, of course, that the novelty wore off. But it also meant that the scattered thoughts which briefly inspire you during a nature walk were given a chance to burrow much deeper into the fog of my mind. "Revealing" is a good word for what they did.
I was told that when you start working out, it takes several weeks before the muscles themselves actually start growing. Until then, the exercise mostly helps your body to adjust and fine-tune itself. While this does also increase your strength, it is not until after this phase that actual muscle growth begins.
Maybe the best way to introduce a series of pilgrim meditations is by answering the frequently asked questions. Most people ask me what I learned, and to answer with "a lot" seems unfair, so here's a few specific lessons:
-One fault in my character can influence the most diverse and unrelated areas of my life. Maybe this is just another way of saying that the most unrelated areas of my life are in fact related.
-Prayer is the dialogue that takes place in the deepest parts of the soul. This means, for one thing, that no one can really say of themselves that they aren't into prayer, although most of us are out of touch with our prayers. It also means (and this surprised me) that our prayer is frequently the opposite of what we think it is.
-Sometimes we think we need less of something when we really need more. For example, you'd think that to be truly impartial you need to have as little team loyalty as possible, but it turns out that you can't be impartial unless you have a very high team loyalty -- only it can't be to either of the parties you're adjudicating between.
-Sometimes the same disease has opposite symptoms, and opposite diseases have the same symptoms. Low blood sugar sometimes manifests itself in the same way as high blood sugar, and compulsive overeating may have the same disorder at its root as compulsive self-starvation. OK, this is a no-brainer, but when you first find out that in your own life you've been going the wrong way because of a misdiagnosis of this nature, you feel that you've learned this for the first time.
-I learned again that most of my questions don't need answering; they need to be lived with in peace. I also learned that there is very little I can do to achieve that, but that's OK because if I could do these things, what the heck would I need Jesus for?
Maybe I could have learned these things without a pilgrimage, but why do it the hard way?
I walked. That's the long and short of it. I walked through rain and fog and blazing sunlight, and sometimes at night. I walked on grass, mud, asphalt, ancient Roman cobblestone roads; through cities, eucalyptus forests, cow pastures, beaches, mountain passes, abandoned towns, and plenty of tiny villages; I walked when I was feeling happy and light, I walked when I was in screaming pain. I walked with others, I walked alone.
You get the idea.
Since I didn't have reliable means to cook my food, I ate mostly what could go directly from my hand to my mouth, without first having to be cooked or whatever. This made for a bit of monotony and a bit of frustration.
I did less research than any pilgrim I met along the way, and as a result got to do more improvising. Also got lost more often.
I thought I was doing some serious damage to my body. My back seemed to be straining in unnatural ways under the lopsided weight of my improvised backpack, and my walking posture became so unhealthy-looking that many people commented on it. But in the end, my masseuse said that the long walk did wonders for my back and for my nerves.
This is an extremely clumsy summary of my pilgrim voyage. I think it would be summarized much better in the four words I already used: "Go do your own."
