Different way to measure
A week ago, while touring the awe-inspiring Porto Cathedral—“born” in the 12th century, and rebuilt and renovated numerous times throughout the centuries, now an elegant mixture of architectural styles—a woman is vacuuming, between and under the pews. The Cathedral is full of visitors (tourists). And the sound, the noise, of the vacuum fills the air. I smile big, for this is the perfect metaphor. The gift of beauty, the gift of the sacred, the gift of being present, even in a world where interruption (clamor) is real, and not to be denied.
And I eavesdropped on a couple of tourists (eavesdropping is one of my spiritual gifts). A couple walking, looking at the guidebook on their phone, him saying to her, “We should figure out how to do this tour in the right order. I don’t think we’re doing this right.”
Yes, another big smile.
And I can really relate. After all, what should we do first or second or third? And what if we’re going about this in the wrong order?
In my travel for work, people would often ask, “Did you have a successful trip?”
“I’m certain I did,” I tell them. Although truth be told, I don’t always know.
That memory comes back to me on this Camino journey. And I’m very aware that there is some kind of pegboard in our heads where we hang our worth or value. The one about “success”. And it’s too easy to get worked up about finding the right peg. And I’ll tell you what; that peg board is hard to disregard and leave behind.
Here’s what I know: Life seems to ignore the script we have in our mind.
But this is also true: when that happens, we walk. We walk toward, or we walk away. Either way, we begin a journey—a pilgrimage to find or restore or forgive or heal, or to forget or bury; or perhaps, just to have the deck of our world shuffled.
And gratefully, a Camino walk is a good reminder.
Its wisdom calls me daily to pick up my pack and march on. To trust, find beauty, and to be vulnerable. To share pain, joy, and connection. To, with practice, patience (lots of patience), faith, and grace, continue walking.
So. Sometimes we need a different way to measure what really matters.
This brings to mind my mentor, Lew Smedes’ reminder, “Gratitude dances though the open windows of our hearts. We cannot force it. We cannot create it. And we can certainly close our windows to keep it out. But we can also keep them open and be ready for the joy when it comes.”
Living one open window at a time.
I once did a workshop where I asked the participants to describe life. One woman said, “Life is so… life is so… life is so… daily.”
Yes. She’s right. And that is the secret.
The miracle is that there need not be a miracle—just a slow drip of experience. Being mindful of small things; the ordinary is the hiding place for the holy.
Places where we are able to receive. And places from which we give: wholeheartedness, joy, grief, compassion, sorrow, kindness, grace, forgiveness, gladness. And until I understand that truth (until I take it to heart), I miss the point.
Or, in the words of William Kittredge, “Moments when nothing happened. What sweet nothing.”
In other words, we don’t run from the moment (even moments that unnerve and distress).
We don’t suffocate the moment with stuff (physical and mental).
We don’t sanitize the moment with platitudes.
We sit. We listen. We look. We taste. We smell. We see.
We look for the light of God in the most ordinary, and even the most dull, of contexts.
(I know that I preordain, when I hope or try to orchestrate, rather than just experience. I also know that whether it is, experience or relationship or liturgy or prayer or meditation or Camino, if you don’t bring it with you, you’re not going to find it there.)
When a young girl in an African village heard that her visiting teacher would be leaving their village, she wanted to give her a special gift. The girl didn’t have any money to buy a present for her teacher, but finally she decided what she would do.
She was gone for two days and when she returned, she was carrying the most exquisite shell anyone in her village had ever seen. Her teacher was amazed. “Where did you find such a beautiful shell?” she asked. The child told her that such shells were found only on a certain faraway beach.
The teacher was deeply touched, because she knew that the girl had walked many miles to find the shell. “Why, it’s wonderful, but you shouldn’t have gone all that way to get a gift for me.”
Her eyes brightening, the girl smiled and answered, “Long walk part of gift.”
Yes. And amen.
On my Camino, I am carrying Mary Oliver’s invitation with me, “Pay attention, be astonished, tell about it.” This is what grows in the soil of gratitude.
The permission to unpack. To let go of the messages that cling, or that scroll through, unquestioned. Such as keeping pace, “Am I falling behind?” “Am I getting there on time?”
On this journey, I’m grateful for the moments every day (well, the moments when my backpack doesn’t feel too heavy), when I pause, and say, “Looook.”
The expanse of the beach and water, and occasional charmed Calla lily bloom.
Thank you for being a part of Sabbath Moment. And I am grateful that we continue to walk one another home.
I write this on a sunny day, looking out over the Atlantic Ocean. I’ve tried talking with the gulls, but they seem indifferent.
Our Camino quote…
“Above all, do not lose your desire to walk. Everyday, I walk myself into a state of well-being and walk away from every illness. I have walked myself into my best thoughts, and I know of no thought so burdensome that one cannot walk away from it.” Søren Kierkegaard
BULLETIN BOARD
Today’s Photo Credit: Along the Portuguese coastal Camino, it is stopped to pause now and again, when the view says, “check this out”… Thank you to all, I love your photos… please keep sending them… send to terryhershey.com
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Letters that do my heart good…
–Hi Terry, My husband Jim and I just returned from walking part of the Camino Frances and it was a wonderful, spiritual experience. I will be praying for you as you walk the Portuguese Camino. May you be surprised by God over and over… Buen Camino, Cathy
–Thank you, Terry, for your words that uplifted my spirit today. I pray the Camino will bring you peace, encounters with joy, a presence of Christ, and balm for your soul. Bon Camino! May you see the light, go to the light and be the light to the pilgrims on the way. Margaret
–Terry, Buen Camino! My wife and I walked the Frances route in the spring of 2018 and the Portuguese route in the fall of 2019. Blessings on your journey. Life at 3 miles an hour (or less) is a much more human pace and scale. Jesse
–Terry, We send you prayers for a blessed journey. May your feet be blister-fee, your days full of good memories and your night times full of restful sleep. God bless you. Pat and Cathy
–My wife and I walked the Camino in 2016. It is still fresh in our hearts. A piece of advice that I received prior to walking was to pray about one person an entire day. The results were amazing. Buen Camino, Bob
–Terry, Enjoy the camino. You can do it. Savor each moment. I sent you a picture of a chicken 7 years ago when I walked my camino. I know you will enjoy every moment. God will be with you more than you can possibly imagine. Buen camino! Jeanna
–Buen Camino Terry! We did the Portuguese Camino in September and it was amazing! Good days and bad days but the people and the scenery were very much worth it. Expect nothing and you will reap much. I look forward to hearing about it! Your friend, Ursula
–Good Monday morning! I am so happy that you are going to be a pilgrim on the Camino. It’s something I’d love to do, too. God bless you and please keep us up to date as you walk that beautiful path! Mary Eileen
POEMS AND PRAYERS
Pilgrim God,
our shoes are filled with stones,
our feet are blistered and bleeding,
our faces are stained with tears.
As we stumble and fall
may we know your presence
in the bleeding and in the tears
and in the healing
and the laughter of our pilgrimage.
Kate McIhagga
Pilgrim’s Prayer
Dear God,
We ask your blessing as we travel today in spirit;
Guide our minds as we learn of those who came before us, traversing the pilgrim way.
Give us a hunger to seek your face in paths through fields,
along roads trod by many seeking the blessing of your presence.
Nurture our fellowship
And help us to see each other as a brother or sister
Sharing the journey to your blessed kingdom.
Amen.
Nineveh Murray
