Day 19: Glendalough to Austin

Day 19: Glendalough to Austin

It started several days prior to the morning of our departure; the sadness crept into my stomach and moved up to clinch my throat until finally my body needed to release the knots through quivering lips and streams of tears. My heaving sadness had been presenting itself here and there but the night before we left it was on full display. After toasting our vow renewal and sharing stories of how Rob and I met, I looked around the table and was struck with grief that this leg of my pilgrimage would be closing. I was advised to feel as sad as I possibly could. So, I did.

The morning we left, I was still sad but the grief was mixed with a feeling of fullness; fullness from the love of our group, fullness of gratitude for having the time and resources to have had this experience and anticipatory fullness of being able to see our children. It’s funny how sadness can be mixed with hope and excitement.

By the time we saw our kids we had been awake close to 24 hours. I was exhausted and happy. They had so many stories to tell us and we had so much to share with them. I felt whole and wonderful with them snuggled around me.  What a great way to end my very long day.

Something changes internally while on pilgrimage. I have a sense that life will not be the same and the apprehension this causes is outweighed by the potential of newness. I am left wondering how to renegotiate this new, “normal.” I noticed when I saw our children that they too had been changed through their own pilgrimages. They interacted slightly differently with each other. They seemed more cohesive and separate from Rob and me. I think this is the best gift I could be given as a mother because they will need the support of each other as Rob and I age and die. I am sure they will also need time to renegotiate their new, “normal” as well. I can’t wait to see how they do it.

Day 18: St. Brigid

Day 18: St. Brigid

When we completed our walk of the Wicklow Way, two of our fellow travelers departed and three others joined us to begin a different sort of pilgrimage. Our days in Glendalough were spent participating in a spiritual retreat called Sacred Cauldron. I knew several of the participants very well but some were new friends. There is something seemingly magical when a group of people come together and thoughtfully engage with one another at a deeper level. This group in particular was quickly able to be vulnerable, tell stories, laugh and cry with each other. The group facilitators made us feel safe and it was apparent that we all felt held in a sacred space.

Our group went a field trip of sorts and visited the city of Kildare. This is where St. Brigid, one of Ireland’s patron saints, began her monastic community.  We were able to enjoy the first part of the day exploring the St. Brigid’s church, tower and fire pit. After lunch, we went to Solas Bhride Centre, an amazing new building with programs focused on linking the legacy of St. Brigid to our modern culture. The building itself was incredible with open, clean spaces for education, talks, meditation and prayer. It was awarded for its ecologically friendly design and construction. The space reminded me of what I might think of heaven being, if heaven had buildings. It even had a cafe!

Our final stop was St. Brigid’s well. Our group milled around the grounds quietly offering prayers, blessing spiritual tokens and soaking up the holy space. I knelt at the well and immersed four items: a rosary from Jerusalem recently given to me by a dear friend, a brass Ganesh from one of my soul friends, a sheep’s tooth I found on my last pilgrimage and a string of wooden prayer beads from a Goddess church that used to belong to one of my mentors. As I blessed them in the small pool of water I realized they perfectly represent my spirituality at this point in my life. My Christian roots anchor me, I am enriched by engaging in interfaith practices, I am inextricably linked to the earth and all creation, and finally as a woman I appreciate my own feminine gifts and power as I try my best to be a meaningful mentor to other women.  I hope St. Brigid would approve.

Days 16 & 17: Glendalough

Days 16 & 17: Glendalough

Glendalough is an ancient medieval monastic city situated in a gorgeous glacial valley. The ruins of the city are well preserved, as is much of the cemetery that surrounds and intermingles with the stone structures. St. Kevin founded this monastery at some point in the 6^th century.

St. Kevin had given his life to God. He lived bouncing between a stone beehive structure on a ledge overlooking the Upper Lake of Glendalough and in a cave also over looking this body of water. St. Kevin, as most saints, was kind of a strange dude. There are stories of him standing in the icy cold lake up to his neck and praying for hours. And as legend has it, a woman who was in love with him (supposedly he loved her too, but wait for the end of the story and you be the judge) made romantic advances toward him and his response was to throw himself into a bed of nettles and then beat his would be lover back with nettle branches. Like I said, a weird dude.

It is also said that St. Kevin befriended a monster from one of the two lakes in the city. Some have wondered if this befriending of a monster was metaphorical to embracing or accepting his dark side. So, ultimately accepting his strangeness or perhaps his humanness. This is why I love stories about saints because they are hardly ever what we commonly think of as saintly. I love that the stories of saints challenge the concept that a holy person must be pious, as it is my experience that piety is the enemy of holiness.  

Day 15 Roundwood to Glendalough

Day 15: Roundwood to Glendalough

While walking in a group, as in life, there can be irritations. Conversations can be become dull, others might not keep your same pace, and fellow walkers might not be in the same space psychically that you are.  After a few days of walking, personalities can become stale and peoples' elevator speeches can become annoyingly redundant. In fact it is even possible to become sick of your own thoughts and the endless loop that our minds create. As frustrating as it might be at the time, it is all part of the pilgrimage experience. 

I didn't want the walk to end. My intention was to slow my pace, look around, take pictures and soak up the final day of the journey. I had walked this trail before and I knew it was relatively short. I knew we had plenty of time and that if I didn't slow down, I would regret it. Perhaps it was my own perception that the walk seemed hurried. Maybe in relation to the long previous day there was no way around feeling the quick pace of this leg of the trip. 

I made a point to create space from others knowing that I need time alone so that I may function slightly more optimally. I found myself needing time with my own thoughts and to be able to hear my owns ideas instead of those of the other pilgrims. Again, I did my best to create the space I felt I needed. 

No matter how much I slowed down or wished for the journey to continue, inevitably it had to come to a close. All things must eventually end. 

Day 14: Knockree to Roundwood

Day 14: Knockree to Roundwood

Today was the longest day of the walk. We ticked off just over 16 miles through mountains, forests and open plains. Three years ago I approached this leg of the journey with fear and uncertainty, this time I had some trepidation but was feeling relaxed and confident as we started out. I knew it would be a long day, I knew it would be difficult and I knew there was no way around it if I wanted to get to a meal and a bed waiting for us in Roundwood. 

I had promised myself that I would not rush this time, I made an intention to enjoy the day and not wish for it to be over and to be present to the experience moment by moment. I am happy to say I was for the most part able to follow through on this plan. However, I found myself at times estimating the hours or miles left to go. Then my thoughts would turn impatient and wanting the walk to end so I could shower and drink a Guinness. I realized when I started wishing the time away I might not ever be back in those mountains again and that this experience, even if repeated, would never look or feel the same. 

Looking back at my life to this point, I can think of so many times I wished the moments would just be over or that time would fast forward. I wonder if this is why most parents of older children talk about how raising kids, "just goes so fast" or why 25th high school reunions seem to be here before we know it. I look back and wonder how I could possibly have been married for 20 years. How much of life have I not paid attention to? What have I missed, if anything? Is this just the nature of life, over before we know it? What do I need to work on to be able to look back in 20, 30, 40 years and feel as though I was aware of my life and not wishing it away? 

Maybe I should remind myself there is no Guinness at the end of this life, or maybe there is.

Day 13: Dublin to Knockree

Day 13: Dublin to Knockree

The walk began as it did three years ago. We assembled in Marley Park on the south side of Dublin. Seven of us walking this time; three of us the same as last. Pictures were taken and blessings made: The same as last time. But this was nothing like the first time for me, not internally anyway. 

Over the last three years, my experience of my initial pilgrimage has worked to shape me in ways I couldn't have expected and I continue to have a difficult time describing. The 2014 walk came at a time in my life when I was just starting to taste the results of my spiritual, emotional and mental work. I could feel that my efforts were starting to net transformation but I was still in the throws of what some call the, "alchemist's fire." Waiting to feel golden while hoping to not be consumed by the flames. 

On the first walk I was irritated the morning we started and wondered why I had agreed to go along. I really thought I'd made a mistake. I wanted to be home with Rob and the kids and not off on a 100 mile walk through the hills of Ireland with the potential of getting wet, cold and possibly more irritated. I was determined to live through my mistake and do what I could with my decision. 

When the last hike was over, I truly didn't know what hit me. I felt the bottom had been pulled out from under me but wasn't sure what the bottom was. In those months after our return from pilgrimage I struggled to make sense of the mix of pride at finishing such a long walk, anger at what I still thought might have been a mistake and sense of emptiness and disappointment. Yet amongst these feelings I sensed that something was coming together within my soul. A feeling of okay-ness, of potential for a richer life and glimpses of what being more integrated might look like started taking hold. 

The work continued and for the past two years during my spiritual direction training program I felt that this glimpse of transformation was coming into full view. Today, I could see, feel and sense the effects of the pilgrimage process. I was happy to start the walk this time and I don't think I have made a mistake, well not yet anyway. The 12 miles today went quickly and I'm interested to see what tomorrow brings.

Day 12: Belfast to Dublin

Day 12: Belfast to Dublin

Three years ago Rob, the kids and I traveled to Guanajuato, Mexico on a family pilgrimage of sorts. We were captivated by the city and knew we wanted to learn as much as we could about it. We thought the best way to do this was to hire a tour guide who could get us informed and acclimated to the town. We found Augustine. He was an older gentleman who walked with a limp and had a little difficulty touring us around by foot. So, on the second a day of the tour he picked us up in a Volkswagon minivan. This was much easier. He drove us all around town until we entered a roundabout and I started smelling burnt plastic. Alas, the van was on fire and we had to exit onto the median until we could make our way across the street for some cokes and chips. Our tour continued on the city bus.

Yesterday after we arrived at our train station we made our way to the pick up area and were met shortly by Martin our tour guide. He pulled up in a Volkswagon minivan. Rob remarked, "I hope this one doesn't catch on fire." We headed out to begin exploring County Meath and the sights were really incredible. After having visited Newgrange, Monasterboice, and Slane Castle we made our way to the Hill of Tara. The views were breathtaking on this beautiful day and Rob and I got to touch the stone of destiny and have our picture taken with St. Patrick. On our way to Trim Castle (also know as the castle in the movie Braveheart) as we headed down a narrow road, another car heading in the opposite direction came toward us. Our driver moved as far to the left as he could and then a, "pop!" "Uh, I think you have flat tire" Rob, half chuckling from the backseat, said. A few yards later we were in a median and broken down. 

I try to attribute some meaning to these kinds of parallel stories but honestly I just think they are funny stories that are enjoyable to tell and at times enjoyable to listen to. Stories for stories sake. And perhaps that is the meaning.