Sacred spaces

There are moments where many people from very different lives suddenly find themselves in emotional unity, in harmony, with hearts beating together. The distances between them can be short or they can span around the world. This week many experienced one of these moments as we saw a well-known Roman Catholic cathedral, the Cathedral of Notre Dame in Paris, burn in flames.

It is entirely predictable that the French Roman Catholics were moved. It's part of the national identity. It's also very understandable that Roman Catholics around the world were touched by the unfolding tragedy. There are the many Francophiles around the world who are deeply saddened. Architect lovers. Historians. Many different peoples who would have been shocked by the fire.

It feels like a wide range of people were emotionally touched by this fire. It makes me appreciate the human need for beautiful places, quiet spots, sacred spaces. To some, such a space might be a cathedral. To others, a small chapel. To many I know, it could be in the wild country, the mountains, their garden. And to some, it could be a yoga mat, or window where the sunlight warms you as you sit quietly.

We all can be inspired by art or by music, by simple walls or by silence. These places and visions, scents and touches have a way of reaching deep into ourselves, giving us grace to think, to connect, to process. They also are highly personal. What works for me may not work for people close to me, even my own spouse. And that's ok. What resonates within us is part of our unique being.

To each of us, these places are special; they are sacred. They are sacred not because of a label or certificate, but because we consecrate them with our love and our intimacy with Creation and our Creator when we are there.

They are where we are invited to discover ourselves, see ourselves, be ourselves. They are where our core being floats to the surface, able to breathe in the air of life. We all need these places because our longing, our life energy, depends on a fertile ground to grow. Sacred spaces make space in our hearts and minds to discover the sacred within.

What if those places become destroyed, burned, and hidden? What if we move away? Are these places any less sacred? Are we bereft of the sacred when this happens?

All things return to dust. We certainly do. And special places cannot escape this truth of this world. It doesn't mean that we who remain behind cannot find meaning in the ashes. We can build ourselves a new space. We can give new life to a new place that in return gives life to us. We ourselves make a place sacred by discovering how that spot, that room, that wild open countryside changes us, reshaping us, reminding us of who we are.

Some places, like the Cathedral of Our Lady of Paris, were not on my radar as a sacred place to me. I didn't understand my emotional response. But when I looked inside, I had subconsciously found in those aged stones a foundation for my journeys. I began my backpacking journey through Europe, my first visit, as a college student. I attended daily mass there on various trips, by myself, with my parents, my ex, my husband, my nephews. I started my Taize pilgrimage from that Cathedral. I started my Camino from Lourdes to Santiago de Compostela by first visiting this Cathedral. I listened to the bells all night long -- every night -- on my last visit to the cathedral, as my AirBnB was a block away. I didn't intend to do so, but I had consecrated the cathedral because she invited me to share these special journeys with her.

What places have you 

intentionally or unintentionally 

made sacred with your love and presence?

May we always remember those places which invite us to feel alive, and may we be privileged to return to those places as often as we need.  In these sacred spaces, we are blessed by merely being present and we become one with the blessing that unites us all.

Angels By Our Side

I'm often asked about what I discover while walking along Spain's Camino de Santiago. I say that it's the people I meet that show me what I seek. It's not about me, my thoughts, the flowers, or sights. I learn and grow because of the relationships, short or long-lasting. The universe calms you on the walk and in the wild, quiets you down so that you can really meet people and listen to them, be present with them. And in doing so, well, in doing so that's really how I feel like I'm in touch with God.

In the 600 mile walk in 2016, besides my husband Stephen who joined me on the final 200 miles, I can say that I found three people who most influenced me. Three people who I view as messengers in my life. Angels really.

The first came to me during my most fearful moments in decades. I held back tears and panic because I was afraid that I would die of exposure while crossing the Pyrenees. I thought I had such good fortune because just when I thought, with the hot temperatures, my hyperextended hip could not get me over the mountains, I saw a luggage transport van which took my backpack to my destination. Unfortunately, in my haste, I grabbed almost everything I needed for the daypack I retained, everything except my jacket. As the clouds came, the temperature plunged, the rains attacked, and painful hail poured down for two hours, shredding my poncho and leaving me basically with just my daypack and quick-dry T-shirt. I could barely see past the fog and my steam-covered eyeglasses, where the trail twisted and where the cliffs threatened.

A figure came from behind me. I only saw his chin peeking out from his hat, a chin where my immediate reaction was "Oh, looks like the guy who starred in Jesus Christ Superstar". He asked me in an accent how I was and I responded with "cold, frightened." This young man just smiled, saying "You'll be fine. Where are you going?" I answered "To Roncesvalles (on the other side of the Pyrenees Mountains 15km away)". Calmly smiling, he said, "I'll see you on the other side" and continued walking into the foggy hail. For some reason, this was weirdly re-assuring. Better yet, he wore a fluorescent red poncho, a colour so bright that I could actually see it through the fog and follow him along the unseen trail. I followed the young man into the swirling fog and hail, somehow comforted, somehow feeling safe, somehow confident. I wept as the hail stopped and I made it to the monastery which would house me, skipped dinner, and just slept.

I was back on the trail the next morning when someone placed a hand on my shoulder. I turned to see him once again, and he said that he knew I would make it. We smiled and he walked with me the whole day. We broke bread together on a mountain top. When I found out that his name was Thore, after the Norse God of storms and protection, my jaw dropped.

The next person who deeply touched me appeared after Pamplona. I had been upset and fearful that my blisters, earned from wet feet and the struggle over the Pyrenees, would impair me. For now, I was doing better. And I came across a person who simply radiated love. In fact, almost every person who ever met Daniel from Oxford described his intensely caring eyes and his beautiful affection for everyone he met. He was astonishingly humble, touching almost everyone he met. We talked and walked all day, breaking bread at dinner and the next day at breakfast. He was thrilled that I started in Lourdes and had some of the water that some say is filled with miraculous healing power. I brought the water to share with those on the Camino. He took a sip and I rubbed some into his hands.

And he did this while walking on crutches. You didn't notice them after you talked with him; you stopped seeing his bruised hands and feet. The reality was that his life-long condition slowed him down to just over 1-2 mph and it would take him three months to reach Santiago, three times longer than most. I can't imagine how he navigated the muddy, rocky slopes of the various mountains we crossed. When asked why he was on the Camino, he would respond "so that every day I can learn to walk." But he inspired such care in others, as we all cared for him. After evening church services, I lost track of him even though he had been beside me. I found him: he was giving alms to a needy man and asking if he had a place to sleep.

He embodied so comfortably, so easily, the unconditional love of the universe. Despite his challenges, he feared not. Yes, I shared the healing waters with him, and in his presence, I myself felt healed. Like St Francis' prayer, I saw us both receiving when we were giving... And every day, I learned to walk.

A third person who touched me was a deeply spiritual professor from Hungary. She was a talker and lit up every conversation. Annamarie speaks 7 languages fluently and showed deep caring about all she met. Soon after she checked into any albergue, she'd be leading yoga with anyone interested. At every stream she found, off came her shoes and socks, and up came her trouser legs. Wading into the rather cold waters, she'd laugh and thank nature, God, the universe and invite others to wade in with her. Despite my blisters, I would accept her invitation and wade in - albeit briefly - just to share in the invigorating joy of waters full of life.

To me, she was a messenger that said life isn't just for just walking the camino, but for living and being part of the camino. Annamerie reminded me that we don't just talk the talk, or even just walk the walk, but that we also live the life. Walking with her filled my days with joy and gratitude.

All three taught me lessons along the Camino. And like the dense person that I can be, I didn't realize it can work the other way too. I now realize that I too could sometimes act as a messenger, an angel, to others, if I let myself be present in the journey.

I took a rest day in Burgos because my blisters were so painful. After that rest day, I continued onward, feeling much less pain. And for some reason, on a day I was feeling healthy, I saw a grove of trees next to a sign that said "Fuente" (water fountain). I had lots of water, wasn't tired, and was only an hour away from my destination. But for some reason, I felt called to stop. To sit. To soak be a part of this rural setting under these trees. I had no reason to stop, but I turned down that path to stop. So I walked into the grove and sat at the tables. I chatted with other pilgrims and learned the well was empty. Soon, a woman from Italy stopped by looking for water at the well. She became concerned when she learned that the well was dry.

I offered her my water since I had plenty and was near my final stop. She filled her bottle and drank most of it so I topped it off for her. In talking, she found out I started in Lourdes and she expressed her interest in visiting it one day. I offered her some of the Lourdes water. And that's when she did the unexpected. She burst into tears, hugging me for a couple minutes, sobbing. Silvia drank the Lourdes water and asked to be anointed by it. In the next week, I would come across her several more times, including walking with her for a whole day surrounded by glorious, bountiful flowers. Stephen got to meet her in Leon on his first day of his Camino, as she translated the pilgrim's blessing from Spanish to English for the basilica priest.

That day I met her, that evening, I pondered why she cried. I didn't have a clue at the time. It took several more encounters with her to understand that she was exhausted, thirsty, and spiritually challenged. She had come onto the Camino looking for a spiritual experience but she was coming away tired and longing for inspiration, for the mystical. It took me a while to figure out what was really happening. In fact, I needed my spiritual advisor to help me figure out why I was confused. Here I was, thinking I was merely offering her water, but when I got called to that well, I was guided to the well, prodded to be present. I was sent to help her, share the water, share some rest and a smile. With the woman at the well, thirsting for water and something deeper than a well, I offered her a gift and a message that she needed to hear. To be her angel.

So I walked with three angels. And with a woman at the well, I eventually realized that I was the voice and flesh by which angels had come to her. Life can be that way in so many ways. We walk with people who we may immediately recognize as important messengers to us, telling us to wake up and smell the roses, to find ourselves, to be inspired. And maybe without us knowing it, we too may be that angel messenger to others.

Most often, we're too close to our own stories to realize what's happening. We forget that we should walk intentionally, always awake, always open to the new. Sometimes it takes a prolonged journey to realize that you're always on a pilgrimage and should be ever present to those who may be there to help you and guide you. May your heart be always open to so that you can hear and see and touch the angels walking by your side.

Estamos Caminando por la Ciudad de los Ángeles

We are walking through the city of angels. Yes, you can take that to mean that I'm a resident of Los Angeles, and I walk through it. I walk between great buildings, through children-packed parks, among camps of homeless, and beside an untamed ocean. This city is crisscrossed with fault lines: not just geological ones, but political and economic as well.

But when I say that we are walking through the city of angels, I'm also talking about the angels in our midst. I might not be referring to actual angels as recognized by formal theology, but to angels in effect, in spirit, in love.

I've really enjoyed my new participation in a couple of ministries this past year. Perhaps they're not new in general - as I've done stuff with other programs since high school - but new specifically. And I realize that angels had something to do with me finding these places of love.

First I started attending Laundry Love in East Hollywood. The Laundry Love initiative consists of regular opportunities to come alongside people who are struggling financially by assisting them with their laundry. Laundry Love partners with local laundromats in cleaning clothes and linens of low-income or no-income families and individuals. During select days and times, laundry is free. Just bring your clothes. Quarters, soap, and dryer sheets are provided. There are no income requirements, and everyone is welcome.

I've also started to participate with The Gathering, a community of Asian-American congregants throughout the Los Angeles Episcopal Diocese, who wish to share our perspectives on our faith and practices with each other. I spoke on a panel discussing "identity" earlier this spring and am now assisting in organizing a musical event on Oct 13 at St John's Cathedral and featuring musicians in the diocese.

Both have opened my eyes to the multitude of angels that live and breathe and walk around me. You may have noticed that I in prior blog postings have talked about the being awakened periodically to discovering that someone in front of me is acting as a messenger of God. They're opening my eyes, unstopping my ears, and clearing my throat. I become aware of God's grace. I am reminded of God's love. And I feel connected to God ever more closely.

That's what an angel does. The angels that people think of in classical paintings - the cherubims - are chubby pink babies for the most part. But in those places in Scripture where angels are mentioned, the angel is almost always a messenger from God or from the Archangel Michael. They don't show up to be cute.

No, they usually are there to say "Wake up" and "God is here".

These two ministries, like the others that I participate in, poke me, prod me, blare a trumpet at me - anything to catch my distracted attention. In today's world, it's more than a little easy to be distracted after all. I'm undoubtedly as guilty of that as anyone else, if not more so given my job in technology.

Instead, I'm reminded how much we depend on each other to help each other. I'm reminded that regardless of what we look like, we are all welcome to Christ's table. I'm reminded that whether we talk with other, sing with each other, or sit in silence with each other, we are in community together and that we're in this thing as one.

I feel lucky that the wonderful members of Holy Spirit in Silver Lake reminded me of their Laundry Love ministry. I came for prayer and I walked out with my eyes opened. And when I started to attend, I so appreciate it when I can recognize people at the laundromat; I'm not great with names but I'm good with faces and that's a useful place to start. And I'm surprised and happy when they recognize me, too. It means that irrespective of where we are on our journeys, we know we've crossed paths here and that we share something together.

These times at Laundry Love complement all the time Stephen and I have spent with Union Station Homeless Services. We appreciate that society has to both help the emergency nutritional and safety needs of those who lack basic resources but also to help them move past the crisis and into sustainable employment and programs. It's hard to get a job or keep a job if your soiled laundry discourages employers from hiring you. But the reality is too many people have to choose between feeding their families and washing their clothes.

And, I feel so very connected when I'm interacting with The Gathering. I don't often participate in Asian ethnic events. I used to do that as a child and it wasn't something that I enjoyed. Mind you, Filipino families are quite large and, with almost 5 dozen first cousins and 17 nieces and nephews, there's more than enough cultural interaction just hanging out with each other. As I grew older, I enjoyed discovering other cultures. I didn't spend as much time exploring my actual roots, which are Filipino, which is sort of Asian, sort of Pacific Islander, and in some ways sort of Latino. And oh so very Roman Catholic.

So Rev. Peter Huang and the Gathering, by reaching out to me, have opened my eyes to ways I can connect with others in the church who want to experience their faith while acknowledging and celebrating our cultural heritage. It's something I've been wanting and it surprised me that it somehow appeared to happen.

I had heard of both Laundry Love and Episcopal Asian Ministries before, but I think angels are insistent. They're there to make sure you're awake and hearing the message sent to you. We each have our journeys and we'll always have times alone and times in community on the path. But the angels. The angels will tap you on the shoulder and say "If you would just listen, I think there's something you want to hear."

And I think back to the first of three angels that I met on my 600 mile Camino de Santiago pilgrimage in 2016. (http://letallwhoarethirstycome.blogspot.com/2016/05/camino-2016-0522-angel-messenger-and.html). He told me "You'll be fine". He told me I was safe. And I felt safe. And that's what I needed to hear so that I wouldn't feel alone, so that I wouldn't be afraid.

So keep an open heart to those you encounter on the road. You may not recognize the angels in our midst, but they've got something you need to hear.

Fear, Health, and the Visitation

2016 Camino of Healing. Somewhere between Estella and Los Arcos

I've been reflecting on some of the events from my first Camino of 2016, the one that went from Lourdes to Santiago de Compostela. In it, I had to cope with a fever, hail, strained hamstrings, and countless blisters. Truly, during the hailstorm, I feared for my life (see Angel Messenger and the Comfort of Christ). But if you follow the daily postings on that page of my blog (2016 Camino of Healing), there's a consistency to it that I now see after the fact.

Pain, sickness, and the unknown create fear in us. They generate a fight or flight reaction of anxiety, and since we can't flee from pain and sickness, we're left with an elevated sense that we're fighting an external enemy. It may be true. It may be a parasite or virus living within us that we fight. But the psychology of that anxiety has its costs.

We get exhausted. We may start to despair. And we can give up on putting one foot in front of the other, as we struggle to maintain our strength. I've seen it in others. I've seen it in patients, in pilgrims, and in caregivers. And I have seen it in myself. And I see it in myself.

I'm waiting for my 82-year-old father to undergo a biopsy next week. He's recovered from a severe lung infection but the doctors are unsure of what they see in his lungs. This has my mother anxious. And that's ok. It makes sense to be nervous about the unknown in your body.

Somehow, though, we need to move past that anxiety. I was thinking about this as I reflected on the Feast Day of the Visitation (May 31). It's when cousins Mary and Elizabeth meet up and see each other with child. Elizabeth greets her, "Blessed art thou amongst women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb."

I imagine that this must have shocked Mary. Here she is, having traveled over 80 miles back then, while pregnant, while young, while nervous, and her cousin greets her with a most amazing blessing. This must have been incredibly comforting and loving.

And according to Gospel of Luke, Mary responds with the Magnificat.

My soul doth magnify the Lord,
and my spirit hath rejoiced in God my Savior.
For he hath regarded
the lowliness of his handmaiden.
For behold from henceforth
all generations shall call me blessed.
For he that is mighty hath magnified me,
and holy is his Name.
And his mercy is on them that fear him
throughout all generations.
He hath showed strength with his arm;
he hath scattered the proud in the imagination of their hearts.
He hath put down the mighty from their seat,
and hath exalted the humble and meek.
He hath filled the hungry with good things,
and the rich he hath sent empty away.
He remembering his mercy hath holpen his servant Israel,
as he promised to our forefathers,
Abraham and his seed forever.

I can't imagine that she was having these thoughts on that long journey to see her cousin. I see it as something that burst from her as the burden of fear and anxiety were lessened by her cousin's words, by her cousin's embrace.

It's why we visit each other when we're sick. We aren't all medical professionals so my advice isn't worth more than anyone working at a hospital. And people who comfort me are most often not the medical professionals.

It's our cousins, relatives, friends who do so, who lighten our fears and anxieties. And when I visit someone, I know I can't answer all or any of their questions of healing, but I hope that I can listen. I hope that I can hear,

So when I reflect on last year, and what transpired over the Pyrenees, or on the paths, or at Lourdes, I like to think that it was the simple stuff - a gentle hug, a tap on the shoulder, an embrace, a healing bath, a voice over the phone - that gave me strength to go on. And in finding that calm, in finding that strength, we like Mary can rejoice and find ourselves filled with a healing love that cannot be denied.

Walking in the Kingdom of Heaven

I was asked what were my most memorable moments along the Camino de Santiago pilgrimage. I reflected on this, as I had so many memories, photographs, and blog postings. It occurred to me that my most memorable points were not about me alone, about the flowers, or about specific places.

It was about people.

Now, I found many amazing people along the Camino but for this question, I focused on three people in particular. Three people who I view as messengers in my life. Angels really. After all, the original depiction of angels were messengers, so perhaps it's fitting, on this Feast Day of Saint James the Apostle, the saint for whom the Camino de Santiago is named, that I dwell on those who bring Good News to people.

The first person came to me in the middle of my deepest fear I've had in decades. The full account of that day is in "Angel Messenger and the Comfort of Christ". I held back tears because I was afraid that I would die of exposure while crossing the Pyrenees. I thought I had such good fortune because just when I thought my hip and lower back could not get me over the mountains, I saw the luggage transportation van, and the woman was able to take at the last minute my backpack to my destination. Unfortunately, in my haste, I grabbed almost everything I needed for the daypack, except my jacket. As the clouds came, the rains came and the painful hail poured down for two hours, shredding my poncho and leaving me basically with my day pack and my quick dry long sleeve shirt. The fog and my steam-covered eyeglasses could barely see where the trail was and where the cliffs threatened. I could not even venture to see a statue of the Virgin in the mountains because I feared falling off the slopes.

And then came a vision from behind me. I only saw his chin peeking out from his clothing, a chin where my immediate reaction was "Oh, that looks like the guy who played Jesus in Jesus Christ Superstar". He asked me how I was and I responded with "cold and frightened." And this person just smiled and said "You'll be fine." He continued, "Where are you going?" I answered "To Roncesvalles on the other side of the Pyrenees". With his calm smile he said, "I'll see you on the other side" and continued walking into the foggy hail. For some reason, this was weirdly re-assuring. Moreover, he wore a fluorescent red backpack poncho, a colour so bright that I could actually see it and follow along the twisting, unseen trail. So I followed this young man who looked like Jesus into the unknown, somehow comforted, somehow feeling safe, somehow confident.

And the next day, after I made it, after I slept, I was back on the trail and he placed his hand on my shoulder and said that he knew I would be there. And he walked with me the whole day. We broke bread together on a mountain top. His name was Thore, after the Norse God of storms and protection.

And on this fifth and sixth day of my Camino, yes, this person whose image first made me think of Christ, he met me in a storm and was my protector.

The next influential person appeared after Pamplona. I had been upset and fearful that my blisters, acquired from wet feet and the struggle over the Pyrenees, would impair me. For now, I was doing better. And I came across a person who simply radiated love. In fact, almost every person who ever met Daniel from Oxford described his intensely caring eyes and his beautiful affection for everyone he met. He was astonishingly humble. We talked and walked all day, breaking bread at dinner and the next day at breakfast. He was thrilled that I had water from Lourdes that I was sharing with those on the Camino, and he thankfully took a sip and asked to be anointed with it. He touched almost everyone he seemed to meet.

And he did this while walking on crutches. You didn't notice them after you talked with him; you didn't usually see his bruised hands and feet. The reality was that his ailments slowed him down to just over 1-2 mph and it was taking him three months to reach Santiago, three times longer than most. I can't imagine how he navigated the muddy, rocky slopes of the various mountains we crossed. When asked why he was on the Camino, he would respond "so that every day I can walk again." But he inspired such care in others, as we all cared for him. After evening mass, for example, I lost track of him even though he was sitting beside me. I found him; he was giving alms to a needy man and asking if he was safe this evening.

He embodied so comfortably, so easily, the unconditional love that graces us and that we are called to show. Despite his challenges, he feared not, almost a posterchild of St Teresa's "Nada de Turbe" (Do not worry) prayer. Yes, I shared the healing waters with him, and in his presence and love, I was the one who was healed.

The third person who touched me greatly on this Camino walked into my life the day after Burgos City. I took a rest day in Burgos because my blisters were so painful. And for some reason, on a day I was feeling quite healthy, I saw a grove of trees next to a sign that said "Fuente" (water fountain). I had lots of water and wasn't tired. In fact, I was only an hour away from my destination. But I felt called to sit under these trees, so I listened to the Holy Spirit and walked into grove and sat at the tables. I chatted with some pilgrims and found out the water was empty. Soon, a woman from Italy came over and was looking for water. She became frightened and upset when I said that the well was dry.

I offered her my water since I had plenty. After all, I was only an hour away from my final stop of the day. She filled her bottle and drank much of it. I topped it off for her. In talking, she found out I started in Lourdes and she expressed her interest in visiting it one day. I offered her some of the Lourdes water. And that's when she really caught my attention. She burst into tears, hugging me for a couple minutes, sobbing. Silvia drank the Lourdes water and asked to be anointed by it. In the next week, I would come across her several more times, including walking with her for a whole day surrounded by flowers.

That day, that evening, I didn't know why she cried. It took several more encounters with her to understand that she was exhausted, thirsty, and spiritually challenged. She had come onto the camino looking for a spiritual experience but she was coming away thirsty and longing for that touch with the divine, the mystical. Here I was, thinking I was merely offering her water, but when the Holy Spirit drew me to that well, I was guided to give her a glimpse of the waters of life.

So these three people, these three angels affected me most. As I described them, the person who asked me the initial question reflected and said, "I asked you to describe your most memorable Camino memories. You've just described the Kingdom of Heaven."

I was at first surprised and then it began to sink in. I was so close to these stories, I hadn't stepped back to put them together. In Thore, I encountered the comforting, guiding Christ. Beside Daniel, I walked with unconditional love. And with Silvia and guided by the Holy Spirit, I acted out the great commandment and loved my neighbor as myself. It wasn't a fluke that these three were in my life and were somehow prominent memories of my Camino.

They represented the best promise of life, the promise of the Kingdom of Heaven. In their presence in my presence, in our encounters on the Camino de Santiago, I was making my journey to that Kingdom.

So step back and look at the angels in your life. Where are they guiding you? Where are you leading them? And are you awake enough to see where you are and where you are going?

May your footsteps always walk beside the angels in our lives, on a journey of love, peace, and comfort.

At the foot of the cross

I ask for your prayers. The arch of my left foot has been hurting for the past two weeks. It's usually a dull ache but once it was an acute pain. It fills me with concern and anxiety as I depart today for my pilgrimage.

My aches may be making me feel down, but I am confident that it won't hold me back. Something has been calling me to the foot of the cross for too long -- drawing me to love unlimited, to care for others always - to allow this to just stop my pilgrimage.

Instead, the journey might be changed.

The journey might be massaged and morphed and mutated into something that wasn't conceived in my imagination and original plans.

The journey might become less; and, it might become more.

From the many lessons that arose from my last Camino, and from prayerful discernment, I've come around to understanding the need to give up the need to control my journey. Father Richard Rohr has stated that the opposite of love is not doubt; the opposite of love is control. I've spent far too much time controlling my path instead of allowing God's plans and routes to unfold.

So I will try to not let the instinct-to-control own me. I will be intentional in diminishing the fear it wants to create in me. And the way to do so is to let that instinct free. Let it float away. Accepting the plans of the Holy Spirit is so much more difficult than I imagined, yet it also is so much more liberating than I imagined.

And allowing Her to show me a different way may mean revealing my own hurts and pains first. Again, this will be ok. For whether or not I have disappointments in coping with these limitations placed by my body and mind, I should try to yield and accept changes to purely man-made facades. For these man-made edifices were built by me. They might have been inspired by my love of Christ, molded by experience with others, tempered by flawed relationships, but they are mine and not God's plans for me. I don't have some hotline to know what Her plans truly are so I must listen and listen well.

So yield I must try. And pray I will. And if you, as I begin this pilgrimage, walk and yield, pray and walk with me, then I truly will be on a pilgrimage with God beside me. And as we make our away along the foot of the cross, we can carry each other along to places that feed us deeply.

Buen camino, peregrino.

Packing for the Camino

For over two years, I've written about preparing spiritually for pilgrimage, and yet there's always the question of practicality. How does one physically prepare for the Camino de Santiago? How does one pack for it?

For the physical preparation: I walk often and everywhere. This is more true now that I've been on Camino and have gotten the mindset that everything is within walking distance if you have enough time. If you're concerned about physical situations, start walking.

Walk one mile (17-22 minutes for most people) twice a week for a few weeks. Then add a mile. Keep doing so until you reach a point where you're satisfied with your endurance. Don't forget to bring water. Once you reach that satisfaction point, start carrying a backpack with stuff in it. Add more.

Your walking doesn't have to be only on trails. A good portion of the Camino is through areas akin to city and suburban streets. Mix it up with parks and suburbs and beaches. And if you have mountains or hills nearby, include them gradually into your regime.

Packing is not that different. It's an art form that needs just as much practice and forethought. It's not about money for the fanciest, most expensive item. My convertible pants can for example go for $90 ($65 if on sale) at REI or $25 at Sears. This isn't a fashion show.

Ideally, it's said that your pack should not exceed 10% of your body weight. I try to follow that rule, with the exception of the weight of water needed for the day.

So here's a breakdown on what's in my pack. It's got a couple extra items in it that add a 1/2-lb or so but it's 5-lbs less than I brought 2 years ago. Also, I will be carrying about 2-4 pounds of water from Lourdes that I will be sharing with pilgrims who feel in the need of heeling.

In the descriptions below, "for town" means clothing needed once I arrive at a place, shower, and now can lounge at the albergue or walk about town.

Figure 1 - Clothing

Clothing (Figure 1)
The clothing choices here are based on late May-early October pilgrimage. If you travel before mid-May or after mid-October, there's the possibility of snow and your clothes need warmer options. My legs rarely get cold but my torso does, so it's all about layering.

• Convertible trousers, where the bottoms can unzip leaving you shorts. You then pack the bottom leggings away. In reality I'm likely to just wear them as shorts most of the time, except when it rains. I wear them as trousers on the plane because overnight transcontinental flights are notoriously cold.
• 3 quick dry shirts (2 alternating, wearing one while I wash and dry the other; the third is for town)
• 3 quick dry underwear (2 alternating, wearing one while I wash and dry the other; the third is for town)
• 1 Shorts for town 
• 1 Long sleeve T-shirt for town
• 1 Light jacket
• 3 outside socks (thicker, knee high)
• 3 inside socks (comfy, extra to avoid blisters)
• 1 pair of sandals so that I don't have to wear my shoes around the albergue or town
• 1 rain poncho that can cover me and the backpack concurrently 
• 1 pair of light gloves for the early morning (carrying a flashlight can leave your hand cold)
• Bandana loop that can act as a scarf, headband, etc. Many buy the "Buff" brand but I find them unnecessarily expensive.

Figure 2 - Clothing that I won't be wearing but will be in the pack

I put this picture in Figure 2 out so you can get an idea of how minimal clothing should look

Figure 3 - Backpack, Back Brace, Walking Stick, and Daypack + Contents

Items needed while walking (Figure 3)

• 48L backpack. The rule of thumb is maxing out at 40L to keep the weight down but I found that the larger pack has more pockets for easier access. I found that the smaller pack sat oddly on my back and was quite frustrating to access small items, which sometimes required me to partially unpack everything. Note the assortment of bungees and lockable carabiners.
• Back brace - I sometimes tweak my back and I am in much discomfort sitting on a plane for more than 3 hours. I wear the brace while walking so that I don't accidentally twist my back while putting on and taking off the backpack. It also helps me to maintain proper posture while walking, an important part of endurance and avoiding injury.
• Various 1 gallon and 1 quart ziploc bags.
• Toilet paper. Seriously, you never know what the bathroom will have. And if you're on a trail and there are no options, please bury it our carry it out in a plastic bag like you would while walking your dog.
• Walking stick. Mine is actually monopod that serves as a walking stick. I use it to take pictures with less blurry shakiness.
• Camino shell - symbol of the Camino pilgrim. Some wear it on their neck. Most keep it on their backpack or daypack.
• Flashlight - I got this one at 99 Cents Only and you don't need batteries. Just squeeze it repeatedly for a few minutes and it's fully charged. Sunrise for May and June is around 7:30-8am and sunset is 10pm or later (after normal pilgrim bedtime). Since I start at 6am to avoid the mid-day heat, I need the flashlight for about 60-90 minutes.
• Camera. I wasn't going to bring one but since I'm staying after the Camino for a week of tourism, decided I wanted my camera.
• Wide brimmed water-proof hat. Baseball caps shelter your head but they do nothing for your neck and ears.
• 2L camel with tube. I use the 2L because there aren't many places to refill on the Pyrenees. Where the trail is more populated, I fill it up only halfway and carry about 1L of water at a time.
• Blue vial to carry a small dose of healing water from Lourdes. Not pictured is a 1-2 liter container that I will get and fill in Lourdes. The small container will make it easier to share the water with others.
• Notepad with pen.
• Individually wrapped snacks that will last me on the 5 less populated days of the Pyrenees, which are right at the start. No need to risk a sugar crisis when one is a borderline diabetic. One in three American adults over the age of 20 has this condition.
• Wallet that has a coin pocket for Euros. Stone that I'll leave at the Cruz de Ferro is currently in that pocket at the moment.
• USB charger and cable. I got a solar one. If it works, great; if it doesn't and I must charge at the wall, I'm no worse off. It carries a 12,000 mAh reserve.
• Passport and Camino passport in a ziploc bag.
• The mobile phone was used to take a picture so it's not seen. Some say leave the mobile phone at home. I keep it so that I can coordinate with Stephen and others that I meet. Also, I prefer to blog to journal rather than to write on paper. It also has tunes for the night, and prayers, the bible, and Book of Common Prayer for the morning and bedtime.

Figure 4 - Items needed at the shared bathroom & dormitories

Items I need at the albergues at bed or in the bathroom (Figure 4)

• Blood pressure medication and ibuprofen. Here's a tip. Take a pain killer like ibuprofen when you check in to an albergue, hostal, or hotel. That way, if you nap or since you have stopped walking, you won't be as likely to suffer leg cramps. Also, I take them if I know I'm going uphill in the next hour so that to reduce risks of any discomfort in my back.
• Instead of a microfiber towel (the texture invariably feels weird to me), I'm using a sarong for a towel. It can wrap around the waist unlike small microfiber towels.
• The flat water bottle is for bed. You may get thirsty at night. A normal cylindrical bottle may roll off the bed. The flat one won't.
• The mesh bag can hang easily at the bed or clothesline. It's also helpful if your laundry doesn't dry out the night before. You can tie the mesh bag to your pack so that your clothes continue to air dry.
• The sleeping bag liner is all that's needed at this time of year. If I'm colder, I can put on my light jacket
• The camera charger cable is likely used at night if that battery runs down.
• The hangable toiletries bag allows you to hang and access while in the shower.
• A quick dry latherer / exfoliator feels so good after a long day sweating.
• Euro wall charger with multiple USB ports.
• Earbuds, eye cover, and Compeed for blisters.

Figure 5 - Extras & Emergencies

Emergency and Extras (Figure 5)

• Earbuds
• Charger cable
• USB charger with a USA plug for layovers
• Extra camera battery
• Ankle braces for my easily injured ankles.
• Surgical tape may prevent blisters from forming so I'm bringing some to try out. Supposedly, you wrap it around the areas where you tend to get blisters and it will help tremendously.

Shoes (Figure 6)
Two years ago I wore hiking sandals. This year, I decided to wear hiking shoes. I don't wear hiking boots because my feet get too hot.

I may still wear my hiking sandals however. The arch of my left foot has started to hurt this past week, and it could possibly be due to the new shoes which I'm breaking in.

Please keep me in your prayers as I struggle with this choice and pre-trip pain.

Hope this helps. Figure 7 shows what you look like at the end of packing this 18-lb pack (and wear some of the clothes).

Figure 7. Peregrino

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The Wholeness Camino

On Sunday, Rev. Ed Bacon at All Saints Pasadena gave his valedictory Easter sermon, as he prepares next month to retire from our church and move closer to his family in the South. Before getting into the meat of his moving words, we already were prepared to deal with emotions of his impending departure.

Helping each other walk up the Camino towards O'Cebreiro Spain (September 2014)

And yet even with that preparation, he still rocked me. During that sermon, he brought up something that he's mentioned before: the word "healing" and "whole" come from the same root word in English. He gave examples of how one cannot move towards healing and new life, without moving towards wholeness. And one cannot move towards wholeness without healing.

I've been pondering why I was moved and it occurred to me that as my Camino pilgrimage approaches, I've been inadequate in describing the healing component of this walk. I've called it "My Healing Pilgrimage". I describe how during my first Camino de Santiago walk, I was in a deeply self-reflective, discerning mood. I just turned 50, just married, just committed to staying in bunk beds night after night for the first time in decades. And I was wondering my place in the world and what the Holy Spirit was guiding me to do.

So in describing this Healing pilgrimage, I talk about all the people I met who somehow felt the need - somewhere in their lives - for healing. So I wanted this walk to be about them instead of me. I came up with the idea of starting in Lourdes, France (adding an extra 100 miles or so) so that I could bring holy healing waters from the River Pau with me. I wanted to share the waters that Saint Bernadette drank, the waters that have been repeatedly described as miraculous and healing. I would bring and share the waters with those who believed, wanted healing, and welcomed the water.

And that's where I've realized I've been remiss.

I can't heal without working towards healing myself.

I can't help people find wholeness without seeking wholeness as well.

It's not that I did not feel this way. It's a matter of emphasis. It's a matter of intentionality. I just don't mention it enough.

I'm intending to land in Paris on May 13 and head immediately to Chartres. On Fridays, the labyrinth is available for us to walk. There isn't a better metaphor for a pilgrimage, to me, than the labyrinth and starting my journey on that cathedral floor will immediately frame my mind.

On Saturday May 14, I will spend the day in Giverny, where Monet lived and painted his countless waterlilies. Monet is renowned for his use of light to portray nature in all her glory. I will take the train to the nearest town and walk over an hour each way to his home. The house is now a museum but visitors can walk parts of the garden around the pond.

Why Giverny? Many people like me find calm and the healing love of God when looking at art. His waterlilies and gardens have for decades stilled my busy mind. Visiting Chartres and Giverny will, I hope, reset my pace and heart and soul for this pilgrimage.

On Sunday, I will visit the American Cathedral in Paris, the seat of the European diocese of the Episcopal Church. I'll wrap up the day at the Cathedral de Notre Dame. In between, I hope to visit the Père Lachaise cemetery and the Catacombs of Paris. Strange itinerary? Perhaps. What I hope to do is first of all start of my pilgrimage with traditional church services. I include the cemetery and catacombs in between these two liturgical services in order to remind myself of life's one certainty. Death of these mortal bodies is inevitable. Any amount of pilgrimage and healing is meant for the living. We are mandated by Christ to love each other while we still have each other. Death will inevitably bring our earthly journeys to a close so it's imperative that we, while remembering this, make every moment worthy of cherishing.

And then...

I head to Lourdes. I head to Lourdes not to just grab a bottle of waters from the stream.

I spend a couple of nights in Lourdes so that I start my pilgrimage with deep, personal healing. The journey must begin in community with others in need of healing, knowing that we are all there with the same aspirations and dreams and love and hope. Whether it's during the evening vigils, the morning vigils, or traditional services, I will be bathing in the waters of life that heal. And I will immerse myself literally in the waters that heal, in the formal baptistry area and in the stream.

The road to a healing camino can't be done any other way. I can share healing love and living water only as I am taking in that healing love and living water. It's in those relationships, with each other and with God, that find wholeness. It's in those relationships that we can bring wholeness. And, in the humility of seeking healing, we may be able to share healing with others.

So I apologize if I wasn't clear before. This healing pilgrimage is for me as well as for those I love and meet. This pilgrimage is for us.

May your camino and my camino intertwine on the road to wholeness and healing.

Preparing for the Camino de Santiago in 2016

Credentials from my 2014 Camino de Santiago pilgrimage

Once again, I'll be walking the Camino de Santiago, leaving Los Angeles on May 12, 2016.

Rather than starting in the traditional city of St Jean Pied-de-Port, France and following the Camino Frances, I will start in Lourdes, France. This small city sits at the foot of the French Pyrenees mountains. Starting there will add an additional 130 km (81 miles) or so, depending on the route I decide to take, on top of the typical 800 km (500 miles). Based on past experience, I will likely walk another 100 miles just wandering the villages sight-seeing churches and landmarks.

Why start in Lourdes?

My 2014 camino pilgrimage was pretty much about me. It was an opportunity to discover myself, to pursue some discernment about vocation, to explore my purpose. The pilgrimage was also an appropriate way for me personally to celebrate my 50th birthday year.

And as you may have read from my blog postings from the 2014 journey, I noticed that numerous people needed to be with other people, needed to share their lives and pains and joys, needed to find healing. It touched me that they would share this with me. I found it amazing that I could minister to their needs and offer an ear, a heart, a touch that could provide solace or healing. My 2014 blog postings are on the right side navigation: Preparing for the Camino de Santiago 2014 and my posts during and after at Camino de Santiago 2014.

So I'll start in Lourdes, France. Lourdes has been known for two centuries as a pilgrimage site of healing. Millions of people every year head to Lourdes to be blessed. By touching, tasting, and washing with the waters of that community, the pilgrims seek to move from a place of illness and hurt to one of reconciliation and well-being.

I will start out with my own efforts to find healing. As the phrase goes, "physician heal thyself". First, I want to have a couple days of reflection, self-care, and attention to physical and spiritual health. Then, taking some of the healing water with me in a container, I will carry the blessed waters from the Lourdes grotto and take it on the camino with me.

And all who wish to be anointed with the holy water, to be blessed in prayer, are welcome to that water. I will share the blessings with all who seek it, and pray that they be healed.

I've confided to some that my 2016 camino will be all about others. I amend and correct myself publicly now. One can never take a pilgrimage for others. One takes a pilgrimage for themselves. But, my camino will be a shared camino. In sharing the holy water, in sharing the healing, in allowing myself to be in communion with others, I will find myself fed and nourished, and share in the bountiful grace of God. That's my camino in 2016. That's why I will start in Lourdes.

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I may be walking with friends from church along this trip. If schedules work out, I'll be meeting some at St. Jean-Pied-de-Port. Others might be joining us in other cities and villages. Because of this, I will walk on average 25 km (15 miles) each day instead of my normal 35-40 km (22-25 miles) . This is related to making my journey a part of others' lives and not about my own. My husband Stephen, after school lets out and he goes on his annual teaching vacation, will fly out and join me in Leon - a 300 km (200 mile) pilgrimage.

In the meantime, my camino walk continues. I'm rather surprised at my attraction to walking now. I used to walk around downtown Pasadena. Instead of driving to various places or to church, I would just walk. Now, I work from home. That actually began the month before my 2014 pilgrimage. And surprisingly, I walk everywhere now. I've walked to family gatherings in Glendora almost 40 km away.

It started gradually, with about 5-7 mile walks every other day. Now I find myself walking to downtown Pasadena from home, an almost 10 mile round trip, several times a week. Rather than driving to lunch, I just walk. As of this posting, I've walked 1360 miles since New Year's Day, about the distance from New York City past University of Nebraska in Lincoln. I don't even notice the physical part any more. It's part of my journey in mind, body, and spirit. I'm seeking more time away from busy interpersonal interactions to have time with myself, time to ponder and free associate, time to reflect and pray.

(Note: For 2015, I ended up walking 2100 miles. That's the distance from NY to Salt Lake City... Los Angeles to Pensecola Florida... Chicago to Mexico City... Manchester England to Istanbul Turkey...)

I hope you join me, online or even along the Camino Frances, walking beside me as I journey towards my journey of healing.

Walking for me, Walking for others

You may have heard that I walked the Camino de Santiago in 2014. If you read my blog series on that pilgrimage, you're well aware of what went through my head and heart. If not here are the two main links:
   Before the Camino
   During and after the Camino

It amazes me how much the Camino changed my perceptions. Perhaps that's not correct. I think inside I knew what should and could arise from this pilgrimage. No, what's amazing is that in spite of all that I knew and perceived, my focus was all around one being.

Me.

My journey in faith.

My spiritual direction.

My own Camino.

And what I discovered, especially as I re-read my blog postings, was that what was changing was not necessarily my perceptions, but my focus. By focusing so much on me, I so lost sight of many of the things that truly make for a grace-filled world. The low point and high point of the refocusing pivoted on one night, as I describe in the blog entry Preconceived Notions and Judgement . As I mentioned there, I was up half the night, shocked that my self-focused walk almost blocked the Holy Spirit from working both within me and within others. On my camino, I was twisting in my path.

So the lessons revolved around the focus, not on what I knew. I know that religion is about our inter-connectedness, our relationships, other love with others on this earth. My spiritual focus was on me, which obscured the eternal truths. So, this next walk will not focus on me. It will be on

Us.

Our journeys in faith.

Our spiritual directions.

Our own caminos.

Now, with All Saints Pasadena friends Matthew Rhodes and Michelle Johnston, I'm planning on returning to the Camino in 2016 May-June. And many, many more are coming, though they will start at different places. Matthew and MJ will start at Saint Jean Pied-de-Port on the French border, the typical starting spot for the 500 mile journey. Stephen will likely start in Astorga. Others in Burgos, where I started my journey in 2014. And I'll continue to Finisterre, on foot this time.

This time, in 2016, I won't be starting in Spain. I'll be starting in Lourdes, France.

The Virgin Mary made over a dozen appearances to the village starting in 1858. The Sanctuary of Our Lady of Lourdes is a place of mass pilgrimage. The spring water from the grotto is believed by some to possess healing properties. This pilgrimage site of healing receives millions of visitors every year.

I will begin my pilgrimage on the Camino here. I will seek healing in communion with others. Then, with oils and waters from this site, I will begin my Camino walk towards Saint Jean Pied-de-Port and onwards to Santiago de Compostella. Most importantly, I will share the water and oil with those who wish to share in a healing moment.

So it won't be about me this time. It will be about sitting with others and praying together for healing and love. I'll be praying with and for everyone I meet. I hope I stay in the moment and present with all I encounter. And, with a grace-filled heart, my focus won't need adjusting this time.