Carry and Roll

Lent is upon us. Many of those who follow this blog will likely know that I'm rather enthusiastic about this liturgical season, this time of pilgrimage to Easter. It's an opportunity for deeper reflection about Jesus and His ministry, His humanity, His cross, His death, His resurrection, His holiness.  Like many of you, I do more reading, more walking, more thinking, more praying.

I'm sometimes asked what I usually do as Lenten disciplines. Many give up things. My husband still likes to give up sweets and chocolates. In addition to taking things on, I do tend to do these two things:

• I don't exceed the speed limit. Weird huh? Speeding is a given in Southern California; when there's no traffic, you zoom ahead. I do this because often times I do so because I'm in a hurry. Except, in truth, I'm not. If I were more considerate to myself and others, I would make enough time to get some place without speeding. And, I do think that my need for speed makes me focus on me and my desires more than on others and their needs. They've got busy schedules as well. So, I stay within the speed limit and work on loving those that pass me by.
• We eat out a few times a week. I try to limit my purchases during Lent. I usually spend around $15-20 including tax and tip when I eat out. So I try to limit myself to eating just appetizers and drinking water so with any money I can save, I can donate to the local homeless services.If I spend only $8, I can donate $12. Donating the cumulative amount during Easter brings this Lenten exercise to life.

So here's something I'll be trying this year. For those of you who recall my posts regarding the Cruz de Ferro, it's a custom to carry a stone along the Camino de Santiago (via the Camino Frances) to carry a stone. (Check out a prior Lenten meditation.) The stone represents anything and everything in your life that weighs you down, that holds you back, that hurts you as it rubs against you. And yet you carry it. Maybe you don't realize how much it's hurting you. Maybe you are afraid to set it down. Maybe you think you cannot live without it. Then, at this enormous iron cross just past Foncebadon Spain, you leave the stone at the foot of the cross. You may have carried it hundreds of miles on your Camino walk, and you finally put it down for Christ to carry.

So I invite you to join me on this practice.

Starting Wednesday, I'll carry a stone with me. I'll carry it everywhere I go. The only time I will put the stone down is during our Taize services, when I will place the stone on the cross. And after the service, I'll pick up the stone and continue to carry it. Whenever I feel it in my pocket, I can reflect on all the things in my life that weigh me down, that hold me back, that hurt me, and pray for the strength to let go of that stone, to leave that stone with Christ, to look forward to the day I can let it go.

And on Easter, like those who visited the tomb on the third day, I'll roll the stone away. I'll put the stone down at the foot of the cross and pray that I do so for all the things I thought about during Lent. And in doing so, I pray that I'll find new life.

So go outside, look for a small stone about an inch long. On Ash Wednesday, pick it up and begin carrying it every moment you're up and about, thinking about all the things that you carry every day of your life. 

If you see me, I'll have extra stones that I can give to you, so ask me.

And we can walk together, knowing that we have our stones, looking forward to the day we can be freed of the stones in our lives.

Accepting the creases

Sunrise moment of reflection at Alto de Poio, on my 2014 Camino.

I was thinking of the pains we cause each other and the way towards healing is often by taking the road of forgiveness.

It's not an easy map and sometimes it's easier to just carry that pain with you. Like the weight or stone that you carry on the Camino but leave behind at the Cruz de Ferro or any other place along the Camino. You must be ready to relinquish it and set it down, and lose that which burdens you.

It's a great image and it means much to me.

,.

But I'm learning that it's not enough.

A phrase came back to me this morning and it's a good reason why leaving the burden behind you isn't enough. You can't just leave a pain behind and forget it happened.

"You can crumple a piece of paper, but if you unwrap it, it still is covered in creases."

You can't just leave the burdens. You can't just say you forgave someone. If you want to use that piece of paper again, if you want to use your legs and back again after setting down that stone, you have to set down, to forgive, and to accept that things will never return to the way they were before.

Laying down the stone isn't about the stone. Straightening out a crumpled paper isn't about the rolled up wad in front of you. It's about what you wanted to do, couldn't do, and now are ready to do once again. And unless you accept that it will be different, you'll still be limping along.

That's why I walk for peace and reparation. I want to be reconciled, but more than reconciled. I want to be restored, but more than restored. I also want to be repaired. I want to be repaired, knowingly not to my original state, but to a state that gives me new maybe different functions and usefulness and beauty. Rebirth isn't about being born again in your current life. It's about something more, something different, something inspired.

On the walk, I pray for our rebirth as individuals, as a community, as a world where we set down our stones, accept the creases of our past, and see a path of lasting peace.

Learning & Re-learning. Re-tracing Your Footsteps

I've been re-reading and commenting on my blog postings written while walking along the Camino de Santiago in 2014. The blog postings are on this page and are also visible on the right sidebar of this web site.

I'm quite surprised at all that I was learning during that trip. Clearly, there was much to learn and absorb. There's a noticeable change in tone going from one challenge to the next. Most apparently in retrospect is the way my expectations and plans subvert and impede the movement of the Holy Spirit, as she moves me along the Camino.

And the lessons I learn and re-learn are similar to the re-tracing your footsteps on a trip. You want to think that once you've learned something, it's there, emblazoned upon your heart and mind, forever changing you. That's a wonderful aspiration and it's just not realistic. Like any journey or walk, you go astray. You wander. And you need to re-trace your footsteps to make sure you're on the right path once again.

During this review of blog posts, one day in particular - 18 months after it happened - made an impact on me. I'm referring to the post with the video I made re-creating my stop at the Cruz de Ferro.

The Cruz de Ferro is an enormous cross along the Camino. Many place objects of love at the base before continuing onward. Others like myself choose to leave a stone brought from back home. These stones are carried from hundreds or thousands of miles away in a pocket or in the backpack, representing the weight - emotional, spiritual, psychological - that holds us down, hurts us, breaks our backs. It might be a small pebble, but over the length of time and miles, we inevitably feel the pain of a boulder.

And we take this pebble and leave it at the foot of the cross. We leave it there for Christ, relieving our burden to the One who can bear it for us. It's a powerful metaphor that might be my favorite practice along the Camino Frances route to Santiago de Compostela.

I am truly wrecked re-reading that blog posting. I filmed via re-enactment a video that you can still watch. But what moves me is what I did. I admitted without any hesitation that the re-enactment was a sanitized moment of my personal act... where I could be strong, where I wouldn't be crying.

But I did cry. I sobbed, gasping for air. My stone represented the pain I carried from my divorce, and how I still felt it weighing upon me, even in re-marriage. It represented the poor choices I've made through my life, the impediments to healing, and the fears of intimacy.

I didn't film that intimate moment as it actually happened because I wanted to be seen more composed. Distilled. Strong.

I'll be frank here. This is singularly the area I'm most focused right now. I'm trying to stay "in the moment", always with a knowledge and acceptance of my authentic self. If I grow weak, if I mourn, if I cry out, if I fall to my knees in humility, I need to accept that this is ok. That there's no need for a mask. That I must be something more than I am. To be something other than myself is to reject the authentic self that theologians like Thomas Merton have described. That Christ wanted us to discover.

And any false self that we put forth only makes it harder for us to see, live with, and move towards the God of love.

I'm thinking that when I return on this Camino of Healing, I will again have a stone that I will have carried all the way from here. I will lay down the burdens of all who walk with me in that new stone. But there's something else I must do when I put down those burdens.

I'm bringing a stone from the Grand Canyon during a visit last month. I FELT and GRASPED that I was in a thin space, closer to a divine indescribable world that I imagine the Native Americans felt in that never-ending valley. I will place this sacred stone down for others...

And that something else I must do?... I will place it for me. For my weaknesses, for my pains, for my tears. Leave it out there in public for all to see. No masking. No re-creation. No false bravado.

For I do have fears when taking this journey. I'm noticing that I downplay my fears when talking with people. So here they are.

It's 600 miles from Lourdes to Santiago de Compostela. I can do the walking, as I walk long distances every week. Yet, I've got long-term health considerations that are genetic and of my own doing. I wonder if my hypertension will finally get to me. I wonder if, as I've read in news accounts, I will have a sugar level issue that exacerbates my borderline diabetes. I fear the rain, which along with my falls to the ground, brought on blisters. I fear the threat of bedbugs, even though I didn't see any. I fear heatstroke. I fear backaches. I fear being away from work. I fear being away from Stephen for a whole month until he meets me in Leon. I fear and yet I don't talk about those fears.

I will have walked 450 miles by the time I get to the Cruz de Ferro, carrying this stone, this rock that represents a bundle of anxiety that I knowingly and unknowingly carry with me.

And I'll leave that stone there, in the rain, in the sun, in the wind, in the dark, in the hail, in the public for all to see... There... at the foot of the cross.

Free of Stones - A Lenten Meditation

The stone I brought with me on the Camino de Santiago during my first pilgrimage in 2014.

The Cruz de Ferro stands as one of the most meaningful sites for me on the Camino de Santiago, along the Camino Frances route. It's about 150 miles from Santiago de Compostela, just after the mountain top town of Foncebadon.  In some ways, it may be the most Lenten pilgrim stop along the Camino Frances (French Route).

Perigrinos (pilgrims) typically carry a stone or pebble from home on their journey. Upon arriving at the Cruz de Ferro (Iron Cross), they see a mound of pebbles, rocks, photos, letters, and seemingly random items with a large thin monument topped by a cross.

The mound is made of all the pebbles and items left behind by the thousands of travelers from all over the world through the ages. You can climb onto the mound and many travelers find the sight an important milestone indicating that they are within days of the Compostela de Santiago.

The stones represent something quite powerful. Prior to a pilgrimage trip, peregrino travelers are instructed to reduce, Reduce, REDUCE the weight of their pack to make this arduous, long journey more tolerable. And yet, they carry with them a rock along most of the route. Why on earth would you carry unneeded weight on such a journey?

To me and to the pilgrim, the stone represents all the physical, mental, and even spiritual that weighs you down in life. And whether you realize it, acknowledge it, or deny it, that stone follows you on your journey. It follows you every day of your life. It's in your bags, in your head, in your heart.

Try as you might do otherwise, you go through life with unnecessary baggage. Emotional or spiritual, granite or mental, that baggage will slow you down. They might be your vices. They might be your habits. They could be your imagined self or your Facebook persona. They could even be the ones you love. All things of this earth can act like stones, at least some times.

It's humbling to know of the stones in your life; it's bewildering and frustrating to not know the stones in your life. Lent is an opportunity for us to unearth the stones in our life, to find them in the dust, and to leave them at the cross. It's in God's unimaginable love for us that we can discover that we don't need to carry the stones. We are meant to leave them behind.

The Roman Catholic Franciscan friar, Father Richard Rohr, describes this process as letting go.

“All great spirituality teaches about letting go of what you don’t need and who you are not. Then, when you can get little enough and naked enough and poor enough, you’ll find that the little place where you really are is ironically more than enough and is all that you need. At that place, you will have nothing to prove to anybody and nothing to protect.
That place is called freedom. It’s the freedom of the children of God. Such people can connect with everybody. They don’t feel the need to eliminate anybody . . .”
― Richard Rohr, Healing Our Violence through the Journey of Centering Prayer

When I saw the cross and laid down my stone, I cried. No. No, I sobbed. Sobbed because after enduring a couple falls on my first pilgrimage, I knew that I was carrying a stone that I did not need. I laid that stone at the foot of the cross, knowing that I could and would still stumble, but that the process of letting go, the search for freedom shown in resurrection, the journey towards God would be easier by laying it down.

Like the thousands of pilgrims who walked before me, I asked our Lord to carry my burdens for me.

May your Lenten prayers free you to walk with a lighter load.





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Bowl of Light and Stones at the Cruz de Ferro - An Advent meditation

A friend of mine in choir at All Saints Pasadena reminded us during her Advent meditation of a "story of the people".

Imagine an old bowl. It might look like a simple vessel, but for those who appreciate ancient wisdom from other cultures, it can mean much more. Here's a story from the Hawaiian people.

It is known that “each child born comes with a Bowl of Perfect Light.” And providing that the child is taught to carefully, mindfully tend to his or her light, the child grows in strength and is able to do all things - swim with the sharks in the deepest oceans, fly with the birds in the heavens, know and understand all things. If, however, the child becomes envious, jealous, judgmental he or she must drop a stone into their bowl of light, causing some of the light to go out, since light and stone cannot occupy the same space and time. And if one continues to fill the bowl with stones, the light will go out completely, and that person becomes a stone and like a stone, one no longer emits lights, grows, moves. One remains in this state of being. If at any time one tires of being a stone,  that person must realize that all he or she needs to do is turn the bowl upside down, letting all the stones fall out and making room in the bowl once again. Light can shine through and fill the bowl once more and grow even brighter than before. We must always remember that nothing is impossible, and a life in the darkness can be turned upside if we choose.

Though I had forgotten this story, it struck me how meaningful it would have been had I remembered it on my Camino de Santiago pilgrimage. The Cruz de Ferro is an extremely tall cross at the highest point on the walk across Spain. I had several blog postings about the Cruz de Fero which I share again here.

• Preparing for the Camino: Cruz de Ferro
• Cruz de Ferro visit
• Cruz de Ferro Video

The custom is to bring a stone with you from wherever you came from across the world. I brought mine from the 3200ft (1100m) mountain behind my house here in Southern California. The stone was carried across way, a reminder that you carry with you things that weigh you down, even on the most arduous of journeys. The pains and suffering we experience while taking the pilgrimage aren't helped by carrying that stone, just as the stones in our lives weigh us down and impede us on our life journey.

So we leave that stone at the cross, asking that our Christ, who carries our burdens and for us, to take that stone off us, relieving us of its weight, lightening our load. Some leave the stones plain, others like myself wrote on the stone the things that the stone represented. I left my stone at the cross and was overwhelmed at how much lighter I felt inside.

Advent comes in the middle of the darkest times of winter. And yet, in the stillness of the night, we still have hope that comes. We await and prepare for that hope. We turn over our bowls to make room for the light. We leave our stones behind at the cross. We remember that we can choose to walk away from the darkness and into the most humble and otherwise empty spaces to find the birth of a miraculous life and light.

Thank you Cynthia for reminding me in these times of winter's darkness that we, celebrating Advent, know that a light shall come and we can make room for that light in our bowls.

May all of us have the courage to turn our bowls upside down and may light perpetual shine on us.

May we help those too weak or poor to turn their bowls upside down and may light perpetual shine on them.

May we help those too powerful or rich to have the courage turn their bowls upside down and may light perpetual shine on them.

May we help those too frightened, confused, or lonely to turn their bowls upside and may light perpetual shine on them.

And may your stones be set down so that the light may arc into your bowl of life.

Camino de Santiago - Cruz de Ferro (Preparing #6)

One of the most compelling stops on the Camino de Santiago for me will be the Cruz de Ferro (Iron Cross). Travelers typically carry a stone or pebble from home on their journey. Upon arriving at the Cruz, they see a mound of pebbles with a large thin monument topped by a cross. The mound is made of all the pebbles and stones left behind by the thousands of travelers from all over the world through the ages. You can climb onto the mound and many travelers find the sight an important milestone indicating that they are within days of the Compostela de Santiago.

I find the symbolism of the stones both astonishing and powerful. Prior to the trip, peregrino travelers are instructed to reduce, Reduce, REDUCE the weight of their pack to make this arduous, long journey more tolerable. (Don't let your pack without water exceed 10% of your body weight! Egads, my work briefcase weighs more than 10% of my body weight.) And yet, they carry with them a rock along most of the route. Why on earth would you carry unneeded weight on such a journey?

To me and to the committed peregrino, the stone represents all the physical, mental, and even spiritual that weighs you down in life. And whether you realize it, acknowledge it, or deny it, that stone follows you on your journey. It follows you every day of your life. It's in your bags, in your head, in your heart.

Try as you might do otherwise, you begin any pilgrimage with unnecessary baggage. Emotional or spiritual, granite or mental, that baggage will slow you down. It's humbling to know of the stones in your life; it's bewildering and frustrating to not know the stones in your life.

The Roman Catholic Franciscan friar, Father Richard Rohr, describes this process as letting go.

“All great spirituality teaches about letting go of what you don’t need and who you are not. Then, when you can get little enough and naked enough and poor enough, you’ll find that the little place where you really are is ironically more than enough and is all that you need. At that place, you will have nothing to prove to anybody and nothing to protect.
That place is called freedom. It’s the freedom of the children of God. Such people can connect with everybody. They don’t feel the need to eliminate anybody . . .”
― Richard Rohr, Healing Our Violence through the Journey of Centering Prayer

I imagine seeing the cross and wincing. A growing understanding will strike my heart and I'll understand what I need to leave behind. Like the thousands of pilgrims, I'll leave the weight at the cross, asking our Lord to carry my burden for me.

Will I be alone or walking with newly made friends? I won't know for another month. But when the time comes, I'm sure I'll learn much about that which hampers our personal progress.

The stone I shall be bringing with me on the Camino de Santiago

I ask my friends to use me and my rock as their stone. Let me leave our collective impediments to growth and happiness beside the road, at the foot of the cross. I'll pray for all who wish to share their burdens and place a stone down for us all.

Thank you and bless you for joining me on this transformational journey.

I leave Los Angeles on September 10 and land in Spain September 11.

Please walk with me by donating to Episcopal Relief and Development

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Prior blog postings regarding the the Camino
Camino de Santiago - Introduction (Preparing #1)

Camino de Santiago - Pilgrimage (Preparing #2)

Camino de Santiago - Introduction (Preparing #1)

Camino de Santiago - Pilgrimage (Preparing #2)

Camino de Santiago - Going Alone, Together (Preparing #3)
 Camino de Santiago - Lasciate omni speranza (Preparing #4)
Camino de Santiago - Walking with Those in Need (Preparing #5)
Camino de Santiago - Cruz de Ferro (Preparing #6)
Camino de Santiago - Capo de Finisterre (Preparing #7)
Camino de Santiago - What's on the Playlist? (Preparing #8)
Camino de Santiago - What's on the Praylist? (Preparing #9)
Camino de Santiago - This Pilgrim's Prayers (Preparing #10)
Camino de Santiago - The Way (Preparing #11)
Camino de Santiago - The Road Not Taken (Preparing #12)