Where I walk

For thousands of years, people have walked seeking spiritual renewal,  on the Camino Santiago,  a well worn path,  travelling from church spire to church spire.  Before the churches they walked from coven to coven, not as much is acknowledged about that time. 

 Yet we read of the history of witchcraft, and we heard there were no witches until the inquisition.  

It got me to thinking about racism,  and the awareness that where I walk every day, where I walked this morning to the bay to enjoy the beauty,  where I turned to Liw and said, “ we live here,”  Indigenous peoples lived and worked and walked and played. 

I live in a country of great privilege for many,  we are about to have an election in this province, Ontario,   where one of the questions is about taxation, who should bear the burden for the services that are offered.  

Is it true that to whom much is given much it required?   Do I, do we believe it?   What does it mean to love your neighbour as yourself?  Or are those values expired…

As I walked on the Camino in Spain, I was aware of the tremendous gift it was to be able to take three weeks out of my life to walk and to explore a place so new, so foreign to me.    I was able to meet people from fourty different countries, from many different spiritual/religious paths.   L

I liked the people I met, we did not argue, at least not much, about ideology and when Webster and I agreed that we disagreed about many things we wished each other well, and celebrated those things about the other we could truly celebrate. 

I was aware as I walked that there were not many people of colour on the walk,   and I contemplated why that would be.  

I do not see many indigenous people when I walk around my home,  and yet they were the first peoples on this land.     I read on the historical plaques around town about the history of the first peoples,  and about small pox and land claims disallowed. 

I believe I am responsible with all of my privilege to offer a different way of being in the world.  

I no longer find a home in Institutional Christianity.  I find great comfort in the teachings of Jesus and in the verse in Micah6:8. 

May the lessons I bring from the Camino and carry  in my ongoing life pilgrimage be to act justly, to love mercy and to walk humbly with my god ( dess) . 

Gkn May 30, 2018

Ten Things I learned while walking on the Camino

Part 1

1  Look carefully for wild roses before you chose where to pee

2  Look carefully for barb wire fences before you chose where to pee

   Look carefully for shepherds' before you chose where to pee

4 Look carefully for slippery rocks before you chose where to pee

5  Look carefully for pilgrims before you chose where to pee.

Part 2

1.     Notice always notice the direction of the wind before you chose where to pee.

2.     Notice always notice the  cattle in the field before you chose where to pee

3.     Notice always notice the young photographers in the area before you

chose where to pee.

4.     Notice always notice  the stinging nettles before you chose where to pee.

5.     Notice always notice the distance into the city before you decide not to pee.

 gkn May 2018

Returning

Surrounded by succulent sweet crab apple blossoms

dripping in the wind, the ground a pink carpet, creeping flocks,  

red yellow tulips alive and dead, deep purple iris,

a wicker chaise lounge cushioned  comfort,

filled with memories,  fields of wheat undulating,

unfamiliar beauty, wildflowers,

climbing  above constant change.

The Bay calls me, the heat,

invites perhaps demands,   jump,

like cool mountain streams at the end or middle

of those days welcomed toes and feet

filled with  bygone knowledge,

Roman,  medieval,  visible ruins.

I walk now on land,  remembering, that

where  I walk…”Indian children used to play…”

called to be aware to notice, history here.

 “ Jesus carried his burdens,”  he said

she replied “  I am not Jesus, and he was not sixty.” 

Yesterday, after the vegetable beds, were mulched, 

and seeds were planted,  the labyrinth was mowed and

dainty blues forget me nots were placed in vases, 

I watched rain fall, glee filled,

holding knowledge of thunderstorms,

in the valley, on distant mountain ranges, 

rain covers over packs,  swelling stick clicks on earth,

petitioning for five  more kilometres of grace.

You wave as you go by,  “ welcome home,’ 

familiar comfort on your face.

I met him, for the first time at the airport,

heading to St.  Jean,  three meetings later, he fell

into my arms,  a mountain climbed, descent accomplished,

we lost each other on day five.

She gave me my wedding album, fourty three years ago,

I was nineteen,    so young and wise,  

now changed.

Fourty countries more or less 

                            gifted me

with wisdom

                  from their citizens.

 

my pack sits empty on the floor,  

not put away,

not yet

gkn May 28, 2018

The Journey

with thanks to Mary Oliver always!

Today I finally know what
I need to do even as
the voices are calling to me
enjoy, bonne journe,
bendita peregrinacion
I do not know whether this
is a pilgrimage or merely a walk,
today I know in spite of or perhaps
because of all the voices calling out to me
that all of life is a pilgrimage
and this is mine.

My blessed life, my pilgrimage,
 nothing to mend, there will be stars,
there will be wind,  yes,
 there will probably be rain,  I will get
cold, and sore and grumpy and I
will have times of deep contemplation
and reflection and perhaps even
revelation and I will reflect on
my life on the Bay, in cool waters,
offering thanks for stiff and sore muscles
while walking in Spain.

The melancholy may be great and
the joy and the anticipation
as I notice this company I am keeping
as I walk deeper and deeper into
the woods, the mountains, on a path
that has been walked by sinners
and saints for centuries is
my own sinner saint pathway,
the voice I hear is a voice
familiar to me, the voice of
one life saved.

gkn May 2 2018