A PILGRIM SPIRITUALITY — free as the sky

“Follow your heart.” -John Bunyon

Korean people, including my parents, who have lived through the Korean war and its aftermath and its recovery based on a collective conscientious sacrificial effort know what it means to be poor and hungry. One general characteristic among many positives of that generation (the so-called “the greatest generation” according to Tom Brokaw) is that they often hoard and have difficult time letting their stuff go. It is an understandable trait. Had I lived through those times, I would have easily acquired the same trait. I know. Compared to my wife and my children, I am by far the biggest hoarder in my family. A few months ago, our entire family was “spring cleaning” our garage, trying to organize it after years of accumulation of stuff of who knows what. We decided to take EVERYTHING out of the garage first and then make the decisions on whether to keep or to toss. At the end of a few hours’ work, I could not believe how empty our garage looked. I realized quickly that I was the most sentimental hoarder. I kept asking, "Why would we throw that stuff away?" I was met with stares that said, "Are you kidding me?"

I have not gone on the Camino de Santiago pilgrimage in Spain yet. Hopefully in the near future. . . That was our grand plan during our sabbatical this year but alas COVID-19 hit, and the rest is history. I read several books and watched numerous movies/documentaries and clips on the pilgrimage. One of the inevitable lessons I will have learned is the carrying load, deciding how much stuff to take on the journey (The French Way is about 769 km long). Hearing from those who have gone on the trip, all shared the same lesson of lessening the load they carried. I often heard and read that every ounce (not even pound) counts. They would carry the guide-book (there is only one reputable one that is recommended) and it is not a light book. So what they would do out of survival mode is to simply rip off the pages they did not need. I have not gone on the trip so I can’t say too much about it.

However, I can venture to draw the parallel of how much stuff we carry between the Camino pilgrimage and our life—as pilgrims not as refugee-mentality-driven hoarders.

This practice of letting go and unburdening is at the core of pilgrim spirituality. You learn to travel lightly. More generally, as I ponder about the Camino de Santiago pilgrimage, I cannot help but to draw parallel between the French Way and my own life’s journey as a pilgrim. Below are some of the hard but precious lessons learned (and still learning and deepening) from my own life’s journey.

A Pilgrim Spirituality is . . .

. . . finding joy and grace through releasing and unleashing.

. . . discovering contentment through little, plenty, and surprises.

. . . finding answers through questions, hints, and guesses.

. . . giving myself grace for getting lost.

. . . saying “I don’t know” often.

. . . knowing when to rest, slow down, or speed up.

. . . realizing my actions are contextual and immediate wherever I happen to be.

. . . seeing what is real to me is not necessarily what is Real.

. . . making friends with doubts, curiosities, sufferings, and darkness.

. . . placing love over certainties and convictions.

. . . listening to the wildness of my body and nature around me.

. . . widening my parochialism and prejudices.

. . . recognizing The World is bigger than my world.

. . . discerning my inner prompts, inner cries and disillusionments.

. . . welcoming disillusionment with arms wide open because through disillusionment I wake up from my illusions.

. . . feeling and naming all feelings I feel.

. . . embracing both mundane and sacred. In fact, it is about learning that mundane is sacred and sacred is mundane.

. . . owning nothing but gaining everything.

. . . receiving every day as a pure gift and not under compulsion to control.

. . . making no distinction between what is human and spiritual.

. . . waking up to being fully alive, seamlessly integrating my humanity and spirituality.

. . . thanking God for my existence, others’ existence and everything around me.

. . . living as a willing and grateful citizen of the cosmic divine welfare system that is governed by the generous love of God.