Pilgrimage as a Tonic for the Body, Mind, and Spirit
Nancy-Lee Evans
I remember being at Mary’s Church at the medieval monastery at Glendaloch, a national park of extraordinary beauty, lush woodlands, glimmering lakes, verdant meadows and tumbling streams. Mary’s Church lies outside the consecrated grounds of the monastery itself. It was a women’s sanctuary and a place where those who were not baptized could be buried. Women running from whatever might compel them to leave all that they had ever known could find haven there, with the stillborn babies. The walls of this tiny, now roofless, stone church were of local schist mixed here and there with blood-red quartz.
Our small group of pilgrims had come to pray with the very tangible
spirits of that place for peace and justice. Sitting on the
gravel floor under the roofless sky I felt grief, though none had been
with me on arrival. As the others slowly left, I slumped against the wall to let the tears come. In
time, I found myself rising to step outside into the little graveyard
filled with unmarked slabs of slate marking each grave. As tears streamed down my face, I found
myself stroking the slate grave marker in front of me as the presence
of a young woman came into focus. She was on her knees at my
feet, her arms wrapped around my waist as mine were about her. I stroked her blond hair. She wept in
heartbreak, grief and relief for what she had had experienced, what she
had left behind and what she hoped she would find here. It was a
moment out of time that moved me deeply. I
cherish its memory.
In this country, most spiritual seekers have heard of the vision quest
as a method of gaining spiritual inspiration and direction. This is a
central practice of Native American peoples in which, at a personal
crossroads or as a rite of passage, the seeker spends three to four
days fasting alone in the wilderness in pursuit of a vision from
Spirit. The experience is life defining.
Perhaps less understood in this country is the practice of spiritual
pilgrimage. In many older cultures, pilgrimage has served much the same
purpose as a vision quest. A pilgrimage may last for just a few days or
extend for months, even years. As with all spiritual quests, it is the
purpose that defines the pilgrimage. Everything that happens—from
the people met to the experiences encountered—is understood as a
meaningful expression of the pilgrimage’s lessons.
Pilgrims journey together. It is a community affair, less about
solitude than mutual support and giving witness to each other’s
experience. As they settle into the journey, pilgrims reflect on life
and become clearer about what is truly important. It is a time apart in
which, at its best, a natural rhythm reasserts itself beyond the
tensions and strains of personal life. If unhurried, the body unwinds
its chronic holdings. On pilgrimage to sacred places in nature,
there are welcome opportunities for fresh air, sun and exercise that
allow for the unique energies of one’s changing—and healing—to work on
body, mind and emotions. In addition, many sacred sites are renowned
for healing, such as Lourdes in France, the Chalice Well in England,
and the many wells of Brigit in Ireland.
Sacred places are ‘sacred’ because they are luminal places, where
heaven and earth meet. There is an energy at such places that
draws seekers, catalyzing transformation, remembering or visions. The
old Celts of Europe called them “thin” places because the veils that
separate the human experience from the divine are thinner there. Even
today, it is possible to step away from the crowds and well-worn
tourist destinations to find these ancient places of living spiritual
presence. Indeed, the deeply feminine energies of stone circles, holy
wells and ancient monasteries have transformed the world over (moved
from end of sentence) lives in an unbroken tradition from the earliest
days of honoring the Goddess through the modern era.
To understand the transformative power of pilgrimage, it is useful to
consider the spiritual traditions of the Celts, the ancestors of the
modern European peoples. Dana or Danu,
the Mother Goddess of the Celtic peoples, was—and is still—known as
radiance, shining, brilliance, the water, fire, land, people and all of
Creation. She can be gentle and nurturing or challenging and even
hostile.”
This word “dana” has a great synergy of meaning that
gives insight into both the Celtic spiritual mind and the relationship
between spiritual purpose and the energies of sacred place. besides
being the name of the goddess creatrix, It is the Gaelic word for chi or prana, the energy that infuses
all of life. There is also a third meaning for dana as
expressed in the term “aois dana,” meaning the
people of the dana, the gifted ones, healers, harpers,
the people of vision. FRANK Mac Eowen in The Mist-Filled Path suggests
that these ancient gifted ones are still available to us
and “are ready willing and able to aid, instruct and guide us in
becoming…people who are seeking a spiritual way of balance harmony and
ecological consciousness.”1
To add to our understanding of dana, we might explore
the root word, dan. Its meaning in Old Irish is craft,
art, science, skill, or know-how. A later modern Irish meaning of dan is fate or destiny. And with this, we see the
interweaving of the meanings of dan and dana
that formed the foundation of a pilgrimage. A primal
transformative spirit (Dana) working with the energies
of life (dana), with the assistance and guidance of
helper spirits (the dana) is actively rendering
support for the fulfilling one’s skill or destiny (dan).
These are the energies found in sacred sites that offer such profound
opportunities for transformation!
Frank MacEowen, in The Mist –Filled Path,
describes, her as “a life affirming goddess … and this complex of
energies as a “prime initiator of cellular shifts in consciousness. If
we have emotional blocks, encumbrances or limited ego perceptions we
need to cast off, they will facilitate the
process, helping us to have more access to our spiritual selves rooted
in the soul and soul of the earth.”2
I was visiting Newgrange, the restored megalithic ceremonial cairn in
County Meath, Ireland, for the
second time. Once again I had been into the inner womb-like
chamber of this great mother of an earth mound. The
docent’s flashlight mimicked the rising sun’s rays of winter solstice
morning penetrating the otherwise lightless chamber for 17 minutes.
In a miracle of 5,000 year old engineering, light illuminated the
magnificent 20-ton sandstones that form the walls and ceiling of the
cairn, many carved in beautiful spiraling patterns and
petroglyphs. I pressed myself to the stones, melting into
them and their ageless stories. Too soon we left the chamber for the
sunlight, before making our way back to
the bridge that crosses the River Boyne and the busses.
I balked at crossing the
bridge meant leaving this precious place
and time for an all too ordinary reality. Already the power of
Newgrange was reorganizing my energy fields! Dropping down on a park
bench, I surrender to the energetic maelstrom. the transformation
took a mere `15 minutes. arising, my head had cleared, my heart
aligned, my body centered and my destiny honed. cellular shifts of
conscoiusness indeed.
[1]Frank MacEowen, The Spiral of Memory and Belonging: A Celtic Path of Soul and Belonging (Novato,CA: New World Library, 2004) 47
2 Ibid, 45
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Nancy Lee-Evans is a healer, teacher, spiritual
director and director of the Anam Cara Program of Spiritual Development
and Healing. She invites you to join her August 2006 pilgrimage
to sacred sites in Ireland.