I will not die an unlived life.
I will not live in fear
of falling or catching fire.
I choose to inhabit my days,
to allow my living to open me,
to make me less afraid,
more accessible;
to loosen my heart
until it becomes a wing,
a torch, a promise.
I choose to risk my significance,
to live so that which came to me as seed
goes to the next as blossom,
and that which came to me as blossom,
goes on as fruit.
~Dawn Markova
Imagine there’s no heaven
It’s easy if you try
No hell below us
Above us only sky
Imagine all the people living for today
Imagine there’s no countries
It isn’t hard to do
Nothing to kill or die for
And no religion too
Imagine all the people living life in peace
You, you may say
I’m a dreamer, but I’m not the only one
I hope some day you’ll join us
And the world will be as one
Imagine no possessions
I wonder if you can
No need for greed or hunger
A brotherhood of man
Imagine all the people sharing all the world
You, you may say
I’m a dreamer, but I’m not the only one
I hope some day you’ll join us
And the world will live as one
I want to believe in abundance. In my heart, I know that this is a better way to live, that it allows me to feel gratitude and to practice generosity and that it frees me from the old trap of “not enoughness”. For a few years now I have been practicing gratitude and living with a belief in abundance. Much of the time this has had to be a conscious and intentional decision, not a natural habit.
My skeptical mind questions whether there is an intellectual or reality basis for a belief in abundance. Is the universe really abundant or is it fundamentally a place of scarcity? Mostly I have tried to avoid my skepticism by accepting that both abundance and scarcity are really just narratives made up in an attempt to make sense of the world. As such, neither is inherently more true; so it really is a question of which story works the best for me. But, a nagging voice continues to question whether there is evidence to support the story of abundance or is it just wishful thinking?
When I read Roberto Venzola’s blog on Ten Hypothesis About Abundance and the Commons I became excited. Here at last was a well thought out intellectual basis for abundance. Information, by its nature, is abundant and wants to be free. Information is inherently reproductive. And there is abundant evidence of this in the evolution internet and the proliferation of information it has spawned. Yet, at the same time, there is a scarcity of fossil fuel and of clean water (at least with current technologies) and of arable farmland and of precious minerals. So, there are two very different phenomena – an abundance in the realm of information and ideas and a scarcity (or potential scarcity) in the realm of material things.
The material and the non-material realms have very different properties! What an obvious, yet profound, realization. If I believe in the old paradigm that the universe is fundamentally material then scarcity is a natural and logical premise. However, if the universe is fundamentally non-material, energetic, informational, spiritual, then abundance makes total sense. The physical world is only a manifestation of the abundance of the non-material world.
Suddenly I realize that my choice is not whether to believe in abundance or scarcity but, rather, whether I believe in a material or a non-material reality. For most of my life, I have intuitively rejected the values and lifestyle of materialism. Now I am beginning to realize that this rejection of materialism is a radical act with potentially life-changing and game-changing ramifications. It is not just some new-age, fuzzy-headed idea. It is consistent with contemporary physics which recognizes the non-material basis of the universe. The more scientists reduce things to their essence, the less they behave like matter and the more they look like energy or information.
So, what becomes possible if I truly believe in abundance? How much more generous and grateful could I become? What place is there for fear in a world of abundance? What if I truly accept that money is not physical currency but is actually information and a trust relationship – something very intangible and non-material? What if I develop the ability to see beneath every “real world” problem of scarcity and competition to the energetic or spiritual potential for abundant collaboration and creativity? How easy might it be to live in generosity and gratitude? This is the realm where I want to live and I want to develop the practices that allow me to do so.
“Why worry?” From the time I was a child, I have heard this challenge (usually with something about prayer attached). Worrying doesn’t accomplish anything. Just trust.
As I approached the beginning of my camino 
a week ago, I was very aware of the conversations going on around me in the bus and in my own head. They covered every possible contingency – the weather, budget, proper equipment, physical readiness, mental readiness, spiritual readiness, the weight of my pack, my “muy mal” espanol, and on and on.
It was easy for me to be condescending and critical of the conversations that I was overhearing. Obviously, they don’t know. Obviously, they are not comfortable with what they cannot control. Obviously, they are insecure and want to be able to plan for every contingency. When I looked inside and found myself engaging in a similar pattern of worrying over what I cannot control, I was humbled and saw it a little differently. After all, I am a veteran of one camino and I know (at least conceptually) that there is really nothing to worry about. The camino has centuries of experience in dealing with every imaginable problem and there are solutions within easy reach.
I know that worrying accomplishes nothing and I know that there is an alternative way of being. I have practices that help me to ground my thoughts and emotions and to access that inner place of trust. And yet, my inner dialog continued to oscillate between my own fears and my contempt for the fearful conversations of others. Fear is a powerful emotion! In th
e moment, I was not conscious enough to recognize it as such, but this was my fear expressing itself. And quite appropriately. I was about to begin a 500 mile walk, without knowing anyone else and with all of the very real possibilities of things going “wrong”. The old brain is designed to experience fear in such situations and my brain was working perfectly!
Perhaps someday, I will be able to turn off, or at least turn down, the primordial fear response. Maybe someday I will learn to recognize it for what it is in the moment. But I’m not there yet. What I appreciate is that I have come to recognize the importance of practice and its ability to hold me even when I am otherwise unable to ground myself. In this case, the practice is walking the camino, just taking one step after another. This practice is powerful. In a very short time, my attention had shifted from my fears to the sensations in my body (not all that positive at times as I struggled up the Pyrenees) and to my beautiful surroundings. My mood shifted from fear to gratitude and curiosity and awe.
As the kilometers increased, it has felt like the mud and silt in my mind is settling and a clarity is emerging. The sounds of the birds, the smell of wild flowers, the light on the mountains, the interesting conversations with other pilgrims – it all puts things into a different perspective. There really is nothing to fear. The camino will provide. Life will provide. I am right were I belong and I am blessed to be in this experience. Life is simple – get up, get dressed, walk, find a place to sleep, shower, wash my clothes, eat, sleep, and get up and do it all over again. With each step, it feels like I sink deeper into this simplicity and I am more able to let go of the old worries.
No, it is not bliss or enlightenment. It is damn hard work at times and sometimes it feels miserable as the road stretches ahead seemingly forever and the sun beats down on me and my pack reminds me that I am carrying too much. Today was a difficult day. Yet, this is not the same as living in fear and worry. It is about being fully alive and in my body. I am so grateful to be on this journey – this journey called the Camino and this journey called life – and for all that it has to teach me.
Having a conscious intention is part of what sets a pilgrimage apart from ordinary life. It is about making a journey for a purpose, even if that purpose is not fully clear. In fact, walking the Camino with a question can be a powerful intention. I have also found that the process of discovering and clarifying purpose was important preparatory work for my pilgrimage.
Last year, my intention was to learn to be open and accepting of whatever life had to offer and to learn to flow with what wants to happen. The Camino provided multiple opportunities to practice this and to learn lessons that continue to guide me. This intention to live life with more openness and acceptance and flow continues to be my intention in my life journey.
This year, I am starting the Camino with an additional, more specific purpose and intention. This time I want to integrate my work – coaching and hosting – with my pilgrimage. I want to develop an ability to integrate contemplative practice with work in the world. I am walking to explore the possibility of hosting other people on their contemplative journeys. Along the way, I intend to make time to stay connected with coaching clients and with hosting teams in preparation for up-coming trainings. It doesn’t feel like I have the luxury of being as disconnected from the rest of the world this time. So I am carrying my laptop and will be discovering how to connect with the “outside world” from the Camino.
Will I be able to let go of these responsibilities and concerns while I am walking? Will I be able to find the time and connectivity to be fully present in my work when those times come? Will I be able to relate to the the Camino and to other people as a fellow pilgrim or will I allow my focus on information gathering and design to remove me from the immediacy of my pilgrimage? These are the questions that I expect to be living with and learning from over the next few weeks. One of the beauties of pilgrimage as a practice is that it is also a microcosm of life. Whatever I practice and learn on this pilgrimage about integrating contemplation and action will shape my capacity for this integration in the rest of my life.
So, as I prepare to begin the walk, I want to restate my intention for this pilgrimage. I intend to be present to the integration of work and reflection in my life, to learn the skills and practices to flow between these two experiences and to be fully present in whichever one I am in. I am holding the image of the tides flowing in with power and clarity and flowing out with equal power and clarity.
One other thing that am learning about intention is that it is different from a resolution or an expectation. My experience with making resolutions or grand designs for self improvement is that they don’t work. I would begin with lots of enthusiasm but quickly run out of gas. I would get discouraged and focus upon my failures and mentally beat myself up. Before long, I would give up the project all together.
My experience with intentions is that I can hold them differently – more as a compass setting for where I am headed than as an expectation or obligation. When I find myself falling short of my intention, I can gently remind myself that this is a learning process and, like returning to my breath in meditation, I can begin again to realign myself with my intention. As I experience little successes, I savor them and cultivate a sense of generosity for myself and for what I am learning. In this way, with patience and gentleness, I am finding that my mental backpack is lighter and my journey is easier and more joyful and I experience progress toward my intention.
What is a Pilgrimage?
Saturday Morning in Madrid. This morning I got lost on Madrid’s Metro system and missed my bus to Pamplona. This messes up all of my plans and will probably delay the start of my pilgrimage by a day. What a way to start to this Camino! A costly mistake and an invitation to old patterns of self-criticism and judgement. Or maybe a wake-up call to the meaning of this experience.
In my focus to get to St. Jean Pied-de-Port, to get my pilgrim’s passport and to begin walking the Camino, I forgot that this is all part of the journey. It doesn’t start in St. Jean; I am already in the midst of it.. Sitting on the Metro platform and realizing that I was going to miss my bus is as much a part of the journey as the bliss of a beautiful sunrise on the Camino. Life is a journey and every moment is special and full of possibility and learning. How I handle the challenges and mistakes along the way are just as important as the Camino experiences. This is the journey.
Yet, there is also something special about a pilgrimage, something that sets it apart from the rest of the journey. What is this? One answer is that a pilgrimage is a practice, an intentional time set aside from the rest of life. Practices are those things we do with the intention of being changed by them. Walking the Camino has been a practice of letting go and living in the moment. There has been something very powerful in the simplicity of walking and carrying all that I need on my back. It provides a time for contemplation and lots of time for getting to know myself better.
Last year the Camino taught me a lot about taking life one step at a time and learning to trust that whatever I need will be provided, that whatever happens is just what was meant to happen and one more opportunity for learning. This morning at the Metro station, I experienced the fruits of this practice as I was able to take a deep breath and remind myself that this, too, is part of the journey and something to be embraced. When I remember that I cannot control life but I do have choices about how I respond to it, then I can let go and flow with what wants to happen. I am so grateful to be on this journey and for the preparation that my time of conscious pilgrimage has provided.
When a Taoist farmer’s horse ran away, his neighbors gathered to commiserate with him since this was such bad luck. He said, “May be.” The next day the horse returned, but brought with it six wild horses, and the neighbors came exclaiming at his good fortune. He said, “May be.” And then, the following day, his son tried to saddle and ride one of the wild horses, was thrown, and broke his leg. Again the neighbors came to offer their sympathy for the misfortune. He said, “May be.” The day after that, conscription officers came to the village to seize young men for the army, but because of the broken leg the farmer’s son was rejected. When the neighbors came to say how fortunately everything had turned out, he said, “May be.”
– Alan Watts, Tao: The Watercourse Way
“Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous? Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won’t feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine, as children do. We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It’s not just in some of us; it’s in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.”
~ Marianne Williamson from A Return to Love
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