"I had three chairs in my house: one for solitude, two for friendship, three for society."--Henry David Thoreau
I think that one of the best things about aging is that I have more time for being alone, to accomplish that which I enjoy the most--like gardening, working with miniatures, writing, and reading volumns of fantasy and folklore. My world definitely seems to slow down, if not in actuality. This is good for me, because in times of solitude, I am better able to come to terms with myself than when in company. Solitude speaks to me of that which is important as opposed to that which is bane. I understand that time is a great healer while, at the same time, it is not always good to me. I know that yesterday is gone; tomorrow is a world away, and thus unpredictable. Today is really all that I have, and even then I never know what the next hour, even minute, will visit upon me. With age, my priorities have changed.
I have always thought of life as a journey--a Pilgrim's Progress, if you will. My journey to date has taken many varied paths and I am grateful for the learning experiences along the way. I am thankful that there have not been too many stones on which to stumble, and there have been no unmovable bolders.
Yes, there have been mountains to climb, but below ALL mountains are valleys of rest, refreshment, and rejuvenation. There have been obstacles, but not obstacle courses. The few times of difficulty, I know now, were times of testing, and God was always there to hold my hand and lead me through a trial.
In Bunyan's Pilgrim's Progress, Christian has to cross a deep bog in order to reach the Wicket Gate. A meaning-well stranger, Pliable, approaches Christian to offer him assistance, but a character flaw causes him to turn his back on the pilgrim when it becomes too dangerous. Like John Bunyan's Christian, my pilgrimage is beset with many difficulties as I, too, make my way toward the Celestial City. As a pilgrim, I am faced with many wet, spongy, dangerous bogs each day. Should I allow myself to loose firm footing with a foolish determination to cross critical masses? It is to my benefit to find alternative paths around the mires of fear, discouragement, dejection, and depression rather than languish therein like pince-nez gripping only the bridge of my nose. I rather need hooks to prevent slippage.
I have found that making a virtual pilgrimage to a sacred place, as an act of religious devotion, is a type of hook. A pilgrimage is a great help in dealing with human nature and problems associated with daily living, and it requires only ONE chair. A pilgrimage, even a virtual one, can teach many things--kindness, charity, humility, strength, experience, trust, cleansing, and renewal. Some of my virtual pilgrimages have taken me to Canterbury in England; Fourviere, Le Puy, and St. Denis in France; Rome, Loretto, and Assisi in Italy; Guadalupe, and Montserrat in Spain; Mariazell in Austria; Cologne and Trier in Germany, and Einsiedeln in Switzerland. The pre-eminent pilgrimages are to the Holy Land followed by Lourdes and Compostela.
Actually, a pilgrimage, to me, is the Christian counterpart of a vision quest. For both, it is a time when a person makes a commitment to go someplace to be alone with his thoughts, and with the Creator. Prayer, meditation, and reading plays a huge part in any pilgrimage as well as in vision quests--prayer for friends and their families, loved ones, and prayer for self.
I recently came across a personal narrative telling of a pilgrimage. This article by Ben Timberlake, describes his Pilgrim's Progress across 500 miles of Spain to the Shrine of St. James the Greater in Santiago de Compostela, one of the shrines I named above for my heart's desire pilgrimage. In his article, he shares experiences, and learnings along the way.
I would like to make a virtual pilgrimage and address the questions of kindness and patience. I often loose patience and want things done yesterday. Having the ability to show kindness, in difficult situations, is life changing, not only for the giver, but for the receiver.
Sir Frederick Treves was a leading physician in England. He was also the personal surgeon for Victoria, Edward VII, and George V. Yet this famous doctor always found ways to reach out to the poor and unfortunate.
A tale is told concerning Dr. Treves and an act of kindness. In 1884, Dr. Treves passed by an old building that displayed a banner depicting a horribly deformed man and advertising an admission price to see him. Dr. Treves bought a ticket and went inside. There he saw John Merrick, a man whose head was as large in circumference as his waist. Merrick's face was so hideously malformed that he could register no emotion. His limbs were also grotesquely misshapen.
Being deeply moved, Treves managed to rescue the man from this sideshow. He performed surgery to correct some of his deformities and placed him among people who could care for him.
The esteemed British-American cultural anthropologist, Ashley Montague, writes of Merrick in his clasic, The Elephant Man: A Study in Human Dignity. Merrick was later able to say to Dr. Treves, "I am happy every hour of the day."
What a wonderful reminder to show kindness to others, remembering that all individuals and cultures are different. In differences is found uniqueness, and in uniqueness are ideas from which all cultures can benefit.
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