Pilgrim Time

The busyness and noisiness of life jar my soul. I realize now that I need to schedule some pilgrim time.

Photo by Jorge Luis Ojeda Flota on Unsplash

More and more the Christian has to walk alone. When first he resolved to follow Jesus he had to abandon former acquaintances; and, as often as he essays to reach a loftier level, he has to part with some comrades. He has learnt the art of personal decision. If others will not ascend with him to the higher planes of holy living, he must go alone. —J.D. Davies

On an episode of the Books and Travel podcast this past fall, host Joanna Penn talked about her 14-day pilgrimage on the Camino de Santiago trail along the Portuguese Coastal route (many routes exist; this is the one she chose).

I’ve told you about my fascination with long-distance hiking. I developed this interest in the last few years, which is ironic since I’m too old and broken down to actually go on such a pilgrimage. Even so, I’m finding plenty of ways to enjoy it vicariously (memoirs, YouTube channels, social media, etc.).

Long-distance hikers live a stripped-down life (eat, sleep, walk). As someone who often feels stressed over basic daily concerns, this is really appealing to me.

Some long-distance hikers are on the trail to remember, some are there to forget and some are there to process. The simplicity of the trail allows pilgrims the time and space they need, no matter what their reason.

With that said, many end up processing in “tramilies” (trail families) — people who just happen to be hiking at the same time they are; in other words, they don’t necessarily choose them, although, ultimately, I guess they do. They usually find a way to not only get along but often, thrive as they march toward a common goal. We could all use a little more of that.

The thing about the Camino de Santiago that interests me is that it contains a spiritual element — a true pilgrimage that, legend has it, leads to the remains of St. James at the Cathedral of Santiago (in Spain). The trail originated in medieval times, so pilgrims have been hiking the trail for centuries.

Anyway, after Penn talked about her adjustment to living a simpler life out on the trail and her blistered feet (and loss of some of her toenails, just so nobody thinks it’s luxurious or anything), she mentioned being intentional about her re-acclimation into her normal routines when she returned home, recommending “pilgrim time” for anybody who followed in her footsteps.

“Have at least a day in Santiago de Compostela to look around and attend mass,” she recommended on her podcast, “but also keep your schedule clear back home. I was exhausted and needed to rest the first few days but also found I couldn’t just jump back into busy work and meetings and noise. I needed some reflection time before ramping into full speed.”

Whenever I’ve gone on business trips to attend conferences, I come back to culture shock. The busyness and noisiness of life jar my soul, often making me wish I could have had a softer re-entry. Looking back now, I realize I would have benefited from some pilgrim time.

Ironically, though, I once scheduled pilgrim time (without calling it that) while coming back from a cabin excursion for a few days with the guys.

I was writing a series of novels (that are unreleased as of this writing), and this particular town I stopped in played a role in the story. I hit a donut shop called Donut Run in the little town and jotted down notes of what I saw, tasted, and smelled.

One wall was covered with photos under the banner “Donut Wall of Fame.” I don’t know how one gets on that wall, but it had many hall of famers, which is a brilliant marketing strategy because who doesn’t want to take your friends there and point out your accomplishment of smashing a lot of donuts?

Next to the wall of fame, sits a gumball machine. I wondered if kids would even know how to use it. It brought back memories of those same types of machines that had little NFL football helmets in them. As a kid, I was trying to complete my collection but always ended up with a duplicate of a team like the Cleveland Browns, who had the most boring helmet in the history of football. But that didn’t stop me from shoving a quarter into the machine the next time I was at Kmart.

Behind the counter sat a cappuccino machine that looked like it came straight out of a gas station. I’m going to let you in on a secret — most gas station cappuccinos are better than the ones you can get in coffee shops. This coming from a guy who goes to a lot of coffee shops.

The glass counter housed all sorts of scrumptious donuts for $0.95 each: glazed raised, chocolate raised, peanut cake (is that a thing?), coconut crunch, coconut, sprinkled, and a dozen more. The entire place smelled like one big beautiful donut. I didn’t complain.

After I finished my coffee, I meandered down the gravel roads in the area for quite a while and finally found the perfect setting for the safe house my protagonist hides in. I pulled over to the side of the road and snapped a bunch of pictures. The imaginary safe house would fit perfectly tucked behind a long treeline. I took the time to actually picture the house.

My breathing was slower as the story’s details played out in front of me. This was it! It was worth going on pilgrim time.

As I’m writing this, I’m in a Starbucks that is close to my hotel. Snow is falling as the sun sets. It’s so peaceful. I’m the only customer in here right now.

My household had a COVID outbreak and I didn’t want to expose myself to it, so I booked a hotel room for six nights in my own hometown. I’ve never stayed in a hotel in my own city. But I think I need to do this more often — just to get away and think.

I’m near the end of this particular unplanned pilgrim time, and as anxious as I am to get back home (mostly because I don’t sleep well in hotels), I’m enjoying my room and all the amenities. The hotel is well-maintained and it’s relatively quiet.

As I pulled back the curtains in my room for the first time, I was greeted by a strip of grass and a brick wall that is covered in dying vines.

It’s not exactly the best scenery a person could hope for, but as the rain fell one day, the scenery felt perfect. Today’s snow makes it even better. The strip of grass outside my window is covered in less than an inch of snow, and the vines on the wall are mostly blanketed in a thin coating of magical white stuff.

Everything feels slower here in the hotel, especially on a day like today. And again, I’ve noticed that my breathing is noticeably slower.

I’ve kept the television off most of the time. The walls are thick enough that I can’t hear other people’s noise. After working in my room most of the day, I’ve been reading the Bible, reading a Mitford Series novel, calling friends to chat, and just sitting in silence.

Silence doesn’t freak me out or make me anxious. I crave it. Unfortunately, the peaceful time I was enjoying in Starbucks is no more. The music is a little too loud, which I find distracting.

That’s the thing about going into other people’s domains. You leave pilgrim time behind. And that’s fine for everyday life, but this is my last evening at the hotel, so after I finish writing this, I’ll go back to my room and read as the snow continues to fall in the background. That’s more the mood I’m after.

Eventually, I’ll warm up some leftovers for dinner that I have in the fridge from dinner last night. I’ll probably flip on Thursday Night Football and before bed, I’ll finally acknowledge that pilgrim time is over.

I’ll pack everything tonight so I can sleep in tomorrow — the final perk of pilgrim time before heading home tomorrow (less than five miles away), ever thankful for the time away. But now that I know that pilgrim time is a thing, I’ll be more intentional about taking it in the future.