Mom and Dad with Judy and Joyce
Chemin St Jacques Pilgrimage 2004
Paris - Getting Started
My brother in law John (Judy's husband) drops me off at the airport. John too has been so kind to me ... particularly during the past 7-8 years. I have an hour or so before the flight leaves ... not much time to get into any trouble. Hmmm! I check in and shortly afterwards I find a place inside the airport where smoking is allowed.
I think to myself ... what a treat! I can sit, have a coffee and a few cigarettes ... my favorite pastime ... what a boring life eh! As I go to open the door to the smoking room ... I notice a note on the door ..."minimum purchase $5.00!
Yikes! Much too extravagant for me ... I decide to buy a coffee at the Second Cup and head outside for my coffee and cigarette. I just light my cigarette and a man approaches me ... he asks me for a cigarette ... I oblige. We start to chat ... he tells me that he has had a terrible day ... lost his passport (he is from Ireland) ... his money etc.
He learned that if he could get to Ottawa he could get a new passport within a couple of hours. Unfortunately he did not have the $60.00 it would cost to take the train to Ottawa. A feeling of 'fear' started to swell up inside me. Thinking to myself. Oh no! He is going to ask me for 60 bucks ... yikes!
My fear was well founded. Eventually, first with body language and later with words he gently asked me if I could help him. I tried to escape this dilemma with the excuse that I was on my way to Europe and only had a few euros in my pocket. While chatting my memory was retrieving those times when I was stranded somewhere and there always seemed to be someone there to help me ... but $60.00 ... ouch!! Eventually he progressed to the question of a card ... one of those plastic cards that give us access to cash ... almost anywhere. Today that 'almost anywhere’ could be a curse!!
I was trapped! How could I convince him I had no cash and no card that would provide me with access to cash!! It would be hardly credi-ble that I would be on my way to Europe with no cash and no ‘plastic money’!
He knew the location of the cash machine in the airport. This should have tipped me off that something strange was happening! ... didn't even get a chance to finish my cigarette! ... and I lost track of my coffee somewhere along the way to the cash machine!!
My plan to enjoy one last cigarette and coffee before getting on the airplane had evaporated. While the cash withdrawal was in progress he was telling me how he actually needed $65.00 and one thing lead to another. Before I pressed the 'OK' button ... the $60.00 grew to $100.00 ... yikes!!! And I was too cheap to spend the $5.00 to smoke inside the airport.
That'll teach me eh!! I left him with my email address ... don't know if I will see the $100.00 again. Oh well! I remembered my faith ... it's not about trusting this person or that person ... it's about trusting God! After repeating these few words to myself a few times ... I recover and I am almost grateful for having had the opportunity to help someone ... almost!
Just before boarding the airplane I recalled a dream I had a few nights before. I was stranded in some foreign country ... with no passport ... no money etc. Was it me in the dream or this man from Ireland? I get on the plane ... a young lady is in the seat assigned to me ... she quickly apologizes and moves to the seat in the next row directly behind me. The last of the passengers board and I am still alone in this block of 3 seats ... Yuppie!!! I will be able to lay down and sleep during the flight ... perhaps a reward for helping the man from Ireland.
Nope!!!
Before I finish my supper a man from the other side of the plane comes to sit in the seat at the end of my row. What? I thought it was an unwritten law of long haul flights. When someone is alone in a block of seats he or she intends to lie down and sleep. As a matter of fact I remember participating in a game of sorts ... to see who can get to an empty row of seats first?
So this gentleman makes himself comfortable ... I figure he is here for a long time ... not a good time! Poop! Now about the lady who was sitting in my seat when I boarded the plane, who is now sitting directly behind me. Seems she intends to work during the flight ... her table is down and she is doing some sort of paperwork ... Yuk! Now I can't even put my seat back! ... What's going on?
In a matter of a few minutes I go from the excitement of thinking I will be able to lay down and go to sleep ... to being compelled to attempt sleep with my seat in the upright position. I feel obliged to accommo-date the young lady behind me who is trying to do some work ... poop! ... Double poop!! These are not good omens so far eh!!!
Several hours later, the gentleman who scooped my sleeping area returns to his original seat for breakfast and the young lady behind me lays down to sleep just before breakfast. Yup! This young lady had a block of 3 seats all to herself ... all night! Now why didn't the gentle-man sit in her row? His seat was directly across ... who knows eh! Life can be full of mystery sometimes!!
The airplane lands safely at Charles de Gaulle airport. I haven't had much ... if any ... sleep. What's next??
Arrival in Paris
Since nothing happened on the way ... to alter my course that is ... I decide it's off to Vezelay!
I'm feeling OK ... eventually find the train station ... it's in the airport. Yet finding it is no small accomplishment for me ... I get lost in a parking lot.
I go round and round trying to find transportation to this place called Vezelay ... directed from one line-up to another ... no one seems to know where it is ... and I have the impression it is in southern France, which is completely wrong by the way!
I'm surprisingly patient ... I decide to enquire again about a bus ... to southern France. The young lady at the information kiosk tells me there are no buses that go to southern France. Seems the only public transport to southern France is 'train'. Seems odd to me and of course I don't believe her ... turns out she is right though.
I am still wandering around aimlessly ... spot the Sheraton Hotel ... figure there must be someone in there who can help me. In I go.
Now imagine this picture ... me with my backpack ... my walking stick ... my funny looking hat ... walking into this 5 star hotel. By all societal norms I should be immediately escorted to the door.
I plead my case with the first employee I see ... he gives me a friendly smile and suggests I go see the concierge ... so good so far. I hang around the concierge's desk for several minutes ... he is busy with paying clients.
My turn eventually comes ... he listens attentively to my plea ... Yup ... attentively! What a pleasant surprise ... a better reception than at all the other enquiries ...And "bingo" ... he has heard of Vezelay. Tells me he knows the region well He gives me instructions and a map. I must find my way to a train station in Paris via the subway. A bit intimidating ... but I finally have some information.
He also mentions Nevers ... unprompted ... in our conversation. I take this as a positive omen. I find my way to the train station ... buy my ticket ... and have a couple of hours to wait. There are so many people in this train station ... so many!
I settle down in a less populated area ... eventually lay down resting my head on my backpack. All the while there is this lady who is trying to use the pay telephones right beside me. There are 3 pay telephones and she wanders from one to the other ... going through some ritual. She is cursing the telephones and the telephone company. I think I picked up some new swear words in French.
She was doing this when I arrived and she was still doing it when I left ... about 3 hours later ... what tenacity! ... What persistence!
The people around would watch her and listen to her. Their response varied ... some laughed ... some discussed her behaviour with the stranger standing beside them ... some frowned. Reminds me of something you might see on 'candid camera' or 'just for laughs'.
I get up wanting to go for a coffee. I haven't eaten since the meal on the airplane. Scanning the menu ... small espresso 1.25(euros), large espresso 1.95 and espresso with milk 2.00 euros. I don't like black coffee ... but it seems I am too cheap to spend the extra few pennies! I decide on the 1.25 small espresso coffee.
I turned around, headed for a stool where people put their coffee and elbows! Still turning ... haven't completed the 180 degree turn yet ... I'm approached by a young lady with her hand out. She is asking me if I have any 'small' money. Wonder what she means by 'small' money?
Here we go again! This is the gentleman from Ireland all over again. Too cheap to buy milk for my coffee and here I must dig into my pockets and empty them of all the coins! Paying for the milk would have been much cheaper.
Thinking to myself ... what am I supposed to learn with these experiences? First it happened at the airport in Canada and now at the train station in Paris. I haven't even arrived at my destination (Vezelay). I figure it must be something to the effect ..."spend it or I will take it away from you"
After some more sober refection I come up with something better. Here I am, headed to Europe in the financial condition sometimes written on bathroom walls ...
Here I sit broken hearted
Paid a dime and only farted
Yesterday I took a chance
Saved a dime and shit my pants
Or perhaps more politely ... "I don't have a pot to piss in”. Yet I am hopeful that I will somehow survive. In order to survive, I will be the recipient of someone else's generosity ... so I better be prepared to be generous myself! Who knows eh ... we will have to wait and see.
While I was dozing ... or almost dozing ... my head buried in my backpack ... hat over my head ... I felt a hand tapping on my shoulder. I turned around ... still in a bit of a daze ... seems the sleepless night was catching up with me ... and found myself looking down the barrel of a rifle.
Trying to focus ... I make out a soldier bent down beside me holding his rifle and in my peripheral vision I could see 2 more soldiers. Oh! Oh! This doesn't feel so good! The memory of almost being arrested in Bethlehem in December (another story) was flashing through my mind.
After my eyes were able to focus enough to see his face ... the anxiety I felt quickly faded. He was wearing a friendly look. He asked me in a very friendly tone if I was OK ... I smiled and replied ... yes ... a bit tired though.
The time to catch my train arrives ... whew!!
While waiting for the train a public announcement is made about some disturbance in the area of Nevers causing a delay for the train arriving from Nevers. The same announcement was posted several times on the large electronic bulletin board ... hmmm ... maybe someone knows I am on my way to Nevers.
Paris - Meditations While Waiting for the Train
There are so many people, coming and going, each pursuing their own agenda, carrying or dragging their personal baggage ... physical and emotional). Occurred to me that mankind has done a pretty good job in the of maintaining order. Maintaining conditions where people; men, women and young adults feel safe to venture outside their homes ... to the train station for example Vis a Vis in a jungle where each person is left to themselves.
The strong imposing their individual agenda and wishes on the weak ... etc I am intrigued that I feel so positive about 'civilization' right now ... where did all the unfavourable thoughts and opinions go? My sleepy eyes observed the faces of seemingly countless people today.
I always find it interesting how most often our facial expressions portray our state of being, particularly if we are pursuing our own agenda and not involved in drama or theatrics to influence the outcome or opinion of others. A happy face seems to stand out in a crowd - not so many of them! Sad faces likewise!
A face projecting a state of carefree cheerfulness ... a phrase from Augustine's book "Confessions" I have reprinted it here...
"How unhappy I was and how conscious you made me of my misery, on that day when I was preparing to deliver a panegyric on the emperor! In the course of it I would tell numerous lies and for my mendacity would win the good opinion of people who knew it to be untrue.
The anxiety of the occasion was making my heart palpitate and perspire with the destructive fever of the worry, when I passed through a Milan street and noticed a destitute beggar.
Already drunk, I think, he was joking and laughing. I groaned and spoke with the friends accompanying me about the many sufferings that result from our follies. In all our strivings such as those efforts that were than worrying me, the goads of ambition impelled me to drag the burden of my unhappiness with me, and in dragging it to make it even worse; yet we had no goal other than to reach a carefree cheerfulness.
That beggar was already there before us, and perhaps we would never achieve it. For what he had gained with a few coins, obtained by begging, that is the cheerfulness of temporal felicity, I was going about to reach by painfully twisted and roundabout ways. True joy he had not. But my quest to fulfill my ambitions was much falser.
There was no question that he was happy and I racked with anxiety. He had no worries; I was frenetic, and if anyone had asked me if I would prefer to be merry or to be racked with fear, I would have answered 'to be merry'.
Yet if he asked whether I would prefer to be a beggar like that man or the kind of person I then was, I would have chosen to be myself, a bundle of anxieties and fears. What an absurd choice! Surely it could not be the right one. For I ought not to have put myself above him on the ground of being better educated, a matter from which I was deriving no pleasure.
My education enabled me to seek to please men, not to impart to them any instructions, but merely to purvey pleasure. For that reason you 'broke my bones' (Ps. 41: 11;50: 10) with the rod of your discipline(Ps. 22: 4)."
Carefree is a word that speaks volumes. This condition is most evident in toddlers ... children of the age where they don’t worry about where their next meal will come from. My memory won't open the drawers of my mind storing my particular memories of this period in my life. Those times in my life when 'carefree cheerfulness' prevailed ... now I can only imagine.
"State of Carefree Cheerfulness" ... the word 'state' infers a finite space ... a geography ... bound with outer limits beyond which is outside the 'state' and within which exists the 'state' For example there are 51 states in the USA. Seems to me there are more than 51 'states of being' ... the sad state ... the sorry state ... the happy state etc
How do we migrate from state to state? How do we stay in a 'preferred' state? What are the conditions, terms, influences etc that form the 'railway tracks' that transport us from state to state? Are all within our control? Why? Why not?
How do we protect the boundaries? Who are the 'soldiers' on guard at the frontiers of our current 'state of being'; preventing the entrance of 'contaminants' or 'enemies' into our current 'state of being'.How are these 'soldiers' nourished? ... Strengthened? ... Trained? How do we stop them from going A-wall and allowing our 'state' to change? For example form 'happy' to 'lethargic’.
Arrival in Vezelay
After almost missing the transfer from the train to a bus ... the bus stopped at Avallons. All passengers disembarked so I figured this is the end of the line. Decide to confirm my assumption with the bus driver … nope! Vezelay is the next stop. I am the only passenger continuing to Vezelay ... hmmm! Seems to confirm my feeling that much of my 'journey' is destined to be 'solo' ... me, myself and I!
Arrive in Vezelay … nervous feeling in my stomach …is this place the famous starting point for the Chemin St Jacques in France. While I’m pulling my backpack out of the storage area of the bus I get up the courage to ask the bus driver if he knows of the Chemin St Jacques. A rather abrupt and unfriendly "non" … with a turning of his head from side to side to confirm his response …international body language for the word "no".
Assume by now he knew French was not my mother tongue and just in case I did not understand the French word "non" … he left no room for discussion with his body language.
Now a bit more nervous I head down the street … walking past a busy restaurant … I notice a lady standing alone at the outdoor patio of the bar next door. What the heck! … Thinking to myself, might as well get this over with. If I’m in the wrong place I might as well know.
What a pleasant surprise … this kind lady actually has heard of the Chemin St Jacques. She rather enthusiastically engages in conversa-tion with me. I hear the word "religieux" and what sounds like a refuge for pilgrims … my French is still quite rusty!
What a relief! I follow her directions and start walking up the hill. I am tired now. It has been about 24 hours since leaving Canada. I’ve only had one croissant and 2 coffees all day … too cheap! Maybe I would like to stop for a beer and a couple of cigarettes … but it is getting late … almost dark … figure I had better get on with the task of finding a place to sleep.
Several hundred meters up this hill I notice a sign "Franciscan" something or other and an announcement on the bulletin board with a photo of Ste Therese de Lisieux (more about this later).
I walk into an open area … a few people sitting around this inner courtyard. One of the ladies sends me an inquisitive glance. The look that says; ‘What do you want? … Or … What are you looking for?
See … I don’t need to understand French. My travels in foreign countries where the language of the day is not English or Canadian forced me to improve my understanding of that international language known as ‘body language’.
I explain to this lady that I am looking for a pilgrim’s refuge … she quickly replies … absolutely no space here. She is now quite conge-nial; perhaps now that she knows I am a Chemin St Jacques pilgrim and not simply a vagabond! She accompanies me back out onto the street. More body language here; with this action she is confirming her comment about no space here.
She is talking to herself ... she says ... "where can I send you?" Before she has a chance to answer herself, I jump in and let her know what the friendly lady at the bar down the hill had told me. She said something about ‘religieux’ and a place to sleep. Just as I finished my sentence the church bells started ringing.
The lady looks at her watch and says rather excitedly "Oui l’office … l’heure de l’office". I figured out a few minutes later her excitement may have had its’ roots more in the thought of getting rid of me than figuring out a place for me to sleep.
What an unkind thought eh! And about this nice lady who has no obligation to help me with anything.
She explains to me that I will be able to find one of the Sisters … ah huh! ... I figure this must be the meaning of the word 'religieux' … after l'office and can ask her for help.
By now I have interpreted "l’office" to mean prayer time. How long is prayer time? No idea … and remember … at the moment I’m in the mood for a beer … not prayer!
Encouraged nonetheless I head towards the church. I spot 2 nuns across the street opening a door into one of the buildings there. Now I am excited. I can get the help I need without waiting for the "l’office" to finish or … worse yet … attend "l’office".
I quicken my pace and follow the 2 nuns into the building. As I am entering the building I think to myself … this is pretty audacious of me … I must be desperate! I explain myself to one of the nuns … she is quite friendly and replies … "wait until the l’office is finished and than ask one of the nuns for help. … Hmmm. Seems my audacity was ill conceived after all!
Also seems this ’cheap’ place to sleep comes at a price. I decide to attend l'office prayers ... the beer will have to wait! The prayer time was quite pleasant ... mostly the singing of prayers by the nuns and monks. The voices were splendid ... the event was long! I would come to really enjoy the choir of nuns and monks over the next few days.
It became completely dark while I was in church. When the prayer time was finished I quickly tried to figure out how to intercept one of the nuns on their way to wherever they go after l’office. Presumably somewhere outside of the church … rather basilica … very large basilica!
I retrieved my backpack and walking stick and exited the side door of the basilica … no nuns coming in my direction … start to panic a bit! Thinking oh no! They will all escape and than what will I do?
Quickly went to my contingency plan … what contingency plan? I had none! Instinct was all that remained. I saw the monks heading gener-ally in my direction … I would approach a monk … why not? I am almost desperate now … not really … yet the prospect of paying for an expensive hotel room or sleeping on the street was not very appealing at the moment.
I intercepted one of the monks … so much for courtesy again! I pleaded my case. His face was kind and he seemed empathetic towards me. He asked me to wait while he finished his tasks. He was carrying a musical instrument into the vestibule when I almost tripped him to get his attention.
I waited outside as several monks entered the vestibule ... de-robed and walked past me again on there way out. Several pleasant “bonsoirs” but no offers to help. A few minutes later the monk with the kind face returned to assure me that he hadn't forgotten about me and that he would only be another minute or so.
Could he somehow feel my impatience?
He returned and motioned me to follow him ... ah finally ... off to my cheap accommodation.
We walked together to the monk's residence. On entering the residence he explained to me that talking is a no-no in the residence. I was impressed … my kind of place … no noise! He returned with a couple of small pieces of paper in his hand. One piece of paper had a map to the refuge and on the other the code to get in the place. He explained the basics to me and apologized that there would likely be nothing to eat for breakfast at the refuge. I was happy to have a bed … I said thank you and headed back down the hill.
Now I am really in the mood for a beer!
The reasons for wanting a beer earlier were still present ... tired ... thirsty ... hungry ... and now I could add "celebration'. Celebrate the fact that I now have a bed to sleep in ... which I presumed would be free or for a nominal fee.
I enjoyed my beer and considered that attending the l'office prayers was not such a high price to pay!
When I arrived at the house and I scanned the bulletin board for information ... nothing about pilgrims on the bulletin board. As I stood there and pondered this newest dilemma, a young man entered the house ... Benoit ... and within a few minutes it was determined that I likely should be sharing his room.
I later discovered the 'house' is maintained by the Sisters and it is quite unusual that a monk would direct me to the house and not to the 'Sisters' for help. Hmmm
The room was small with 4 beds. I slept in the top bunk. The next morning I felt like I was run over by a truck ... a 100 ton truck! I couldn't move ... let alone get up. I finally got out of bed around 11:00AM ... hungry! I went to the local bar and ordered a large coffee with milk.
In France seems the milk is not heated like in Spain and the coffee is very strong. Wandered up the hill and stopped in at the tourism office. Learned that an office of the 'Friends of Santiago' was upstairs ... good news. Figured I could at least get some information. I met a very talkative and generous lady. She explained a lot. She showed me a package of papers neatly organized ... a map and itinerary of the French Camino. I learned it was about 900 kilometers to the Spanish border ... ouch!!
Conversations with Benoit ... I talked too much. Swiss lady who brought Benoit and I some lunch in the park ... I had some bread and wine.
Permission to stay another night ... Benoit
Lonely or sad feeling when Benoit left on Friday morning. Andre arrives ... chat ... his story ... his daughter Sophie ... we meet in St Pere. Martial arrives ... no conversation.
Walk to St Pere to attend veneration of relics of St Therese ... had walked the previous day and yet today I got lost ... hmmm
Relics of St Therese show up at basilica in Vezelay in the evening. A group of 800 young people in village for a retreat.
May 23, 2004 ... walking
It's time to leave Vezelay ... first stop is St Pere ... 2 kilometers. I have been in St Pere before ...went for the veneration of the relics of St Therese ... I know the way ... or do I?
One hundred meters of road and than the 'goat trail' ... no familiarity ... I keep going ... climb the hill. Yup! ... I'm lost! Reminds me of last years walk ... getting lost on my way out of Seville ... is this an omen?
I see the church steeple of St Pere. The Camino guide I purchased says "fourches" ... keep left. OK ... I head back and find this unused trail alongside a grape field. I follow this trail to another dead end ... yikes!
I walk almost back to the highway and find another 'fourche' with a little yellow sign indicating that the Camino trail turns left here ... how did I miss it? ... Oh well!
The 'goat trail' turns on to a road into St Pere ... the first street sign is "St Christopher ... I assume Christopher Columbus ... yet another reminder of last years Camino where I learned before leaving Seville that many people believe the tomb of Christopher Columbus is in the Cathedral in Seville.
There is a coffee shop in St Pere. I sit and review the guide map and the directions. Also read the book I picked up at the church about St Therese of Lisieux.
Remembered Julia’s comment ... "Bruce this is 2004 ... nobody cares about what’s on the inside! Such wisdom! She should not have experienced the 'thorns' of life at her young age. Seems to me she should not be so wise ... so aware ... so frightening.
Timing ... oh! ... I'm tired now ... walked around 14 kilometers. A gorgeous day for walking ... route is tres scenic ... rolling hills ... no walking on roads ... all 'goat trail'. The branches of the trees form an umbrella for protection from the sun ... cool breeze ... voila! ... What a great day!
As I walk along I reflect on the day ... what has happened so far today? Not much. Spent most of my time while walking 'connecting the dots'. The phrase 'connecting the dots' refers to the children’s' game ... where a zillion dots are individually numbered. The child is expected to connect the dots numerically and when finished ... or almost finished ... the image appears on the page.
Seems that way to me today ... how events of the past 10 years or so, the individual dots, seem to connect and bring me here to this day ... this trail ... these reflections ... musings of a bored man? ... Or ... will some 'image' materialize?
As I complete my 'replay' of the day ... my eyes decide to broaden their horizon ... no longer satisfied to look at the rocks at my feet or the odd caterpillar who is crawling along in the same direction.
Suddenly my eyes want to ingest the surroundings ... not for the first time today but with an unknown intention ... at least unknown to me at the time I decided to look around. Much like someone was asking me to look up and look around.
At this particular point in the trail there is a wide open expanse of lovely green ... fields ... trees ... rolling hills ... large valley. Almost immediately my mind says ... wow! ... Look at that! The earth along with the sun, the rain and the efforts of man have nurtured and sustained mankind in ever-growing numbers for more than 2,000 years.
Apparently the Romans were here ... not a trivial thought!
Rather spontaneously my mind poses the question ... how much longer will this continue given the fact that mankind has polluted the air in accelerating ways for the past century ... poured chemicals on the earth ... some poisonous. The rain is now called acid rain ... what impact does air pollution have on the quality of the suns' rays? ... Hmmm
Not a pleasant outlook. I walk on thinking to myself that I should write these reflections before I forget them ... I'm tired anyway ... might as well take a break. I watch for an inviting spot to stop. Seems my interest in writing is discouraged by the notion that I have nothing to sit on.
While leaning on my back pack has so often served as a resting place ... I only resort to this at moments of brutal fatigue. What a lazy bum eh!
I continue walking ... a small village comes into view ... I think to myself ... oh good! I'll have a coffee and write my thoughts. A few meters ahead my eyes spot a stone bench on the side of the trail ... man made ... a kind of 'vista' lookout.
Oh! Oh! ... guess I have to stop now ... so much for the coffee break.
I decide to stop and write these words while they are fresh in my mind. Knowing my mind ... it will drift off somewhere else before I get to the village! This is really different ... not only am I writing ... I am stopping along the trail to write certain thoughts while they are fresh ... hot off the press so to speak! ... Hmmm
'Vauban' ... Château country ... reminds me of the children’s' nursery rhyme ... “I’m the king of the castle and you're the dirty rascal"
Fiefdoms! The lifetime labor of so many people required to support the owners' of the Château! Back than only the people who had to clean the 'fruit bowls' (potty) got to go into the Château. Those who performed the menial servile tasks considered beyond the dignity of the rich.
What has changed?
Today fewer people clean latrines yet most of us still do tasks beyond the dignity of the rich. For example ... ladder climbing in the work place. While on the lower rungs it is OK but as we climb the ladder the tasks at the lower level fall into the category of 'fruit bowl cleaning' ... Why?
There is more of us than them ... why in our so called free society do we still accept such injustice ... Why? ... Why?
Perhaps because ... like children in a candy store ... we are allowed to enter the store and take what we want ... or at least endeavor with a reasonable likelihood of success to get our hands in the candy jar of our choice. In this way we are deceived ... trapped into conforming to an insidious form of slavery ... bondage!
Today for 5 euros anyone can go inside the Château!
More about what has changed. Mankind is so rational ... living on the top of the hill provides security and asset management. One can see the enemy coming and one can watch one's assets ... land ... crops etc ... no need for video surveillance!
Enter the village ... there is a flea market on the street ... people buying memories of yesterday ... trinkets are more important than family stories?
Sugar cube for the horses ... I am too stingy to give a horse one of my pieces of fruit. I am carrying an apple and 2 pears. I had two opportunities ... the horse was right beside the road ... I thought about it ... decided against it ... how selfish eh!
At the coffee shop I realized I could have given the horse a sugar cube. I have 3-4 in my bag ... 1/2 package. Saw a horse not long ago ... offered a sugar cube ... he or she refused ... perhaps because he was 200-300 meters away with several fences to jump in between. How generous eh! Maybe I will have another opportunity down the road.
Surprised ... very surprised at my appetite for writing today. I’m sitting at another bench along the side of the trail ... around 5:00PM. The sun is shining ... birds are singing ... breeze blowing. Checked the bench for living creatures before sitting down ... see I am wide awake still!
Fatigue setting in though. For more than 10 years I wander all over the place ... my mind as active as it is today ... a curse? ... Maybe not! In any event today is the first day I have the inspiration to write some of my thoughts almost immediately after they come into my conscious mind.
As St Augustine might say ... it is like my mind wants its' thoughts transported to the tongue of my pen immediately ... no wash cycle ... no rinse cycle or spin cycle first and later write the 'clean' thoughts that remain.
Of course, these last few words are my own ... St Augustine would not have had the knowledge of modern day 'wash cycle'! And than again ... I am usually a plagiarist ... is this the correct term for one which writes as though it is his/her own but is really copying the thoughts and sentences of someone else.
Very rarely in my life have I had anything 'original' to say or at least anything I considered 'original' and worthwhile to say.
Perhaps St Augustine is powering my pen ... who knows eh! I do know this feeling is a most unusual experience for me. Some of what follows will appear in 'print' in different areas of the 'webpage' ... see my thoughts are not linear or congruous. I should note that I saw a statue of St Augustine May 24th in Corbigny ... the first time I had ever seen a full statue of St Augustine in my entire life ... hmmm
Seems the time has come for me to have the courage to write and to share some of my experiences and reflections. Seems that more than 10 years of 'gestation' is enough ... oops! A long gestation would suggest what is about to be put on paper and other communication media such as the internet will be worth reading ... not so! ... You the reader be the judge.
I am reminded today ... a few kilometers back ... of something Kempis wrote in "Imitation of Christ". I have to paraphrase because I am too lazy to look it up ... more about my 'lazy' nature later ... or perhaps now!
I am lazy or at least I have many of the attributes the word 'lazy' is intended to convey. I am a member of the male gender ... what more can I say! I am not being fair to all those energetic and ambitious members of the male gender.
About 600 hundred years ago Thomas Kempis ... See I couldn't remember his first name a few words ago ... perhaps that is why I digressed. Paraphrasing now ... "pay no head or attention to the writer, consider only what is written and judge for yourself if there is 'truth' in what is written"
He went on to describe how most people judge what is written by who wrote it. If the author is well known and respected by a gazillion people ... most will read the 'writings' and ingest willingly what is written.
What happens in the stomach of the reader post ingestion? ... Who knows eh!
Although it seems to me that many people testify that their lives have often been influenced by something they have read. As I write this ... it sounds logical.
The most powerful doorway to our 'psyche' and all this word 'psyche' implies are our eyes. So how else could our 'psyche' be fed than by what we see? ... A dominant factor being ... what we read!
I digress again ... so stop reading!
I have no credentials for writing ... neither academic ... by birth ... or by life's experiences. None at least that survives the 'screening' or 'testing' of main stream society. So all that I can hope for is that some people will read what I write despite my short comings and judge it as Thomas Kempis suggests.
Many people have asked me during the past 10 years or so ... What are you searching for? ... Maybe not ... my memory is not always so good. Maybe some of this stuff I am about to write about has gone through one or two 'wash cycles' ... I will try again.
During the past 10 years or so many people have made the statements ,,, "Bruce you are searching for something" or "Bruce ... I hope you find what you are looking for"
Of course, I always denied the allegations ... suppose I have never been ready to admit it.
Somehow today is different ... yes! ... Yes! I am searching! I’m searching for the "Holy Grail" or the "Rosetta Stone". Not some wooden cup or any other manmade trinket hidden away in some dark mysterious cavern.
I am searching for what the expressions "Holy Grail" and "Rosetta Stone" symbolize.
Who are we? ... Mankind
Why are we here? ... Earth
Where are we going? ... Cosmos
But I am lazy as I mentioned before. I have no energy to plough through volumes of books that represent 1,000's of man years of effort.
Seems I am arrogant too eh! Perhaps this is a good place to write about another thought that passed between my ears a few kilometers back.
I am human ... in every way! This is not to suggest I am good or bad ... I am simply human, subject to all the vagaries(not sure what this word means ... but it’s written now) of being human. My rather large stom-ach is one of the many witnesses to this statement.
I will not, in my writing, attempt to mask my humanity with any pretence of devoutness or holiness. Equally important I will not attempt to mask my personal degree of devoutness or holiness with a pretence of being agnostic ... I am not!
I will try very hard to honour both 'sides' of me ... to do otherwise would be an injustice to myself as well as the reader.
Back to the notion that I am lazy ... I was just told by my inner voice that I am not necessarily lazy but I always look for the 'short cut'. I don't have much patience ... much staying power. I become bored easily ... whether I am reading ... building a baby's crib … I built all of Kevin's baby furniture… or working.
Yes ... this is more truly my nature ... by the word 'nature' I mean it is my mom and dad's fault. It’s not something I learned ... my dad is exactly the opposite ... a tower of strength ... a tower of strength, staying power and patience.
I am who I am ... so in my 'search' ... see the word 'search' is wrong. The word implies intentioned effort ... organization ... persistence ... focus ... direction etc. None of these fine adjectives apply to me or what I have done for the past 10 years +.
As a matter of fact if I could think of the antonyms to these words I would find the more correct words to describe myself. But since these words ... the antonyms ... would not be too flattering ... I will skip over this step.
See ... short cut and arrogance! ... Wow ... such honesty! ... I’m impressed!
So if it is not 'searching' than what is it? Here is what just floated into my mind ... unedited.
I am a 'sponge' or at least my mind operates like a 'sponge'. Two inferences come to mind. I think the word sponge is used to describe someone who tends to live off of another’s' efforts ... the slang synonym is the word 'bum' ... one who takes but does not give.
Seems to fit ... to a degree ... perhaps to a larger degree than what I am willing to admit. Those readers who know me may be smiling right about now.
The second inference is the sponge you find in a kitchen. It is used to soak up stuff ... water ... spills ... dirt etc. Seems the molecular struc-ture of a sponge allows 'foreign' stuff to mix with itself. The sponge is charitable ... doesn't differentiate between what is good ... e.g. clean water ... and what is less good ... e.g. dirty water.
My mind is like that. I suppose to a degree all of our minds are like that ... seems logical. How could we learn to speak our native language if not ... our mind 'soaks up' the countless repetition of sounds and gestures that make up our native language ... and in due course ... commands our vocal chords to repeat them? Seems this is no different than a parrot ... and how we marvel when we hear a parrot vocalize the words ... "Polly wants a cracker"
Must be a big sponge between my ears ... seems my 'search' may not be a 'search' at all. I have simply opened all the doors and windows to the 'sponge' between my ears ... rather than follow anyone else's recipe for filling the sponge.
I have elected to take the view ... whatever comes my way ... OK ... if I have to work for it ... not interested.
A spiritual or religious way of saying the same thing … my preference by the way … is "follow the Virgin Mary" or "let the Virgin Mary guide you"
Why do we say 'Holy' in front of the word 'Spirit' ... as an adjective? I think I read somewhere in ancient Judaism or Hebrew or Aramaic … or something ... the root of the word 'holy' is the notion 'good'.
This is no small point ... let's get on with the journey ... put down the pen and pick up the back pack.
May 23, 2004
Woke up around 7:30 AM ... gone out looking for a coffee ... none! Went up the hill to the church to see what time mass would be ... thought there might be a mass at 8:00AM.
Had difficulty making it up the hill ... huffing and puffing near the top ... and this is without my back pack! Thought to myself ... how I will walk today carrying my back pack ... my first day of walking.
I have the guide now ... don't pay much attention to it. Andre mentions the first stage is 36 kilometers ... I think to myself ... no way! Andre also mentions that there is a place to stay about half way. I am more encouraged now ... I should be able to handle 17 kilometers or so. I end up walking 40 kilometers this day ... no idea how!
I was ready to stop around the 26 kilometers mark. There was a place to stay ... 25 euros including supper and breakfast. Decided not to stay ... Stingy? ... Driven? … or both.
As I head out on the final 10 kilometers I found myself saying to myself ... "steely determination" ... the repetition of these words seemed to energize me. I was now walking more strongly than any time all day. This was a false sense of energy ... the 'steely determina-tion' wore off and serious fatigue took its place.
My feet are sore ... my back is sore ... seems my 'diaper rash' is grow-ing like a weed.
As the sun continues to set further in the west ... anxiety sets in. What if I do not arrive before dark! I won't be able to see the little yellow arrows that indicate which way to go ... Oh! Oh! I could get seriously lost.
I keep an eye on the roadside ... looking out for a suitable place to sleep (e.g. farmers' field) I ask in a couple of villages ... Haut y Bas. A man was walking in the same direction as me. He catches up to me and we start to chat. We go around the corner and down a small hill. I ask him if the houses at the bottom of the hill are part of the same village ... he replies Haut y Bas.
I couldn't help myself ... I ask with a tone of sarcasm ... any difference between the people who live at the bottom of the hill and the people who live on the top of the hill? He seems to detect my sarcasm and effectively says ..."aye .... A bit"
The people who live on top of the hill are from old families ... like John used to say about Guelph ... "which side of the tracks do you live on?"
Dusk has set in and the trail is taking me into a wooded area ... Yikes! I make it to town ... the lights of the town could be seen from 1 or 2 kilometers out. What a treat to see the lights.
I find my way to the church by following the instructions in the guide. I expect to find the refuge somewhere around the church ... nope! What now?
The town is sleeping ... no one on the streets ... a few cars pass by ... ah ha! One car stops and a man gets out ... I think to dump his garbage in a bin. I ask him for help ... he reads the notes in my guide ... more attentively than I had. He notices an address ... 11 Presbytere Street.
I am recharged now ... start looking for this Presbytere Street. A few minutes later ... bingo! Now I am excited ... all I have to do is find the building with the number 11. I do and there are lights on in the build-ing. I am encouraged ... the gate is open ... I walk up to the front door.
I look in the window (door window) and I see a man at the desk. What a relief! I knock on the door ... I knock on the door again.
I figure the man must be on the telephone. I walk out into the front yard so I can peer in through the window and confirm my speculation ... nope! He is just sitting there watching television.
Whether because I’m courageous or desperate? Don’t know which ... I go up to the window and knock on the window ... he hears the knock ... turns around and gives me a look of 'alarm'. Not much of the look ... "welcome ... how are you" on his face.
I go back to the front door figuring he will follow me ... he looks through the window ... moves the curtain aside ... looks again ... turns the outside light on ... looks again ... he seems puzzled ... finally he opens the door and says "bonjour" or "bonsoir" ... I don't remember.
At this point I am sure he will recognize my status as a pilgrim of the Chemin St Jacques ... after all ... this is the refuge for the pilgrims ... or so I thought! ... Nope!
He quickly clarified this point ... "this is not a refuge ... and by the way ... there is a door bell at the gate". His kind way of chastising me for banging on the window ... I am grateful for his gentle response ... some might have punched me in the face!
He attempted ... several times ... to explain how to get to the refuge. He is quite capable of reading body language as well ... he obviously understood the “I have no idea what you are talking about" look on my face. Out of frustration or out of above average charity ... he offered to give me a ride to the refuge.
I declined his most generous offer and motioned that I would find my way. When I turned to leave he said he would call the nuns to let them know I was on my way. I asked him if he thought it was too late to disturb the nuns ... he replied ... "Non ...non ... it's not too late"
I asked him for the time ... 10:30 PM ... yikes! ... I had no idea it was so late! Feeling a bit 'sheepish' about disturbing a nun at this time I set out. I wandered around for another 20 minutes or so in the direction from his instructions ... even thought I had found the place ... a very large complex which I learned later was not the refuge but a seniors convalescent home.
After resigning to the fact that I would not find the refuge and taking comfort from the knowledge that the sun would be back up again in about seven hours ... I prepared myself mentally for sleeping outside. I figured I would go sleep by the church ... by now I am completely disoriented and I can't figure out which direction the church is...
I walk around the corner and I spot a person just about to renter this building. I quickly think to myself ... if only I could get his or her attention ... I may have another shot at finding the refuge ... the pros-pects of sleeping outside on the cement are not very appealing ... plus it’s chilly ... no it’s cold!
About 5 or 6 footsteps later I wave my walking stick in the air ... thinking it would be rude to yell out something at this hour. Somehow the individual who turned out to be a lady ... a very kind lady ... caught the movement of my walking stick in the air and understood the message this action was intended to convey.
We met at the gate ... the parking lot gate ... this lady recognized me as a 'pilgrim' right away ... and she was so kind ... even in the dark she understood the look on my face accentuated by my tone of voice . Turns out she had heard the bell ... several minutes earlier I had pushed the bell at this parking lot.
I remembered ... the instant I had pushed the bell ... I wished I hadn't. I was convinced since the whole area of the building was in darkness ... there was no way anyone would hear the bell.
This lady literally took me by the hand ... she walked me around the corner ... made sure my feet were on the sidewalk and with explicit instructions ... "do not leave the sidewalk”. She repeated this simple instruction several times ... guess she also knows I don't listen so well!
I hear well ... but I have never listened very well ... selective hearing eh!
She also explained how the road would wind to the left and the build-ing I was looking for was less than 2 minutes away ... that's what the last Good Samaritan had said!
After thanking this patient and kind lady ... once again I headed out in search of the refuge ... even more conscious now of how late it is and what an imposition my appearance at the door of the refuge may present.
I find the building ... not the front door ... the proper entrance to the refuge! I find the back door ... the 'no entry door' ... figures eh!
I see someone in the inside doorway ... I am encouraged and a bit timid at the same time ... a man opens the door. We recognize each other right away ... he is the gentleman from the office "Friends of Santiago" in Vezelay. He introduces me to the nun who is chatting with him.
He assures me that there is a bed for me ... the last one of four beds. Turns out 3 pilgrims arrived ahead of me ... whew!
Yogurt ... jam and bread ... to bed ... no shower ... too noisy! Can't sleep ... feet ache ... shoulders ache ... one of the girls is snoring ... eventually I get to sleep. Awake again before dawn ... eventually get up and take a shower.
Breakfast at the refuge ... coffee, croissant, bread and jam ... 5 star services! Stop at the church on the way out ... statue of St Augustine and St Therese. The bible on the altar was open at page 910-911 ... Ecclesiastics verse 31-32.
So tired ... can hardly walk ... chat with the cows. Fellow pilgrim (Martial) and I plan to stop at St Revelerin. We know there are only 2 beds ... we don't expect any competition ... wrong!
Stop at 12:45 Grupy ... a rose on beer glass ... store closed at 1:00 PM ... just made it ... bought small package of cheese. I chat with Martial. No water for the rest of the walk ... about 7 kilometers. This small package of cheese would turn out to be all I had to eat for the rest of today ... and the small piece I gave to Martial would turn out to be all he had to eat until almost noon the next day.
Lots of doubt about the merit of writing while walking.
Visit the church ... statue of St Therese ... too tired to even think!!
I arrive first ... find the place ... the door is open ... I am feeling so relieved. Scan the parking lot ... a gentleman is looking at me. I stand still ... he approaches me ... "you just telephoned?" he asks ... no ... someone had just called and reserved the 2 beds.
Yikes! ... no way I can walk any further ... I ask for permission to sleep on the floor. No stores open in this village ... it has a restaurant grocery store etc ... all closed on Mondays ... reminds me of Levack.
I sleep ... try to sleep ... on the grass ... debating whether I should offer to share my package of soup (bought in St Pere on Saturday ... thank goodness!) Some cheese left ... bought a few hours ago ... and a pear. I decided I should share ... the charitable thing to do and all. I go in to cook my soup ... the 2 pilgrims are sitting at the table eating ... a veritable feast! Wine ... bread.
Learned that Martial had arrived but decided not to stay ... he kept walking.
The one (Spanish born) offers me a piece of churro ... ugly looking Spanish version of kabosa. The Spanish pilgrim has a 2 wheeled contraption ... a large 2 wheeled contraption which he pushes along in front of him. He keeps his back pack and other supplies in this particular 2 wheeled 'mule'. Turns out he has lots of supplies ... what a relief!
Now I can keep my piece of cheese and bowl of soup all to myself! How selfish eh!
Soup tastes so good! ... I sleep on the floor ... don't sleep well ... some snoring from my neighbors. I stole some of the neighbor's tea in the morning (thought the tea belonged to the refuge and was gratis) ... used my sugar cubes ... hit the road!
May 25, 2004
Leaving the refuge where I slept on the floor. Decide not to wait around until the local restaurant opens ... a huge departure from my previous walks. I very rarely, if ever, hit the road without a morning coffee and a couple of cigarettes.
I was encouraged by the words in my guide ... coffee/sandwiches at the 5 kilometers mark.
Walked past a few houses and noticed a man in the window of his home ... not sure what he was doing but his body was half way out of the window. Great opportunity I thought to myself ... I could now get directions to the coffee 'well'.
I posed the question ... ever so gently ... the response came equally gently and friendly ... "nothing here ... nothing until … ‘My heart stopped beating for a moment! ... This cannot be ... my guide book says there is a coffee/sandwich bar here ... therefore there must be!
I thank him and walk on ... thinking maybe he is new to the village and doesn't know the place ... there are at least 20 or so homes in this village. Not willing to accept no for an answer and certainly not prepared to walk 17 kilometers for my morning coffee ... I pose the same question to the next person I see ... a gentleman putting some-thing into the trunk of his car.
Same answer! ... Yikes! This gentleman was kind enough to offer me some water ... I didn't have the nerve to say I would like some very hot water with some coffee milk and sugar in it!
Resigned myself to my new reality and walked on. I am in surprisingly good shape today ... my feet are sore but not bad. I have enough energy to walk. I think about stopping for a rest from time to time ... don't ... walk non-stop to t village ... 17 kilometers ... difficult for me to believe.
I arrive, anxious and excited about getting something to eat and to drink ... not fanatic about a coffee any longer. The local café is on the main road ... Martial has arrived just ahead of me. We sit together and have a coffee and a chocolate croissant. Oh ... the small pleasures of a pilgrim.
At this point I am still feeling quite energetic ... I plan to walk further. Martial talks about finding a place to stay ... we work together on this project ... a phone call (Martial carries a cell phone) ... a walk about ... look for the local priest.
No doors 'open' ... by now I am tired. I explain to Martial that I am not prepared to spend more than 10 euros for a bed. Martial invites me to go for lunch ... I decline ... thinking lunch would be much too extravagant. I camp out on the sidewalk across the street from the church ... take out my 'bed roll' and make myself comfortable.
I would stay here almost 2 hours ... never really got to sleep. A gentleman on a bicycle approached me ... turns out he is the local shoe-maker ... asks me if I want some water. I explain that I am looking for a bed ... he suggests trying the mayor or the priest (by telephone)
The priest is only in the office until noon today. I thank him ... he comes back about 30 minutes later ... seems genuinely concerned about my situation. Martial has returned about the same time and assures my friend the shoemaker that all has been arranged.
Martial had successfully negotiated a bed for me for 10 euros at a local 'bed and breakfast' type home plus 1.5 euros for breakfast (coffee and biscuits) Fatigue has set in and I am quite content to have this nights lodging settled.
This place is quite nice ... may have been a hotel a century or so ago ... has an inner court yard area ... a few trees and shrubs ... no flowers ... secured by a large gate on the street entrance which is locked at 6:00PM and a locked door to the area of the rooms.
The room is spacious ... a double bed. Martial explains that his deal was that he would take another room with a single bed if no one else shows up before 6:00 PM. If someone comes along ... the owner will provide a cot and we ill share one room.
I change into my shorts and T shirt with the intention of going to the grocery store to buy some food. The experience of yesterday ... with nothing to eat! ... is still 'top of mind'. Not a pleasant feeling to be hungry and discover there are either no stores or only stores that are closed.
Too tired! ... Change my mind ... lay down. Only one key ... I agree to stay locked in the house until Martial returns. Fall in and out of consciousness. Martial returns around 6:30 PM. I go to the store ... buy some stuff (sardines, cucumber and a tomato) ... go home ... eat ... write.
Today I read ecclesiastics ... need to write about my thoughts ... Cherokee Nation ... I will return ... the song ... "Turn ... turn ... turn"
Nevers is 32 kilometers away ... hope to arrive tomorrow.
Meditations energized by thoughts ... Socrates ... 'feels' good!
More 'connecting dots' ... Uncle Bruce ... why did he join the army? ... friends ... dad ... "the greatest gift one can give is to lay down your life for a friend" ... this is what Uncle Bruce did ... and Uncle Charley.
In news recently Paul Martin's verbal slip ... mentioned Norway instead of Normandy?
St Reverin ... beheaded ... Greece cradle of modern western society ... democracy ... religion too? Socrates ... hemlock poison ... was teaching young people only one divinity ... foreshadows Christ?
Value and importance of notion of 'name' ... Jesus gives us no 'name' ... only Father
Group of cows with their 'bums' to me ... walk away from me as I approach
May 26, 2004
Walk from Corbigny to Nevers.
Breakfast was at the same place we slept ... wasn't hungry ... had a coffee ... made a jam sandwich for the road. Asked the other pilgrims what kind of jam was in the jar ... it seemed homemade.
Martial replied ..."prune jam" ... my gut reaction was ... YUK! On quick reflection I changed my mind ... remembering my diet has not had a lot of fibre in the past 10 days ... better I eat the prunes.
Martial and I leave together ... we soon separate ... I suggest to Martial that we have our own 'rhythm' and it is best if we respect it. I shared with Martial that mine is 'slow' or 'stop'! Martial seemed to be laboring to go as 'slow' as me.
The first 10 kilometers or so were easy ... seems my body was feeding on the energy produced by my 'fanaticizing' ... intriguing eh! How fanaticizing seems to produce adrenalin and energy ... and some say we need proteins! Ha!
The 'feeding frenzy' wore off and I found myself deadly sober! i.e. weak ... tired ... and sore all over. While contemplating my condition it occurred to me this must be how people on drugs feel ... coming down off a high ... or ... after a good drunk!
My 'high' wasn't that good! Maybe I should try the drugs or the alcohol! Don't understand it but since I tried that route about 8 years ago, connecting dots again ... my trip to Montreal to visit my brother and become a 'pot head', I have had no interest. On rare occasions I have had a second beer, most of the time I have one beer ... just for a change … to wash down the cigarettes.
The next 10 kilometers seemed much more difficult even though I took a break to eat my jam sandwich. The final 12 kilometers or so were brutal! I had a coffee which helped a bit but seemed to wear off quickly ... much more quickly than the Spanish coffee.
Martial played a key role again today. Our paths crossed at about kilometers 20 ... he was about to make preparations for the night's lodging. He asked me if I would like him to make enquiries on my behalf ... I quickly accepted his offer.
Martial has been so kind and accommodating. I ask myself ... what would have happened if Martial had not helped me find accommodation ... don't know ... I've always managed somehow ... yet here he is doing so much to help me.
Martial calls the Carmelite monastery ... no vacancy ... Visitation second ... success ... he has made arrangements for the two of us. With that settled we walked on together the rest of the way.
Arrived later than expected ... around 8:00PM ... the sisters were very accommodating ... gave us something to eat ... we had individual rooms ... a very nice place to stay. I asked if I could stay another night and the sister superior nodded and replied "sure".
I should mention that in my mind I figured our stay here was gratuitous ... after all we are pilgrims and this is a monastery. Once again I learned the hard way ... assume nothing! I should have asked for the cost ... in the end it was still a very reasonable price for very comfort-able accommodation.
May 27, 2004 Day of rest in Nevers
Woke up early enough ... breakfast ... coffee and cigarette ... and off to Nevers. The monastery is 2-3 kilometers from the centre of the city. I explained to Martial that I had 2 priorities ... visit the convent where St Bernadette rests and check my email. I was thinking of emailing some of my 'scribbling' to Ron to post on the web page.
Feeble attempts to find the post office which has internet access ... wound up at the convent.
The visit is a moving and quite emotional experience for me. Connect-ing dots again ... accidentally ... to the extent that anything is accidental ... found myself here almost 9 years ago ... and the past 9 years have passed so quickly and have been so full of mystery.
Got separated from Martial ... looked for him before leaving the city ... felt a bit sheepish that he has been so kind and he may think I have abandoned him.
Stop for coffee and a cigarette ... when about to leave ... looking out the window of the bar ... I notice Martial walking by outside. I bang on the window to get his attention. We chat outside for a few minutes and split up again. I start to walk away and after crossing the street I realize I don't have my small back pack ... Oh! Oh! ... my passport ... wallet ... gone again! ... Oh no!
The gentleman from Ireland at the airport experience flashes back into my mind ... I panic a bit ... not much. End up finding it still hanging on the chair in the restaurant (connecting dots again ... what a contrast from the time I left my stuff in a locked vehicle on the edge of a well travelled road in southern France (Circa 200). When I returned to the vehicle a short time later ... the window was smashed ... my passport ... my wallet ... some of my clothes all gone! Fortunately for me I wasn't travelling alone at the time.
Found the post office ... used the internet for a few minutes ... very expensive ... 8 euros per hour. Later found a cyber café with internet access ... with a name like cyber café I expected several computers to be available ... nope! ... only one at the back of the bar ... used it for about 3 hours ... hard work ... stiff neck ... still undecided whether this approach to writing is OK
Oratory at convent dedicated to St Joseph ... favourite place of prayer for St Bernadette. Remember visit to Montreal and St Joseph's oratory there shortly after return from Europe ... first visit to Nevers and this convent. St Joseph's oratory in Montreal is where I had the first experience ... close my eyes and unable to open them ... conscious of what is going on around me but my eyes seem to be fixed 'shut' ... has happened regularly since that visit ... still don't understand what is going on ... an unusual 'feeling' ... 'sensation' in the area just above my eyes ... the centre of my lower forehead. Have learned since that this is the approximate location of the 'third eye' in Chakra
Connecting dots ... street leading to cyber café is named St Martin Street ... every time I see the name 'Martin' I am reminded of the words "That Martin Girl" ... an expression used to describe St Therese of the Child Jesus in the first pamphlet I read about her. I remembered that we were looking for St Therese in Nevers 9 years ago when we unintentionally discovered that St Bernadette was interred here. Hmmm
Passed San Sebastian Plaza on the way to the cyber café ... my trip to England that ended up as a trip to San Sebastian Spain (walking stick story)
I had a very emotionally charged day ... all good ... some tears ... good tears. I remembered how I carried a handful of tomograms with me from Medugorje ... eventually left them here in Nevers ... many were cracked open and 'bleeding' ... remembered thinking to myself at the time ... "these 'bleeding' palmegrams symbolize the members of my family ... all wounded souls ... and I am leaving them here in your hands St Bernadette"
Tonight I had a difficult but short period. After learning I would be expected to pay for my stay here I plunged into this abyss of doubt ... uncertainty ... wanting to quit ... go home.
Why? ... Don’t know. ... No rational reason.
Went out for a smoke ... sobered up and realized thinking I would not have to pay was silly and ungracious. Why should anyone else pay for me to walk the Camino? Now on my way to bed ... hope I can sleep!
May 28, 2004 Leaving Nevers
Slept well ... up around 7:00AM ... coffee and cigarettes ... writing in the morning before I leave ... another first.
"State of being" seems still under attack ... anxiety ... worry ... why?
Not rational ... seems money or financial security is the issue ... not near as bad as last night. I am strong enough to put this issue in 'front of my face' and have a good look at it. No reason to fret. I have a return airfare ... I have some money still in the bank and I have some room on my credit card ... so why the anxiety?
I have no compunction to complete the Camino ... when it is time to stop ... voluntarily or otherwise (being broke) ... I simply return to Guelph.
Seems to me I was brought to this 'state' this morning ... the seeds were planted during the past couple of days ... and they took root quickly and grew like weeds!
Allowing Martial to help me ... usually I am so self reliant ... somehow I have simply gone along with the flow. Martial made the arrange-ments for lodging for the past 3 nights ... had I made my own ar-rangements ... perhaps I would have done the usual cost benefit analysis and accepted the results/consequences before making the decision.
In these circumstances I learn the results/consequences(financial) after the fact. I have tried very hard for almost 10 years now to not allow myself to be concerned ... at least not overly concerned with financial matters ... attempting to hang on to the attitude ... no money ... so what!
So where did my little soldiers go in the past 15 hours? Did they fall asleep ... were they duped in the past few days into allowing the 'enemy' so to speak into my psyche?
Occurred to me this morning that the feelings I am experiencing this morning and last night are prevalent in mainstream society today. Despite a fairly affluent lifestyle ... seems to me many of us are living beyond our financial means ... much of this style of living being on borrowed money ... mortgages ... bank loans ... credit cards etc Voila! ... Stress and anxiety come along.
So I was taken to this 'state of anxiety' to be reminded how so many people feel? ... Who knows eh?
My recovery was rather quick ... the amount and considerations at stake were minimal. Reminds me just how difficult the 'escape' is for most people. In today’s' society our self respect ... our dignity ... is measured by the place we live in e.g. house vs. apartment ... large house vs. small house ... the car ... the job etc.
How difficult it must be to expend so much energy and time reaching this 'dignified' state and afterwards spending so much time energy and 'prescription drugs' to try and hang on ... "life is useless ... it is like chasing the wind"
Try to walk this off now.
Back again ... it's been about 1/2 hour ... still writing ... haven't left yet ... made the mistake of having another coffee and cigarette.
My mind went soaring again ... higher than 30,000 feet.
It just occurred to me that my thoughts and experiences of the last 24 hours ... the variation in my 'state of being' may have some hidden and mysterious insight.
The flip side of my sheep philosophy ... my article on Philosophical Fodder ... most people when they read my article get a chuckle at first. The nose in the butt of the sheep in front of them... and shortly after-wards they are repulsed by the image ...e.g. “I am not a sheep” ... I am not a dumb animal with poor eyesight ... incapable of taking care of myself.
I am a person ... I am in control of my life ... I make my own decisions ... do we?
We are social beings ... our most innate need is to belong ... to be accepted ... to feel OK about ourselves.
Seems to me most forms of what is known as depression occur when we do not have these feelings of belonging ... being accepted by others ... being OK.
Belonging in today’s society requires a good job ... a new car ... nice furniture ... big house etc.
What is the difference between killing ourselves to acquire these trinkets in order to satisfy our perceived belonging needs and the sheep keeping his nose in the butt of the sheep in front of him?
Why is the image of the sheep so repulsive? ... And rules of society so acceptable? "Woe to you, torrent of human custom! Who can stand against you?" St Augustine
For example, how many lives were destroyed ... literally and or psychologically during the great depression of the 1930's? Destroyed because people's dignity ... self respect ... stature was involuntarily taken away ... why is this so? Not a trivial question?
Now I am off walking ... see where the musings of my demented mind will take me today!
Back again! ... Walked for 4-5 hours ... covered about 16 kilometers. My morning reflections have had the opportunity to get through one or two 'wash cycles' and here is what 'came out of the wash'!
Seems today is a day for meditation/contemplation ... no distractions ... Martial was still at the monastery when I left ... no sign of him yet ... no place to stop for a coffee until now ... just a long walk in solitude ... me and my wayward thoughts ... to the extent that thoughts can belong to anyone ... seems to me thoughts come and go as they please ... matter of fact ... often enough ... I wish some thoughts that come along wouldn't hang around so long!!
Back to the flipside of my sheep philosophy ... the notion of free will ... of freedom to choose ... of being in control of our destiny. Let's consider an example.
Not that this example is particularly good or particularly applicable ... simply a reference point. Many adults say they work hard to provide the means for their children to have a good education ... why?
Let's first look at this situation from the perspective of the parents. I have no idea why ... each individual parent has individual and unique considerations ... yet here are my thoughts today.
Should their children get a good education there is less likelihood these same children will come back home to live as adults! They will have a stronger likelihood of being able to support themselves through adult life and maybe even help out a bit when the parents are old ... although this last thought may be stretching it a bit!
Selfish reasons ... the sense of pride that follows the accomplishments of children e.g. my son just graduated as a doctor or a lawyer or heaven forbid ... an accountant! The rating … our 'score card' as parents is largely dependant on the success/failure of our children, according to society's 'yardstick'. Therefore it seems logical that parents would try to 'mould' their children to fit into the expectations of our society ... to become a docile member of the 'flock'.
Another selfish reason ... protect the dignity and stature of the family and the family name e.g. my father was a lawyer ... my grandfather was a lawyer etc
Now from the perspective of the children ... why would the child want to get a good education?
It's as good a reason as any to avoid going to work!
It's a status symbol e.g. I graduated in whatever from wherever and I am alpha sigma phi ... therefore I am not only OK ... I am more OK than most.
It's a ticket to a good job ... not only from the perspective of stature ... also from a monetary point of view. In mainstream society there is a direct correlation between education and annual salary ... more educa-tion usually means more money ... is this just?
Everyone is doing it these days ... why not? While the 'bar' has moved up in recent years this notion seems to have held true for a long time. Many years ago it was basic literacy education ... you were a 'nobody' if you couldn't read or write. Today seems it is a university degree ... tomorrow and to some extent already it’s ..."where did you get your university degree?"
In this simple example who is making the choices? We are 'penned' or 'fenced' in by our society, government, cultural heritage. Perhaps at a micro level we make personal choices. Although I am not sure this is true ... seems to me there is no greater pain than the 'pain of rejection'.
Physical pain is certainly difficult to endure. Today there are so many remedies to alleviate physical pain ... and eventually ... in most cases the physical pain goes away.
Emotional or psychological pain, like the pain of rejection cuts deep into our psyche and almost always never goes away. A growing number of psychologists and therapists support this notion.
So what has all this got to do with the fact that most sheep in the flock, while the flock is on the move, must keep their noses in the butts of the sheep in front of them ... most sheep in the flock have no idea where they are or where they are going ...
Seems to me one can build a strong case for parallels between this image and the evolution of mankind.
Who are we? ... Mankind
Where are we? ... Mankind
Where are we going? ... Mankind
If you can answer these questions, I would like to chat with you!
Reminded of the behaviour of young toddlers ... playing in a sand box. If one of the toddlers cannot have what he/she wants ... often he/she will pick up some sand ... throw it at the others and leave ... go look for another sand box.
Seems to me as adults we do the same thing ... if we find ourselves suddenly 'not in the game' or 'losing the game' ... there is a natural tendency to 'find another sand box or game or flock ... the current failure rate in marriages points to this phenomenon.
Or like me ... keep one foot in the 'game' and one foot on the 'outside' ... being neither fully committed to participating in the 'game' or fully committed to finding my own 'game' or building my own 'game' from scratch.
Writing these words reminds me of conversations I had with Xavier in Nerja Spain a year or so ago. To put this into perspective ... I will share an experience in Spain that placed a different 'spin' on my sheep story ... had an encounter with a 'spin doctor'.
At the time, I was a vagabond ... sleeping on the street and on the beach ... fortunately the motivation to do this only lasted a few days!
I was also working in the kitchen at the Nerja Lodge ... dish washer mostly. Occasionally after work I would go to the bar downstairs for a drink ... this was usually after midnight. I would never engage in any conversation, simply have my drink and leave.
One night I sat on a stool beside a gentleman from Scotland I think ... and somehow found myself engaged in conversation. I shared my sheep philosophy with him ... big surprise here eh!
When my story telling was finished he looked at me and asked ... "Bruce ... have you ever seen a farmer in England pen his sheep?"
I replied ... "no"
He said " There is always one stubborn sheep who will not go into the pen ... the farmer chases him around a while and eventually gets fed up and closes the gate ... leaving the sheep on the outside all alone"
Wow! That’s me ... there is no way I am going back into that pen. Matter of fact, seems that all my life I unconsciously and stubbornly refused to go into the pen.
This seemed to explain a lot about myself ... wow! ... From a complete stranger ... in a foreign country! Wonder how long it would have taken a therapist to get me this far towards understanding myself?
The next day my understanding of myself would get another boost from another almost stranger.
While walking aimlessly around town, I met a lady who I knew enough only to say 'olah' when passing. This particular day it seems I was in the mood for chatting. I shared my new spin on my sheep philosophy ... the 'spin' I received from the Scottish fellow at the bar the night before.
I should note that I had not written my article Philosophical Fodder yet.
She listened attentively and responded in a friendly and gentle tone ... "Bruce ... you are circling the pen" ... the sheep pen that is.
My 'inner self' became so excited for the next few hours ... between the gentleman at the bar and the lady on the street ... I was given an image that seemed to explain the last several years of my life. Seems I had spent enough time in the 'pen' conforming to the 'recipe' for a good life ... doing all that main stream society suggests ... and after 40 years or so what did I have to show for it!.
Yet at the same time, despite this very strong notion that I could not go back into the 'pen' ... I also did not have the courage to simply 'walk' away and 'wander in the desert' so to speak ... thus I would 'walk around the pen' ... and ... 'walk around the pen' ... and 'walk around the pen'!
Every once in a while one of the 'sheep' in the pen would stick their head out between the cedar rails as I was approaching. I would stop and we would chat a while ... this image supported for me all the brief encounters I experienced as I travelled and also during those periods while I stayed in Canada. Once in a while, I would explain to my fellow 'sheep' who had stuck his/her head out between the rails that I must be moving on ... the 'sheep' would walk along the rails ... remain-ing inside the 'pen' ... and me walking along the outside.
This image seemed to explain those encounters where an 'intellectual' convergence seemed to take place between me and the other person ... but the other person was unable or perhaps more accurately stated ... unwilling to leave the 'pen' ... the need to belong is so strong.
When I shared these images with Xavier he quickly put it in perspec-tive for me ... and while his words ... his tone of voice ... and his body language were all very gentle ... the 'truth' that he spoke was not very flattering. He explained that I was willing to participate in and share all the perks and advantages of mainstream society ... e.g. take an airplane to Europe ... use flush toilets etc and at the same time bitch and gripe about the 'recipe' for a good life. This experience was like a cold shower for me ... shocking at first ... yet refreshing after your body clematises to the cold water. I have tried to keep Xavier's wise counsel in mind ever since.
Thus ... one foot in the 'sand box' ... in the 'game' ... and one foot out! Oh! How I hope I will be able to pull the other foot out soon! Maybe I will make enough 'noise' and be 'pushed out' ... ouch!!
Another subject that 'tickled the ears of my mind' ... as St Augustine would say ... while walking ... what a marvel our mind is ... it has wings like an eagle ... taking us up ... way up ... soaring ... way beyond the boundaries of the practical reality of life ... day to day life in particular.
Our mind takes us on a 'fantasy journey' ... even simple day dreams are an instance of this notion. The same mind ... while we are soaring at 30,000 feet ..."flying higher than a kite" ... as the expression goes ... think this expression also applies to the effects of alcohol and certain drugs ... reminds itself ... now here is the mystery ... how can our mind remind itself (Augustine). Nonetheless, while soaring at 30,000 feet ... sober ... our mind reminds itself that it really doesn't have 'wings like an eagle' ... it really shouldn't be 'up here' ... it is dangerous up here ... and than without warning some part of our mind 'wakes up' ... realizes what has happened ... takes control ... and takes us back down ... for a nice soft landing right? ... Nope! ... Splat! ...thump! ... Ouch!!
This hurts ... this notion is also a question of degree. Most adults can relate to themselves being 'snapped' out of a daydream or observing someone else who is being 'snapped' out of their daydream ... usually the individual coming out (coming down in the 'splat' mode) takes a fraction of a second to get his/her bearings ... one can see written all over his/her face ... "Where am I?" ... "Where was I?"
One would think that after going through this experience ... voluntarily ... so many times ... so many times ... one would find a way of staying 'grounded' ... of avoiding the hurtful 'splats'. Seems to me the same result applies for those who fly sober and those who choose alcohol or drugs to get themselves 'high'.
It often happens to me in the mornings ... not every morning but certainly often enough. Somewhere along the way I developed the habit of going to bed early ... around 7:00 PM and after a few consecu-tive nights of this I would wake up early ... 4:00 AM,. Not a conscious intentioned decision ... more a 'self defense' response. This started when I was suffering considerable emotional pain ... sleep seemed to be the only 'peace' I could find. I also learned, after the fact, that the hours from 4:00AM to 7:00AM are the most peaceful hours. Now it seems logical ... most healthy and sane people are sleeping ... the partying crowd has just gone to bed ... most businesses are closed except the 24/7 factories ... less vehicle traffic etc
Perfect for 'soaring' ... being a smoker ... my body insists that I get out of bed and satisfy its' craving for nicotine and caffeine ... seems the absence of nicotine and caffeine don't bother our bodies during our sleep ... but when the 'cock crows' ... that moment when you come into consciousness ... our mind says ... louder and louder ... feed me ... feed me ... I need a nicotine fix now!
So I get up and go out ... for the past few years this routine has become increasingly difficult ... no coffee shop where one can sit and smoke ... so I buy a coffee at Tim Horton drive thru ... go to my favourite parking spot ... often on James street ... hmmm (Santiago is Spanish for St James) and more often than not I 'fly away'. Later in the morning or certainly by mid afternoon I have usually 'crashed'. My morning fantasy brings me down from 30,000 feet like a 'lead balloon’!
Reminds me of Job ... think this is in the story of Job ... he is referring to the Virgin Mary ..."You visit me in the morning and You chastise me in the afternoon ..."
Seems to me Walt Disney was well aware of this phenomenon when he developed the Bugs Bunny and the Coyote cartoons based on this notion. I am the 'Coyote' going through 'splat' after 'splat' ... 'kaboom' after ‘kaboom' and never able to catch the elusive rabbit.
"Life is useless ...it's like chasing the wind"
Yet again, like the 'Coyote' ... I have no intention of giving up!
May 29, 2004
Back again ... about 24 hours later ... in a café in Livery ... 2nd coffee of the morning ... walked about 5 kilometers so far. Reviewing my notes from yesterday ... trying to figure out where my head was when I was writing ... not that it matters ... especially since most of the time ... most of my life ... I never know whether I am 'coming or going'!
The coffee is strong ... real strong ... I usually ask for a large coffee with hot milk. This morning when I was in Saint-Pierre-le-Moutier I ordered my coffee in my usual way ... large coffee with heated milk. Before my coffee arrived ... the lady who was to prepare my coffee referred to it as a 'café crème' ... in response to a query from Martial ... thought to myself ... that must be the correct French terminology for what I try to order as a coffee with heated milk ... her café crème was delicious!
Now for my second coffee this morning ... here at Livry ... I order "large café crème' ... assuming I will receive coffee with heated milk ... nope! My coffee arrives in a cup and a small pitcher of crème arrives alongside. Cream ...Yuk! ... I don't like cream in my coffee ... and it is not even heated ... double Yuk! Oh well! ... I remind myself ... you do not always get what you ask for!
In reviewing my notes noticed I forgot to write about the 'race horse' ... the story of the race horse who had a passion for racing and an even stronger passion for winning, who one day dropped dead just before the finish line. Not sure if this story is factual or another one of those fables with the intention of teaching us something. In any event, seems to me this story is also a 'testimony' to the mystery of our mind or our brain works. The 'will' to race must be created by the mind of the horse ... the 'will' to win must be created by the same mind ... the same mind houses the horse's 'radar system ... that intuitive system that notifies the horse of imminent danger before the danger arrives.
I believe horses are noted for their keen radar ... able to sense danger long before us two legged animals are able to sense the same danger. Perhaps this notion of mine comes from watching too many cowboy movies as a child!
A long and winding road to make this point ... non trivial in my view Why did the race horse's radar ... warning system ... not notify itself that death was inevitable if it did not stop before reaching the finish line?
How is it that one part of the mind seems to work against another part of the mind ... our fingers don't 'fight' wit each other!
The popular Western expression “Thank God it’s Friday” speaks volumes. The restaurant chain T.G.I.F. confirms the cultural significance of the sentiment. This restaurant chain has stores in China … evidence the sentiment is spreading around the world.
This expression points to the phenomenon of the race horse. In our mind we know we are slaves to the system … we don’t want to be … we are relieved when Friday comes along with a temporary escape … but we all go back into the rat race on Monday … Monday morning blues. How is it that our mind which is the central tool ensuring our survival can keep us in this danger. Where is free will … how can we freely will self destruction.
"Life is useless ... it's like chasing the wind!"
There is one more reflection/meditation I had while walking yesterday. This morning it seems this particular meditation/reflection is best shared after describing the events of the past 24 hours.
Martial arrived at the church ... I was sitting ... leaning on my back-pack ... and my backpack was leaning against the wall of the church ... comfortable enough! ... I was writing at the time.
My writing seemed more important to me than conversation with Martial ... although we exchanged a few sentences ... he planned to go and grab a sandwich and I would continue writing.
After my appetite for writing was satisfied I hit the road again. Met Martial at the local restaurant ... we headed out together ... walked together until about 9:00 PM ... a long and hard 15 kilometers. Martial wanted to stop ... I wanted a coffee ... my need for caffeine won the day! Martial followed along ... he seemed anxious about finding lodging for the night ... my mind couldn't get past the caffeine fix!
Somewhere along the way Martial shared one of his morning experiences ... he had purchased a 'chaplet' ... a mini Rosary ... 10 beads and a cross. While looking right at me he stated ... je deteste le chaplet ... assuming 'deteste' has a similar meaning to the word detest in English ... his body language seemed to confirm my assumption. He went on to say how his friends back home would laugh at him. I pulled my Rosary out of my pocket and shared with him that I carry my Rosary with me all the time ... most nights to bed with me ... yet I rarely recite the Rosary. I remember as a child kneeling around my mother's bed with my siblings(probably 5 or 6 of them at the time) praying the Rosary ... more accurately stated ... my mom was praying the Rosary and if I didn't kneel and appear to be participating I would likely have received a 'smack' of sorts.
Parenting was much easier back then ... today the 'smack' would likely be considered child abuse! At the time I have no recollection of having any 'relish' for the Rosary or prayer ...or ... between the age of 10 and 43 I never had anything to do with the Rosary.
Now here is Martial who detests the Rosary buying a miniature Rosary in Nevers ... the place where St Bernadette rests. In the story of St Bernadette, which I read several years ago, one detail I remember is apparently she pulled her Rosary out of her pocket at the beginning of the first apparition of the Blessed Virgin Mary ... seemed important to me at the time ... and obviously is still important to me today. Maybe that is why I keep my Rosary in my pocket ... I want to be prepared when She (Mary) shows up!
Whew! I am writing so much and covered so little ground! Martial and I arrived in Saint-Pierre-le-Moutier ... I bolted for the café bar and my caffeine fix ... Martial elected to attempt to satisfy his anxiety about lodging for the night ... no luck ... seems we were both destined to sleep under the stars ... not really!
Martial had noticed a place on the way into town that seemed to him a good place to sleep ... he has lots of experience sleeping outdoors. We slept ... more accurately stated ... we spent the night lying on the ground underneath some large cedar trees. We couldn't see the sky through the trees. My big concern was mosquitoes!
Seemed to me trying to sleep under large cedar trees in Ontario at this time of year is akin to suicide ... needless anxiety on my part ... no sign of mosquitoes all night. Yet what I hadn't worried about did show up ... it was cold ... quite cold ... strange noises from time to time ... voices where voices should not be ... persistent noise of local traffic. We were only a few meters from a major highway. On a few occasions I awoke to discover some multi legged creature exploring my face! I simply discouraged him/her ... pushed it off my face!! Nonetheless remained in this place until about 8:00 AM
Forgot to mention, somewhere along the way, before heading out on the walk to Saint Pierre I noticed the name Joan of Arc in the guide. The guide has numerous details of churches and other historical attractions along the route. Usually I pay no attention to this part of the guide ... only when I am looking for a caffeine fix!
In any event, there were the words 'Joan of Arc' ... who has crossed my path a few times in the past several years. Seems my 'inner being' was feeling compelled to investigate this 'Joan of Arc Chappell. As it turns out, it is a good thing I do not have a good understanding of French ... if I had I would never have found what I found!
On the way back into town this morning Martial mentions that he knows of an ADP nearby. ADP is an individual family who will accommodate pilgrims ... a meal and a bed for a reasonable cost. He says it is about 6 kilometers away ... why didn't he mention it last night?
Of course, last night I was too kaput to walk another 6 kilometers, although I may have consented to taking a taxi! We go to cross the street and a middle aged couple approaches us ... very friendly looking ... yup! ... Turns out they are the people who accommodate pilgrims ... hmmm ... synchronicity? Their house is on the Camino about 6-7 kilometers further south. I tell myself, I wouldn't have gone there last night anyway because I had this inner nagging to check out the Joan of Arc chapel(church ... or so I thought at the time).
Martial heads for the local church and I head for the Joan of Arc church. About 100 meters down the street is a large statue of Joan of Arc ... sitting on a horse ... flag in one hand ... sword in the other. That look of steely determination and courage on her face ... similar to the statue I saw a few years ago. I read the plaque ... "Joan of Arc ... liberator of Ste Pierre in 1429 ... I got goose bumps ... I had no idea she was involved in liberating this village.
I continued on my way looking for the church ... no church! ... An old age home called "Foyer de Jeanne D'Arc". I am confused now ... not unusual eh! ... I make some inquiries and discover that the guide notes describe a stained glass window in the church ... hmmm! I head for the church ... it's locked ... hmmm ... what's going on here?
I hit the road ... feeling quite OK especially considering I hardly slept all night and yesterday's walk was so difficult. My mind starts to wander back to the Statue of Joan of Arc. I remember saying to Martial yesterday that some say Joan of Arc changed the course of history ... suppose they are speculating ... had England defeated France at the time what may have happened. The time of Joan of Arc was prior to the extensive colonization pursued by several European countries ... England, France, Spain, Portugal, and Holland
A few minutes later my mind went back to 1429 and suddenly brought into conscious thought "1492" ... my mind simply transposed the last two digits. Connecting dots …1492 ... Columbus ... Seville last year ... the first street sign in St Pere this year … St Pere is an abbreviation for St Pierre ... colonization ... Yikes! I better stop now and go walking so I can get 'grounded' again!
Just before I go I should at least introduce the topic I alluded to several words back ... there is one more reflection I had while walking yester-day.
My mind went back to the time I scribbled the note in the coffee shop in Guelph ... under the heading "It's time to fish or cut bait”. I spent some time thinking I really don't know what this expression means or where it comes from. Seems to me it means the same as "shit or get off the pot".
Being a Northern Ontario boy I am more comfortable reflecting on the latter. I will share my reflections next time I feel like writing.
12:20 PM ... I have another 15 kilometers to walk today ... Martial made arrangements for me to sleep at some ADP down the road ... don't understand why! ... Especial ... why just for me ... and not for himself as well?
Back again ... a couple of hours and 5-6 kilometers later. I just walked through La Veurdre ... seems today is another one of those 'involuntary fasting' days. I expected to get something to eat in La Veurdre ... nope! ... All the stores are closed ... local café too!
Maybe now I understand why the very friendly young lady at the café bar in Livry offered me an extra bottle of water. I had asked her to fill mine 50cl ... whatever that means and out of the blue she says ... I have another small bottle ... would you like to take it as well? I was about to say no ... why would I need it? The next village is only about 5 kilometers away and I plan to stop there and get something to eat.
My mind played eenie meeni mynie mow' (how do you spell the words to this expression anyway!) a dozen times in the next 2 seconds and landed on ..."I'll take it" ... don't know why?
Perhaps now I do ... my bottle is almost empty and it could be a ways before I find the next public access to water. Amazing how my needs are known to others before me … this young woman was another angel on my journey.
It’s often the small insignificant events in life that have a deep meaning. The young lady seemed to know I would need more water. Perhaps there is a parallel here with our ancestry. We are undeniably the fruit of our ancestors tempered by the extenuating circumstances of our lifetime. My personality and character is in large part attributable to my parents and grandparents.
I have the benefit of 18 years of life with my parents and they in turn have the about the same with their parents. Direct living influence. St Augustine wrote “Lord, you provided the pricks to move me in the direction you wanted me to go.” He was talking about his poor working conditions in Cartage that prompted him to move to Rome.
The same case can be made for ancestry … something to the effect … “Lord, you provided me with my parents and grandparents etc to move me in the direction you want me to go.”
I'm sitting on a park bench ... in the shade ... a small pond behind me with a bunch of ducks quacking away. In the last hour or so my mind went back to another childhood memory ... summer of 1958 ... wow I even remember the year. My parents had gone to the Calgary stampede ... I was left with my grandmother (my dad's mom). Can't remember if I was left there alone or with one of my siblings (had 5 0r 6 at the time ... probably alone being the trouble maker that I likely was at the time).
Anyhow, this memory involves me being on my knees again ... in the corner of my grandmother's kitchen ... and no I wasn't praying on this occasion either!. Can't remember what I did ... must have been pretty bad though! See ... I haven't always been a little angel ... could make a strong case for having always been a bit naughty though!
As you know my mom is Catholic ... French Canadian Catholic. I sup-pose her ten children and her passion for the Rosary give it away! I learned a couple of years ago that my grandma on my dad's side was Methodist (I think) ... found out her dad's name (my great grandfather) was Adam (as in Adam and Eve) and his middle name was Elijah as in the prophet Elijah. Reminds me of my visit to Al Muhakra ... the hill in Israel where Elijah had the showdown with the prophets of Baal. Elijah’s expression at the event … “How long will we limp along with two opinions”
At the same time I learned my grandmother's middle name is Salome ... apparently a derivative of the Hebrew word 'Shalom', meaning peace be with you.
I don't remember my grandmother being a 'religious' woman ... perhaps she was simply a 'spiritual' woman whose faith was strong enough that she didn't need to flaunt it with the 'externals' ... the various religious practices. I'm sure my dad told us when we were kids that he was 'fed' a lot of Scripture by his mom.
My dad was like his mom ... he never overtly demonstrated any affinity for 'religion'. He showed his faith by how he lived ... he was a very wise and very strong man. I remember him telling me one time that he quit his membership in the masons because his fellow members harassed him about allowing his children to be baptized Catholic.
My dad always put his family first ... something I still have to learn! ... and I am running out of time!!
My dad also had his own version of the "Hail Mary" which I only heard him recite once or twice ..."Hail Mary full of Grace ... wash your hands before your face"
On the surface this seems blasphemous ... and my dad smiled ... a friendly smile ... when he spoke these words. Have no idea where he first heard them. From a practical perspective though ... seems logical that we should wash our hands before we wash our face!
I'm confident my dad meant no offence ... he drove my mom to church every Sunday for so many years and I think on one or two occasions went into the church with my mom. Both my dad’s parents and grandparents were
My dad’s sister Ruby wrote this poem for my grandmother’s 80th birth-day. The poem serves as a reminder that my dad’s parents lived their adult life in humble circumstances in exile. I believe the move North was prompted by misfortunes in the south.
Happy 80th Birthday – Flossie Morley
It’s not just on your birthday, Mom, we wish you happiness, Our love and thoughts are you, more than you’ll ever guess, We pray for you most every day, and ask our Lord above, To graciously bestow on you, the blessings of His love.
You spent your childhood living in the house behind the barn In the little village of Kirkton, where grandpa used to farm, It’s only fifty miles from here and it’s much the same today Did you ever walk to Woodham, did you ever help to mow the hay?
Much later you and dad were wed, and northward did you roam You settled down in Monetville and built yourselves a home You fashioned it of logs, dear Mom, just like the pioneers, A home that heard much laughter, and even a few tears.
Remember, Mother, all the things you’ve knit down through the years, You’d crochet things, you’d sew and quilt and find time to dry our tears, You may think we’ve forgotten, Mom, but we remember well: The picnic lunches in the bush; the fun we had with Pal.
We know you loved to hear the frogs, it meant spring was round the bend, For the winter months were long and hard, we thought they’d never end. Remember how the wolves did howl( we thought we’d die from fright), But you’d laugh away our fears , dear Mom, and gently hold us tight.
You’d like to see the whippoorwills, they’d sooner run than fly; You’d watch them run along the rocks, (did you ever find out why?) We didn’t have electric lights, no plumbing and no phones; And we couldn’t pop into a store for candy, gum or cones.
Twas seventy miles to Sudbury, the same to reach North Bay. And we couldn’t watch the trains go by (they were forty miles away); But we recall our childhood days were filled, with fun and love And for them, many times we’ve knelt, and thanked the Lord above.
The years have quickly sped away, your children all have wed; Your family tree has grown and grown, how quickly it has spread; You’re grandma now to forty, and great-grandma to twenty, they say, And you have a great-great- grandchild now – how happy you must be today.
And now that your birthday is over – may the year that’s just begun, Turn out to be a happy year – in fact, your nicest one. And Mother, tho’ you hate to hear us brag or make a fuss, We thought today, you’d like to know, you mean the world to us.
OK ... now it seems I have paid appropriate tribute to both my mom and my dad ... the very little respect and gratitude I have expressed ... there is much more in my heart that perhaps I will find a way to express some-time.
A very special experience ... the visit to Café du Chalet Bar Tabac the gift of a lighter ... losing my regular lighter and being forced to use the gift.
The picture of the Indian Chief and the words:
"Once you have polluted the last river, once you have felled the last tree, killed the last buffalo, only then will you realize that you cannot eat all the money that you have put in your banks. Let us take the earth back"
May 30, 2004
Around 1:00PM ... it's been almost 24 hours since I put down my pen ... and again so much has happened in the last 24 hours ... how will I be able to write it all down. The excitement of the events is still so fresh in my mind. I must try hard not to embellish the facts or direct the experiences towards my personal views.
Here goes ... I will attempt to recall what happened in chronological order ... in point form and perhaps in more detail at some later date.
Yesterday I put down my pen ... picked up my backpack and 'hit the road' so to speak. After walking about 20 meters I hear this whistle ... the kind of whistle that says ...hey you ... look over here ... I turn around ... it's Martial ... hmmm ... I should have seen him when I got up to leave ... he was that close ... nope!
Several hundred words back I mentioned "Martial heads for the church and I head for the Joan of Arc Church ... this was first thing in the morning and I hadn't seen him since ... several hours.
We walked along together for a bit ... again Martial had difficulty keeping up with my slow pace and he walked on ahead of me. A few kilometers down the road Martial stopped to rest ... while tired and sore I wasn't ready to put down my backpack. I think I simply preferred to stop ahead somewhere so I could rest in solitude ... me and my thoughts and no interference ... how selfish eh!
A few kilometers later ... I'm lost! ... and I know I’m lost ... for me there is a huge difference. Most of the time I’m lost ... figuratively speaking! Yet I don't know I'm lost so it doesn't bother me
At this particular moment it bothers me that I am lost ... I make my best intuitive guess ... turn right and start down the hill ... about 80 meters down the hill my inner voice says ... this doesn't seem right. I stop for a bit ... turn around and head back up the hill ... for a pilgrim there is no worse experience than to go back over the same ground ... seems to me most pilgrims (those walking) prefer to keep going. In any event I head back ... and it's up hill no less! ... Yikes!!
At the top of the hill I study the guide again ... try to figure out from the map which direction to go ... I even ask the people who are working in the field beside the road. Seems they don't know the Camino St Jacques. I sing out the names of a few places on the map and they assure me that I should go back down the hill and eventually I will see a sign indicating the right direction.
Still doesn't seem right ... but on I go.
This little experience had a small 'side effect'. Because I was forced to study the map more closely ... a rare event for me ... I noticed that I had passed a place called "Le Trou de Diable" ... whew! ... Not so disap-pointed that I didn't see it ... and quite content that I did not fall into it!
My mind is amused at this point ... here I am putting the final touches on the meditation I have mentioned several times and still not written about the one associated with the expression "It's time to shit or get off the pot" ... and poof ... I get lost ... study the map ... and find I have not fallen into "Le Trou de Diable".
I keep walking ... now recognize where I am ... missed a turn and I need to make a long detour (1-2 kilometers) ... which is a long ways when you are Kaput! ... to get back on the Camino.
The sun is shining ... it's hot(about 33 degrees ... saw this on one of those electronic billboard things in town) My eyes notice something on the other side of the road ... curiosity aroused ... my eyes zoom in for a closer look ... oops! ... this is a snake! ... a big snake!! ... biggest I have ever seen snake ... 2-3 coils about 12" or so in diameter ... I figure this snake is about 3 feet long.
I had to look real hard to find it's head ... it was resting on one of the coils ... yikes! I have always had an aversion to snakes ... don't know why? ... I keep on walking ... saying to myself ...the snake is only sunning him-self/herself ... yellow stomach ... silver and grey color.
Good thing I was on the opposite side of the road ... being semi-comatose I would likely have stepped right on it!! ... not likely ... hopefully it would have moved first?
Intriguing .... first I am goaded into learning about "Le Trou de Diable" ... without being taken there for a visit ... and a few minutes later I am given this experience of the huge 'snake' all coiled up across the road from me ... like he is watching me ... waiting to strike?
So within a few minutes I was lost ... because I was lost ... I studied the map ... no help ... I take the wrong road and I see this big snake ... now I am feeling a bit intimidated.
The wrong road eventually takes me through a small village ... I think to myself ... alas! ... taking the wrong road would also deliver a 'blessing' ... I can have a coffee or drink sooner than I expected ... my 'involuntary' fast of the day would end ... you see there is an "R" on the map ... mean-ing there is a restaurant here ... no such luck! The restaurant is closed ... my involuntary fast is still on! ... Yuk!
Eventually I arrive in the town where my days walk is expected to end. By this time I have no cigarettes ... well I still have one pack of 'Players' in my backpack ... my eyes scan the horizon and I see a 'Tabac" sign ... but the store seems closed.
A motorcyclist pulls up beside the "Tabac' store ... hmmm ... if he heads for the door I will know if it's open or not and save myself a few steps ... he does ... the 'Tabac' store is open! ... I'm content now.
I head across the street ... I walk past the door to check out the 'Bar' next door ... seems closed ... Oh well! ... I'll buy my smokes and head across the street to the other 'Bar'. While buying my smokes I notice that the 'Tabac' shop and the Bar are connected and the door between them is open. Kind of dark and smoky ... not too appealing.
For some reason I decide it's not such a bad idea to go pee pee here. I ask the girl if I can use the washroom ... response ..."Oui" ... off I go.
On the way to the washroom and on the way back (to retrieve my back-pack in the Tabac shop) I notice several paintings of 'Indians' ... Indian Chiefs, Indian Girl etc. I study them ... now I am intrigued ... how is it that a bar in a small town in France has so much North American Indian art and paraphernalia.
Of course, I inquire ... turns out the gentleman to whom I direct my enquiry is the owner ... he explains to me that since he was young he has had this passion for the North American Indian. He has a library of stuff ... cassettes and whatever ... says he knows all the tribes etc I think to myself ... how interesting! I buy an orange juice and sit for a moment ... I want to explore this a bit more.
Chat more with the owner ... share with him that I believe I have some North American Indian ancestry. He warms up a lot towards me ... gives me a lighter ... the bar's name and address and a logo of an Indian with an eagle ... wow!! I think to myself ... this gentleman really does have a passion for the North American Indian.
A few minutes later I tell him I must leave ... he offers me a drink ... I decline explaining that I am on the Camino and I need to go outside and wait for a friend (Martial)
I originally planned to go across the street for a coffee ... a feeling of 'guilt' wouldn't allow me to now ... the bar across the street is visible through the window of the bar I just left ... I would feel terrible if he saw me at the bar across the street just after declining his generous offer (the drink)
I sit on the sidewalk ... contemplating what just happened ... seemed to me that today is a day to honour my ancestors ... a few hundred(maybe thousand) words back I wrote a bit about my mom ... my dad ... and my dad's mom and her dad. Perhaps it is now time to say a few words about my mom's parents ... Rose and Tom.
Perhaps for the moment, I will focus on my mom’s mother Rose. I believe Rose was born in Britt around 1890 ... if not born there ... spent some of her childhood there. I also believe Rose has North American Indian ancestry ... and therefore so do I. I have tried on several occasions to confirm this and so has one of my sisters ... Joanne ... no luck!.
I decided a few years ago ... i will simply take it as true and 'honour' them (North American Indians) as my ancestors and in a metaphysical way ... seek their help. There is so much more to share on this particular subject but I must move on or I will never finish (Golden Pond? Egansville)
I am quite excited about this experience ... I take it as an endorsement of my heritage ... the North American Indian component.
I decide to phone the lady Martial called this morning to arrange a room for me ... partly out of moral obligation ... I wouldn't want this lady to wait around for me and me not show up and partly because I figured maybe Martial called her again to arrange lodging for himself.
Found my telephone card and a pay telephone was 20 meters away ... no answer ... both numbers ... no connection with the first number and I declined the request to leave a message. The second number dialed I got the message "person is not available. I hung up and took a look at my phone credits ... the card I bought started at 50 credits ... this last phone call ... for a recorded message ... "person not available" ... cost me 5 credits ... ouch!
Not a good feeling. I called Paula to ask for some help to arrange insur-ance for the car so Sherry could drive it. The phone call to Paula ... Canada ... lasted longer ... had to leave my message ... and only cost 3 credits. Under my breath I am cursing the phone card system and think-ing how I just wasted 5 credits trying to connect with the owner of the ADP. The experience with the lady in the train station on the arrival in Paris.
With these unfriendly thoughts and feelings I open the door to the phone booth and head back to my backpack which I had left on the sidewalk.
As I am stepping out of the phone booth ... no more than 3 paces away ... a car pulls up and the lady driving the car ... an elderly lady ... turns her head towards me and starts talking ... she asks me ... "are you the pil-grim?"
Yup! ... the lady is Mme Vergut ... the lady who Martial had called this morning ... the person I was just trying to connect with by phone.
Quel surprise! ... my unfriendly thoughts and feelings of a few seconds earlier evaporate ... vanish! ... and are replaced with 'awe' and 'joy' ... wow! ... now not only have I made a contact ... I don't have to walk the one and a half kilometers to her house ... Cadeau de Dieu ... synchronicity ... who cares! .... I don't have to walk anymore today!
I sober up quickly from this exuberance when I remember Martial ... where is he? ... Does he have lodging for tonight? After all he made the phone call this morning and while I recall he made arrangements for me only ... I continue to be anxious about his welfare. I explain to Mme Vergut ... she is so charitable ... says she knows the Camino and will go looking for him. She drives around for a while ... stops twice to make enquiries ... people she knows who live alongside the Camino ... he will find his way.
On arrival at Mme Vergut's home I find the piece of paper Martial had given me several days earlier. I remember that he had mentioned earlier in the day ... if we get lost or separated ... call me or send me an email to let me know how your Camino finished. I learned later that in his mind I would spend the night at the ADP and out of necessity he would have to sleep somewhere else ... hence the assumption of separation.
I give the piece of paper to Mme Vergut and she assures me that she will call him right away.
Perhaps a few words about Mme Vergut's home ... it's a Château!! ... a huge Château!! ... How exciting. She stops at what I learn later is the former 'farmers' residence ... a separate building around 50 meters from the 'Château'. This particular building has not been used for several years ... not by the 'farmer's' family in any event. I learn later that Mme Ver-gut's family and the 'farmer's' family have been here ... on this property ... for three generations. Mme Vergut mentions her memory of going to school together with the 'farmer's' children.
Exciting news! ... Challenges my earlier views of life in a 'Château'. So much I could write here ... but again ... I must move on before I run out of ink! ... out of paper! ... or out of energy!
Mme Vergut makes a telephone connection with Martial ... she goes to pick him up ... he arrives ... what a day!
Mme Vergut shows us the fridge ... 3 beers in it ... spring water ... carbonated water ... I think ... how generous!
She informs me that 'we' will eat together around 8:30 PM ... she tells me this before she finds Martial.
We have a wonderful meal together ... pizza ... ordeuves ... fresh straw-berries ... caramel pudding ... wow!! ... conversation ... the most exciting part being Mme Vergut's sharing her memory of the day 3 Canadian soldiers 'dropped' out of the sky in her front yard ... fortunately they were wearing parachutes! ... What a day!
Mme Vergut's sister ... Mme Mercier is also visiting and supping with us ... somewhere in the conversation the subject of Ste Bernadette comes up ... turns out she is her favourite Saint ... hmmm
On leaving the house Mme Vergut and Martial are chatting ... I'm not really sure what they are talking about ... seems they are attempting to speak in simple French so I can understand ... I am not at all offended ... my mind is 'turbocharged' … trying to assimilate all that has happened today.
I hear the word Joan of Arc ... Mme Vergut mentions her ... I remember that Martial lives about 100 kilometers from where Joan of Arc spent her childhood. Martial had told me this earlier in the day. At this point I figure out that Mme Vergut is telling Martial that she is familiar with the area where he lives ... if not his village ... hmmm ... what a day!
I sleep like a baby ... coffee and breakfast around 8:00AM ... a soft knock at the door announces its arrival. Mme Vergut had mentioned the night before that the lady who helps her maintain the Château would be here in the morning and would bring us coffee et al if we like. Thinking about my morning need for a caffeine fix ... I accepted her generous offer.
Walked to town to attend mass ... lacked the trust to wait for Mme Mercier who had offered us a ride to town the night before ... she planned to attend mass as well.
Today is Pentecost Sunday ... hmmm
I find Mme Mercier waiting outside the church after mass ... she offers me a ride back to the Château ... I accept.
I write these last few pages and now I am pooped again ... still haven't got to my meditation ... maybe tonight ... who knows? ... Who cares?
What a 24 hours!
Martial's story about why he called the ADP in the morning ... assumed the ADP would only have room for one pilgrim and Martial was more concerned about me than about himself ... what generosity!!
Lost my lighter ... the gift I received at the bar ... the lighter with the eagle on it ... I packed away intending to keep as a souvenir ... lost my lighter somehow at Mme Vergut's and had to use the 'gift' ... kept using it until it ran out of fluid back in Canada a month or so later.
May 31, 2004 Been about 24 hours again ... it's around 1:00PM ... have walked about 10 kilometers ... in my shower sandals ... had to carry my boots ... they're all wet from yesterday ... ouch! ... More about this later.
The past 24 hours has several interesting twists and turns ... by the time I get to writing about them I hope I can remember them. I may never catch up with myself ... the pen seems willing enough to go fast ... but my hands are too sore .
I'm in Ainay le Château ... in the local café bar enjoying my favourite past time ... you guessed ... sipping on a coffee and smoking a cigarette. These moments are so much more 'special' on the Camino ... because it is usually several kilometers of walking in between ... oh! ... the small pleasures of a pilgrim.
I must get to writing about my meditation/reflection of the other day ... if not now ... I may forget all those 'crazy' thoughts I had.
Seems prudent to repeat the words (my paraphrase) of Thomas Kempis ..."Heed not the writer, read what is written and judge for yourself if there is any 'truth' in what you read."
Seems this particular reflection/meditation is another incident of 'Connecting the Dots' ... perhaps the 'seed' for what I am about to write was planted a year or so ago when I scribbled the note "It's time to fish or cut bait"
Here are the circumstances surrounding this particular 'scribbling'. I was in Guelph at the time, it was early in the morning ... between 3:00AM and 4:00AM. Some may say it was the middle of the night!
In any event ... it was one of those nights I felt compelled to get up and go out for one of my coffee and cigarette 'runs'. At the time there was no smoking allowed in any of the local coffee shops ... don't know why but I decided to drive to the Tim Hortons at Highway 6 and the 401 ... about 15 kilometers .
Seems I knew they still allowed smoking ... in the 'fishbowl' ... a small section of the coffee shop cordoned off with glass walls ... usually very smoky...Yuk!
I arrived at the coffee shop ... stopped the car and got out ... just as I stepped out of the car my 'inner voice' instructed me to take a pen and a piece of paper in with me. I stood there for a few seconds ... mulling around in my mind what this unexpected and highly unusual sentiment was all about. I resisted for a bit and finally said to myself ... OK ... what the heck. I'll take it in and see what happens.
I ended up writing a few words about a memory from Medugorje several years earlier ... around the expression ... "Any ‘dead’ fish can float down stream, it takes a ‘live’ fish to swim upstream" ... some thoughts about Joan of Arc and her going against the flow and changing the course of history. And the price one has to pay to go against the flow, people are simply not willing to pay the same price she paid … being burned at the stake. No more ... seemed that was all I had to write. So what was this all about? ... Who knows? ... Why did I save this particular 'scribbling' ... who knows? ... Who really cares?
As I write about this unusual experience ... the 'bizarre nature' of it strikes me even more ... 'something' wakes me from my sleep ... gets me out of bed and to a coffee shop 15 kilometers away to scribble a 100 words or so ... hmmm ... the words must convey something important?
Reminds me of the biblical story of Samuel ... he hears a voice calling him in the night ... he gets up and goes to his master and says ... here I am
Here is what I wrote that night
"Any ‘dead’ fish can float downstream; it takes a ‘live’ fish to swim upstream
I was reminded this morning of a cliché I heard in Medugorje (Bosnia Herzegovina) several years ago: “Any ‘dead’ fish can float down stream, it takes a ‘live’ fish to swim upstream”
Harsh words?
Begs the question … how is it that so many people perpetuate a ‘miser-able life' … day after day! The ‘misery’ is simply a question of degree … some days are simply ‘more miserable’ than others
We know in our ‘hearts’ that this is not good … yet we persist …
The story of Joan of Arc comes to mind … Joan was one of those people who refused ‘to go with the flow’ … some say she changed the course of history … and her ‘mission’ only lasted a couple of years. Those who know the ‘story’ also know the ‘price’ she paid.
Is it the ‘price’ we know we will have to pay if we choose ‘to swim upstream’ that keeps us ‘floating downstream … despite how ‘rough’ the ride gets.
Today, I don’t think we are worried about being ‘burned at the stake’ … the ‘price’ today (and always has been) … those who go against the flow are treated as ‘lepers’ by mainstream society.
Seems to me, the pain of ‘isolation’ is greater than the pain of participating in a ‘culture’ that we know is not producing good ‘fruit’.
“Any ‘dead’ fish can float downstream; it takes a ‘live’ fish to swim upstream”
PS At the same place (Medugorje) … Father Phillip(from the pulpit) uttered these words … “fighting for peace is like fornicating for chastity”
Just occurred to me, the 'seed' may have been planted in 1995. I quote an expression heard on my first visit to Medugorje ... Yikes!! ... my mind takes a long time to 'incubate' an idea or notion ... more accurately ... my mind had nothing to do with the 'incubation' ... 9 years is still a long time eh!
On with my meditation/reflection. You may recall I prefer the expression "It's time to shit or get off the pot" and it seems to me the two are analogous ..."It's time to fish or cut bait"
Let's break the expression up into 5 components and examine each component separately.
1) "It's time"....
2) "to shit" ...
3) "or" ...
4) "get off" ...
5) "the pot" ....
"It's time ... these two little words seem to intend to convey a sense of urgency ... a sense of 'now' ... the present .... a finite ... specific ... and definite point in time ... (just noticed that the similarity between the words 'finite' and 'definite' ... wonder if it is intentional?
"to shit" ... the word 'shit' has an impolite connotation and for many is considered inappropriate in all human conversation/writing. Let's set aside the 'morality' implications and look at what the word is intended to convey ... the process of expelling unwanted ... unnecessary for the maintenance of good health ... well being ... the component of that which was ingested ... orally or otherwise ... that is 'no good' ... sometimes it is simply everything eaten expelled ... our biological system is not in the 'mood' for separating what is good and necessary from what is 'bad and unnecessary' ... a condition known as diarreia!
All living creatures do it! ... expel waste that is!
A very necessary act ... most of us know the feeling when our biological system refuses to 'expel' this stuff ... often referred to as constipation ... uncomfortable and at times painful indeed!
The timing is normally unpredictable ... you don't hear someone saying ..."I will go for a shit tomorrow afternoon ... let's say at 3:00PM!
It happens when it happens ... young newborns provide an interesting perspective ... their facial expressions and vocal expressions during some of their 'acts of expulsion' are memorable ... they have not yet learned any rules of 'politeness' ... they simply do what comes naturally.
All of this suggests the process of expelling the unnecessary and un-wanted is sometimes painful and uncomfortable ... I will return to this point later.
"or" ... simple enough ... infers choice ... alternative ... one or the other ... not both.
"get off" ... infers movement ... exit ... change locations
"the pot" ... a specific location ... a public place ... a communal place. Why say 'get off' in the first place? ... other than to make room for someone else. We all know the feeling when we find ourselves in those uncomfortable circumstances where our biological system tells us it is "time" and someone else is on the 'pot' in the bathroom.
Another reference point that came to mind involved 'toddlers' ... that age where parents are trying to teach their children one of the rules of 'civilization' ... it is not OK to expel waste whenever and where ever you like ... one of 'civilizations' revolts against nature! This 'act of expulsion' is a personal and private act and one must follow the rules. OK so all parents can surely remember a time when their toddler was sitting on the pot and yet nothing is happening ... the toddler is having a good time ... but the parent grows impatient ... eventually ... perhaps without being explicit ... without saying to the toddler ..."shit or get off the pot" ... the parent somehow displaces the toddler.
Suppose for the purpose of meditation the 'pot' symbolizes the earth and the 'shit' symbolizes all that is unnecessary for our well being. Actions of mankind ... aggression ... war ... notion of private property etc.
Perhaps Mother Nature will behave the same way as the impatient parent and 'displace' us ... kick us off the planet!
Let's add to this image my comments earlier about how sometimes the 'act of expulsion' is at times painful and difficult ... especially if the 'waste' has been in our system for a while.
My mind is now drifting off to several other 'beta' points ... the scribbling 'vilification' ... when the time for birth arrives ... there is no stopping the process ... the difficulty and pain associated with child birth.
Here is the scribbling I just referred to as 'vilification' ... written almost exactly one year ago.
"Vilification" by pilgrim_tom - Guelph, Canada 02/18/2004 18:21 IT
Seems to me the nature of 'vilification' in all of its' forms derives from our 'animal' nature ... an innate survival instinct response. Ugly yet 'natural' Most peoples for several millenniums have subscribed to the notion that the human species has 2 natures ... 'animal' and 'divine' we all share the same 'animal' nature with minor variations depending on environmental conditions seems to me our individual 'religions' simply attempt to define our individual view of our 'divine' nature ... by most definitions of 'divine' ... this attitude will likely always fail because 'divine' is so far beyond human comprehension ... it defies being re-stricted to human traditions, definitions etc mankind is more 'connected' today than at any other time in history ... perhaps this 'connectedness' will facilitate a giant leap in the transformation of the human species from predominantly 'animal' to a closer reflection of the 'divine' seems to me the analogy of child birth ... (also used in the ancient Torah) provides the best imagery of just how difficult this 'transformation' will be ... aside from the difficulty and the pain usually associated with child birth is another truth ... once the time for birth has arrived ... there is no turning back ... there is no reversing the process ... either the child will be born or the child will die in it's mother's womb ... seems to me ... the choice is ours ... we can choose to die in the womb(here on earth) or we can choose to be born ... and see the 'light'
Another memory ... 'connecting the dots' ... is my experience surrounding my visit to Penalba Spain ... the 'mystery' surrounding how I got there ... how I learned a couple of years later that the word "Penalba" derives from two Spanish words ... "pena" and "alba" ... translated roughly as "difficult dawn"
In plain English ... for some time now I have harboured the belief that mankind is on the threshold of a major transformation ... perhaps the 'end of an age' ... in scope, similar to the ice age.
Why am I willing to share my opinion more publicly now? I have already shared it with some of the people who have crossed my path ... why in these particular circumstances? Who knows? ... Who cares?
"Life is useless ... it's like chasing the wind"
Back to the events of yesterday ... almost immediately after putting down my pen at Mme Vergut’s I get this strong feeling ... it's time to move on ... no dilly dallying ... get your stuff together and 'hit the road'.
I respond to my intuition ... like a child being given explicit instructions from it's mother!
Don't really know what time it is or where I will spend the night ... doesn't seem to bother me at the moment ... all I feel is ... time to move on ... like the television series ..."The Littlest Hobo" ... I'll be moving on ... until tomorrow.
Barely get off the property ... the laneway to the Château is at least 1/2 kilometers long ... and it starts to drizzle ... not a good sign! ... I decide to push on anyway ... what's a little water! ... turned into a lot more than a little water!
Pulled out my rain cover ... a large yellow thing that covers most of me and my backpack ... eventually the rain turned from a little drizzle to a mediocre rain. I found shelter under a tree ... made a tent from my yellow rain thing ... sat there leaning on my backpack ... reasonably comfortable and dry ... as long as I didn't stretch out my legs!
Rained on and off for a while ... a bit of thunder ... no lightening! After a short period of no rain ... less than half an hour ... I'm impatient ... think I have to get to the next village ... still 3-4 kilometers away ... my next caffeine fix!
I head out ... covered with my protective yellow thing. Sure enough ... a couple of hundred meters down the road the rain starts again ... a dark ominous cloud ... now on my left moves directly in front of me ... hmmm ... I think I am going to get wet! Yup! ... Drenched ... no tree for shelter ... my boots, socks and lower pants are drenched! Oh well! I slog along figuring I am wet now ... can't get any worse.
As I approach the village a bit of anxiety creeps in ... what if this is a 'one horse town'?? ... one café?? ... and being Sunday ... it's closed ...Yikes!
Turns out the local café is open ... the door is open as I approach ... what a relief! The people working in the restaurant are very kind ... they bring me to a room in the back where I can sleep on the floor ... large enough room ... probably used for groups on special occasions ... a washroom in the corner ... perfect!
I've had my coffee ... all I want now is some rest ... ideally some sleep! Roll out my bed roll ... put on some dry clothes and lie down. Seems I will be able to dose off ... it's around 7:00 PM ... my normal bed time in Canada ... and I'm not hungry.
About 45 minutes later I hear this familiar voice ... it's Mme Vergut ... what a pleasant surprise! ... I really like Mme Vergut (perhaps more about her later). She says "is that him? ... oh he is sleeping" I get up and lean on my hands. She says that when she asked the lady in the café up front about me ... she thought the answer was that I had a room ... a regular room ... with a bed and all!
She seemed quite surprised to see me sleeping on the floor and also quite genuinely concerned about my welfare. She offered to take me back to her Château ... now imagine that! ... yesterday I wanted to spend an extra day at the Château and I didn't have the courage to ask Mme Vergut ... and here she is asking me to come back and spend another night ... go figure!
Of course I decline ... I am content where I am , despite the fact that sleeping on the floor here is infinitely less comfortable ... and less private ... as I would learn later.
Mme Vergut goes on to explain that she was out with her 3 grandsons for supper and that she was looking for Martial ... to give him back the 30 euros he had left her. She seemed quite disappointed that Martial had left her a large cake, 2 coquilles de St Jacques and 30 euros. See ... I didn't leave her any grief ... only left her a note with my name and address.
She had told me in the car on the way to her place that she did not expect any payment from pilgrims ... such generosity! ... and of course el cheapo here wasn't going to argue!
Mme Vergut insisted that I take the 30 euros and either give them back to Martial or to someone else down the road. I really like Mme Vergut.
I tried to get back to where I was ... almost asleep ... nope ... about a half hour later I decide it is OK to get up and buy a bowl of soup. I only need to walk to the front of the building ... through the kitchen :-) ... of course ... having a cigarette was part of the consideration!
I'm 2-3 meters into the café and who is standing at the bar having a beer? ... Martial! We exchange greetings ... I ask him about wet feet ... No! No! he says ... "my feet are dry ... I found a tree and sat out the rain" ... hmmm .... seems Martial is more patient than me ... or at least much more practical!
I start to tell him about Mme Vergut ... he interrupts and says ... "Oui ... Oui ... she found me and told me the whole story" I would try to give Martial back his 30 euros in the next hour or so ... he refused to accept it ... hmmm ... so now I have progressed from finding cheap accommodations ... zero cost at Mme Vergut’s ... zero cost here at the café ... to where I am ahead 30 euros ... hmmm ... actually the 30 euros may cause some grief ... now I have no idea what to do with it ... in the meantime, the 30 euros are in my pocket. This generosity makes my $100 to the Irishman look paltry.
About an hour later Andre walks in ... haven't seen Andre since Vezelay ... the day I met his wife and daughter Sophie.
Pilgrims, who get along, are always happy to see each other after a few days of being 'out of touch'. Martial had met Andre in Vezelay as well.
We sit together, chat and later eat supper together. 'El cheapo' ... me with my bowl of soup (delicious) and Martial and Andre with a 4 course meal ... they insisted I share their meal ...I politely declined despite the fact that the soup ... some bread and a glass of wine seemed to only whet my appetite ... I would pay for this oopsy ... I wouldn’t have a chance to eat again for 24 hours ...ouch! ... next time
Except for the apple I was given as a gift at the café this morning ... and 3 coffees! (Portuguese lady and my book from Fatima)
Went to bed around 11:00 PM ... slept OK ... on and off ... didn't get up off the floor until 9:30 AM the next morning ... must have slept OK
Back into the café ... learn that Andre and Martial haven't left yet ... sip on my coffee ... smoke my cigarette ... what a treat!
The same nice lady is helping Martial and Andre make arrangements for lodging tonight ... she looks at me and asks ..."et vous?" ... I politely reply that at the moment I have no idea where I will walk today ... I am stuck walking in my shower sandals ... my boots will likely take a day or so to dry. The lady brings out a piece of bread some ham and one of those small packets of butter for Andre ... and Andre is so practical ... as I would learn later today ... I should try harder to be practical more often!
I explain my attitude to Andre ... on previous walks I would most often decide in the morning where I would stop for the day ... and the decision was most of the time based on availability of a 'bed'. On this walk, I am trying something new ... make no plans ... accept whatever comes along . Of course, in my mind I see pleasant outcomes ,,, e.g. a warm bed.
Not so today ... maybe I should go back to the old way ... make sure you have somewhere to eat and a bed to sleep in ... nah! ... been there ... done that!
Reminds me of an ancient Arab saying I heard several years ago ... "Trust in God but tie your camel tight!"
Seems today I am being reminded once again just how practical this expression is!! Oh well! ... I have never been big on 'practicality' ... why change now? The flip side of my 'cockiness' is ... stop whining and griping about having nothing to eat and no place to sleep ... comfortably!
Mr Peauger Jean Luc
4 Rue des Maures
03360 Ainay le Château
Walked about 10 kilometers today. On arrival in the village I learned that not only was the local bar/café open ... the Tabac store and grocery store too! …bonus!
A sign hanging over the café/bar suggested there might be access to internet here ... I start to get excited ... I can check my email ... learn of the response to the writing I posted a few days ago ... wow!
Found Martial at the computer ... hmmm ... seems our paths are destined to keep crossing. Drink my coffee, smoke a few cigarettes and wrote about my meditations/reflections.
Martial leaves ... he seems rushed ... he has another 20 kilometers to walk to where he is supposed to sleep tonight. See it is not always so 'peaceful' to make plans in the morning. Martial is upset that he spent one and one half hours in the café. (I would not see Martial again ... and I would have my own reasons for being upset that I spent a couple of hours in this same café/bar!
Check my emails ... a few new emails ... no response from Ron ... no new postings on the web page and therefore no feedback. Email from Natalie ... the 3 trees.
Remembered my scribbling a ways back about how sometimes our fantasies take us up on the 'wings of an eagle' and than suddenly ... 'splat' ... well what I just described ended in a rather large 'splat'!
Life is useless ... it's like chasing the wind.
In my sad state I ask myself ... what am I doing this for? ... I am not going to write any more ... not even the seemingly exciting new meditations of today concerning the notions of 'time and 'space'.
Now I just want to find a place to sleep ... crawl into bed and sleep this 'feeling' off. The lady at the bar is very kind ... she phones a couple of the places noted in the guide ... 1st place people are away on vacation ...2nd attempt ... room available for 45 euros and this place is a 7 kilometers walk! ... a polite "non merci"
The local grocery store closed while I was dilly dallying with the computer at the café/bar ... yikes!! Now I can't even buy anything to eat ... and there is no restaurant open in this village...
Yikes!! Spent a few hours at the café ... futzing with the scanner ... checking emails ... trying to get some of my notes online
I figure I might as well 'hit the road' and try my luck at the next village ... about 7 kilometers. My feet are really sore ... in part from walking 10 kilometers in my shower sandals ... and in part from the cumulative effect of walking 150 kilometers or so in the past 8 days ... and to make this worse ... it starts to drizzle ... yuk! ... Double YUK!!
I start to think maybe it is better if I spend the night in this village. I have this feeling ... more likely a desperate hope ... that the local church may have an 'overhang' where I can spend the night and not get drenched! ... Maybe freeze to death! ... But at least I will go dry!
I spot a 'caboose' of sorts across the street with several of the local men sitting in it chatting ... think to myself ... maybe I can sleep there.
My lethargic feeling passes quickly ... I start writing again ... I am OK ... why would I think what I am doing would be easy! ... as a matter of fact ... it often occurs to me that the more resistance I confront ... the stronger the likelihood there is merit in what I am doing ... not sure what logic this is based on ... likely my reading about the lives of some of the saints ... like St Francis.
I find the church ... and yes ... it has a small 'overhang' ... I find a public washroom around the corner ... open all night! It’s like this was all planned! oh the mystery of it all sometimes!
Probably around 8:00PM ... no sun and no clock! ... Sitting at the en-trance to the church ... a statue of St Francis over the doorway (another long story)
Been here for a few hours ... came here looking for shelter from the rain ... hoping the church would have an 'overhang' ... it does" ... about 12' by 8' ... enough hopefully to keep me dry all night!
I learned about 4:00 PM there would be no 5 star accommodation tonight ... the 'fruit' of my morning attitude ... 'frowning at people for being practical'.
I've been lamenting for the past couple of hours ... you see not only is there no bed tonight ... there is no food ... nada! ... stores were all closed when I stepped out of the café at 4:00 PM (more later) I looked up at the statue of St Francis and said to myself ... "St Francis ... I don't have the courage to go 'door to door' and beg for something to eat ... you are going to have to help me here"
An hour or so later an 'angel' arrived ... Jean Luc ... he brought me a bowl of hot soup ... a piece of bread ... a glass of wine ... 2 peaches and 2 doughnuts ... what a feast!! ... Soup was delicious. Jean Luc seems to uphold the axiom "those who have the least are often the most generous" Many other people walked by who appeared more affluent ... only Jean Luc came back ... he said he would also give me a few bucks but right now he doesn't have any ... what a generous soul!!
He had no cigarettes so I gave him a few. I am encouraged about the prospects for sleep now ... my stomach won't be nagging me for some-thing to eat! I am also encouraged concerning the condition of mankind ... there are likely lots of people like Jean Luc in this world ....
Jean Luc brings a friend to help him carry my supper
Brings his daughter with him at coffee time ... yup he brings me a coffee an hour or so later ... wow! ... What generosity!!
Perhaps I am a bit of a spectacle! ... not every day some 'foreigner' sleeps at the door of the church!
Wow ... I am almost all caught up with my writing ... only thing left to write about are today's meditations ... not tonight ... dark soon and I have no candles!
June 2, 2004 (I think)
Back again! It’s been about 40 hours since I put down my pen. After retiring my pen for the night, I attempted to retire myself ... put on my jacket, arranged my bed roll and sleeping bag ... tried something new tonight ... I doubled up my bed roll ... figured it would provide more comfort for the heaviest part of my body ... my belly! ... made a pillow with my towel and laid down and made a serious attempt to get to sleep.
A few minutes later my knees were getting cold ... they were lying almost directly on the cement. I had placed my sweatshirt underneath them. Got up and adjusted my bedroll so my knees would have some protection from the cold damp cement.
Back down ... a few minutes later felt the rain on my face ... it was a light drizzle and the wind would blow some rain into my 'shelter'. I looked at the foot of my bedroll and noticed the rain creeping in to the point where my feet would soon be wet ... I changed positions ... crawled back as far as possible ... now leaning directly against the door of the church ... the topography was not so good in this location ... a significant downward slope in the cement ... intentional I suppose to keep the water from running into the church.
While seems the design served this purpose ... it was not amenable to sleeping on! I pulled out the plastic Air Canada bag ... the one they wrapped my backpack in at the Toronto airport ... I'm thankful now that I saved it! Placed it over my sleeping bag ... hoping to save my sleeping bag from getting drenched during the night ... a few minutes later it slipped off my sleeping bag ... oh well! ... some say it is the thought that counts!
Tossed and turned and shifted positions often during the night ... hardly slept. Still drizzling in the morning ... head back to the café/bar for a coffee ... not sure what time it is ... café is open ... it's around 7:30 AM.
Coffee tastes great! ... I contemplate my alternatives for today ... thinking perhaps the fact that it is still raining suggests I should stay in this village another day ... have another go at the scanner again and maybe type my notes ... the computer in the café had the MicroSoft 'Word' icon on the desktop.
Of course, this meant spending another night under the overhang at the church. While all these little details seemed to suggest 'fate' arranged for me to stay here ... the rain ... the access to the internet and the availability of the 'Word' software ... a dry ... quasi dry but cool place to sleep. I’m too tired to walk ... no sleep the night before.
Eventually I decide to 'spurn' fate again and 'hit the road' ... knowing there is a religious place to stay about 17-18 kilometers down the road. I had overheard Martial saying "Oui ma Soeur" the day before when making arrangements for his accommodation. I also knew I should be making arrangements by phone (per instructions in the guide) before leaving ... nope ... I would call when I arrive ... off I go!
The walk is OK for the first few kilometers ... after 5-6 kilometers it quickly becomes difficult. At kilometers 6 or 7 I arrive at another village. Another coffee and I also eat the other 2 croissants ... 2 large croissants! ... I would pay for eating these 3 large croissants in such a short time period!
The guide indicated that one could walk along the canal from this village to the next ... around 10 kilometers. I checked the map and the canal seemed to go in a straight line where as the Camino zigged and zagged as usual. The short distance and the absence of pavement and traffic ap-pealed to me.
My stomach was sore from the croissants!
I checked with the owner of the bar ... wanting to confirm the location of the canal and the 'walk ability'. He informed me that it was not practical to walk along the canal this morning ... with the rain and all my feet would get all wet ... hmmm ... my impractical nature won the day again ... wet grass or not ... I'm walking along the canal!
I would learn to regret this decision as well! ... as I walked along the canal ... my feet got heavier and heavier with every step ... as my boots ... my socks ... and my pants continued to absorb water along the way ... yuk!
A very difficult few hours ... nonetheless I arrive in the village ... I walked the final kilometers or so in my shower sandals. Another first for me in this village ... my first stop when arriving in a village (on all my walks) is the first open bar or café ... anxious for a 'caffeine' fix. Today I would visit the church first ... I wasn't in the mood for prayer and I wasn't in that state where I felt an urge to call on God for help ... nope ... simply went in for a nice quiet and short visit.
Next stop the bar ... see I am still OK!!
An orange juice ... no coffee ... my stomach is still unsettled.
Ask about the Franciscan Sisters location ... learn it is only a few hundred meters away ... a right ... a left ... and then some instructions I didn't understand! I thought about calling first ... nope...
Found it ... rang the doorbell ... a friendly face greeted me ... seemed to understand my condition ... fatigue ... wet ... exhausted! She asked me about calling with notice of my intent ... I replied that I wasn't sure I would arrive here ... the weather (rain) and all. She told me I was fortu-nate ... the person staying the night before had just left (Martial). She goes to retrieve a key and steps outside ... leads me to another building 20 meters away ... opens the door and ushers me in. This place is a 2 bed-room apartment ... heated! ... it is still cool and damp outside ... wow!!
Almost immediately I drum up the courage to ask her if it is OK if I stay 2 nights(didn't want to make the same booboo I did with Mme Vergut et Château Nerveux) Of course, I qualified my request ... "providing no other pilgrim shows up tomorrow."
She looked at me ... hesitated only for a second or 2 and replied ... Oui ... what a relief!!
Found a grocery store ... bought some grub and found my way back to the apartment. Ate a large (very large) bowl of cereal ... Fruits & Fibres ... a piece of bread and jam ... cleaned up my mess and went to bed! ... it is about 5:00PM. Sleep until about 7:00AM the next morning ... whew! ... was I tired!
While I am sipping on my coffee at the café across the street ... too lazy to make my own ... and if I did ... wouldn't smoke in the apartment anyway!
Reflecting on the previous day or so ... find it intriguing that one night I am sleeping outside in the cold and damp ... under a statue of St Francis ... hungry ... I remember looking at the statue of St Francis and saying to myself ... No St Francis ... I don't have the courage to go door to door begging for something to eat. An hour or so later my soup arrives ... Today I am staying in a 2 bedroom heated apartment sponsored by the Franciscan Sisters ... hmmm.
Go and find access to the internet ... check my email ... respond to the people who have sent me mail. Go home to do my laundry and take a shower.
I use 4 locations to do my laundry ... the bathroom sink, the kitchen sink, the bedroom and a wash basin I found in the kitchen. I have to wash everything ... it is so dirty ... damp ... and smelly ... all except my paja-mas(don't know any pilgrim who carries flannelette pajamas ... glad I have mine though ... the nights are cool ... especially "under the stars!"
Forgot to mention the old fashioned washrooms ... the ones that have a place for each foot ... suppose with each foot properly placed ... assume the appropriate squatting position and you will 'hit' the hole. I was never trained properly for their use ... suppose if I wasn't so tired it would be easier ... after walking all day ... feet so sore ... can hardly stand any more ... and now I have to squat and hold my balance during the 'ceremony' ... yuk!
How to keep my pants dry at the same time? Also learned that if you flush the 'thing' while still standing on the 'foot stalls' ... your feet get a nice shower!
Also forgot to mention some behaviour I have seen in the last couple of bars I visited. As people enter ... they shake hands with all the patrons (even strangers like me!) and say 'bonjour'. The ladies often kiss and are kissed on the cheeks ... neat! ... I think to myself ... this behaviour seems to confirm that innate human need 'to belong' ... by shaking hands ... th e individual is saying ... "I belong" ... "you belong" and therefore ... "we belong" ... we are part of this 'community of peoples' and it is good to confirm this 'sense of belonging' often ... hmmm ... very interesting!! ... very impressive!!
It's late in the afternoon now ... around 4:00PM ... I'm sitting in the garden ... a few meters from the door to the apartment ... part of the property of the Franciscan sisters.
A grotto and a statue of Our Lady of Lourdes in the corner ... quite a peaceful place ... lots of flowers ... some birds singing ... sun shining and a warm and at times strong breeze.
Figure I will have a go at the meditations/reflections from the day before yesterday ... none yesterday ... I was too tired!!
The notion of 'time' and 'space'. Investigating the notion of 'time' is much too complicated for my little brain ... I am no Einstein. I saw a cartoon picture on a video machine at the bar where I stopped the other day(internet and scanner one) that looked like Einstein ... Connecting the dots ... I remember Claudia gave me a book several years ago that was intended to make Einstein's theories understandable ... something like "Einstein for Dummies". At the time Claudia told me she had no idea why she bought me this book ... only that it seemed important that she buy it for me ... hmmm. I tried reading it ... guess I don't make it as a 'dummy' either because I still couldn't understand any of his theories, in particular his theory of relativity. I grasped some of it but couldn't translate it into anything my mind could comprehend.
A year or so later in Nerja Spain the same topic came up for discussion with my friend Xavier who was the cook at the lodge at that time.
Xavier took great pains to explain Einstein's theory of relativity ... drew pictures and all. I remember thinking for sometime after this occasion ... wow ... Xavier a young man ... around 30 ... short order cook ... and he understands Einstein's theory of relativity. Xavier's intelligence and wisdom was often impressive ... seemed beyond his education and age.
Back to my meditations/reflections while walking. Seems to me 'time' is one of those notions that the human species is preoccupied with .. e.g. time is money ... history etc The notion of future, present and past is also intriguing. Using a 'month' as a unit of measure it is easy to relate next month, this month and last month with future, present and past. Now if we take a 'second' as a unit of measure ... better still ... I should get into the 21st century here ... a millisecond ... 1/1,000 of a second ... I think.
In this case the journey from future to present to past is so much quicker ... it's a blur ... how to distinguish the future ... 1/1,000 of a second from the period that represents the present ... 1/1,000 of a second is not so easy ... I can't visualize it.
As the measure for the unit of time gets smaller and smaller ... what happens ... surely at some point they converge ... and there is no longer any distinction between future, present and past. Is this the field of quantum physics ... the stuff Einstein was working on late in his life? Is this the potential 'convergence' ... what is referred to as eternity ... no beginning ... therefore no past ... and no end ... therefore no future ... a perpetual state of 'the present'
Brings to mind the notion of the 'soul' ... that eternal dimension of our being. If the 'soul' is eternal ... no beginning and no end ... seems logical that there is no 'soul factory' ... there is no place where new 'souls' are being produced and being sent to the planet earth. If this is so ... there are only two possibilities ... the same soul keeps coming back (Buddhist belief) or there is an infinite supply of souls somewhere waiting for their turn to come to earth ... just think ... if every living creature has a 'soul' and this unique soul only comes to earth once ... how many souls there must be somewhere.
Even if we limit the proposition to every human being ... how many of the two legged creatures have come and spent some time on earth?
Reminded of a conversation I had a couple of years ago with a young man I met at one of the refuges in Spain ... can't remember his name yet the surroundings ... the refuge ... the bench outside ... to a lesser extent his appearance are all very clear in my memory. This young man was quite intelligent and well read. The discussion included an exchange of opin-ions on reincarnation.
He seemed OK with the Buddhist notion of continuous reincarnation until the soul reaches the level referred to as Nirvana (I think). His concern, which may be what kept him from fully embracing Buddhist theology, was whether or not we retained some sense of individual consciousness ... in some form we are still individual, unique identifiably so. Wonder how this fits with Carl Jung's theory of 'collective unconscious' Like Einstein ... I couldn't comprehend the little I read about Carl Jung.
Reminds me of another discussion I participated in last summer ... somewhere between Santiago de Compestelle and Fisterra(Spanish word for end of the earth ... world). This place (Fisterra) was the western most point of land in Europe and until 1492 or so (AKA Columbus) was considered by all ... the end of the earth.
In this discussion ... 5 or 6 young people (20 to 25) and myself ... several topics were batted around. One of the young men struck me as being highly intelligent and well read ... I remember him saying he had a passion for Greek Mythology. This young man said "Jesus " ... the Jesus of Nazareth ... may have been the first human being with a conscious recollection of where he came from. Obviously I found this statement interesting ... why else would my memory store it where I can and often do recall the words in the statement. His girl friend(this young couple is from California or some other west coast state ... the land of fruits and nuts :-) ... made an interesting comment as well.
The young girl who shared an expression she had heard ... one cannot anchor a stick in the river and expect to change the flow of the river.
Somehow the discussion drifted into an exchange of views concerning the 'end' ... end as in end of the world ... end of this age ... end of mankind as we know it.
She stated that perhaps our purpose for being here now(referring to all the people or at least many) is to hurry this process of 'self destruction' or whatever along ... if we are going out ... let's hurry up and get on with the show kind of meaning.
At first and for some time afterward ... a long time afterward ... I found her statement uncomfortable ... unpleasant ... uncharitable etc. Why would we want to involve ourselves ... our energy ... our time etc in expediting the 'end'. Made no sense to me ... couldn't see myself embrac-ing this particular ideology or whatever the correct term is ...
Today ... I am not so sure ... not so sure there is not some comfort ... some pleasantness ... some charity ... in her attitude. How so?
Well ... let's suppose the 'end' is inevitable ... something like the 'ice age' ... the theory of Entropy ... or one of the many other theories that abound.
Why endure the misery of 'waiting' ... tolerate all the insensitivity ... the aggression ... the violence going on around the world ... What the heck! ... Let’s get on with it and have it done and over with.
Now ... let's suppose we have a choice ... not to postpone or eliminate the 'end' ... but ... to prepare ourselves ... mankind ... for what is on the other side of the 'end' ... hmmm. Isn't this the story of Christianity? ... and many other religions including North American Indian
Seems I have drifted away from my thoughts on the notion of 'time'.
So much for the notion of 'space' ... moving ... one foot in front of the other ... yet am I really moving ... the earth is rotating on its' axis and moving all in its' orbit ... assume the rotation is east to west ... when heading west I am actually going backwards?... hmmm
June 5, 2004
Been a couple of days since I have written ... seems my appetite for writing has diminished ... perhaps the disappointment in village where I learned it is very impractical to think I could keep my writing posted to the internet on a regular basis ... coupled with the absence of 'cheer leaders' ... had access to internet for a few days ... no encouragement ... nominal.
So I walked on ... and on ... and on...
In a melancholy mood leaving ' ' ... unusual given I just had 2 days of rest ... great accommodation and all.
Only walked about 17 kilometers today ... stopped at kilometers xx ... a small village ... walking into the village I had the feeling I should stop and eat my breakfast ... the jam sandwich I made in the morning ... also had the feeling I should rest at the church ... beautiful old church ... small and simple ... open gate ... pass the small side door thinking maybe it leads to the basement ... went around to the main entrance ... closed ... on my way back I decide to try the small door ... surprise ... surprise! ... it was open ... peaceful inside ... not ornate ... 3 statues ... Mary, Ste Therese and an old statue of St Roche ... thinking every church in France must have a statue of Ste Therese. Eat my sandwich ... rest a bit ... where I am sitting the monument directly across ... see it often, especially in the small villages ... notice that 12 names marked for World War I ... seems profound ... such a small hamlet ... lose 12 men during the war ... seems must have been 50 percent or more of the men in the village at the time. How did the village recover from such a loss? ... No wonder the French had no appetite for another war 20 years later.
The gentleman who operates the l'abrit de nuit has arrived ... ah! ... a place to sleep ... 2 sets of bunk beds and a table ... shower and a stand up toilet ... what more could a pilgrim want! Settle in ... go out and buy some grub ... cheese bread tomato can of tuna and a box of soup.
When I ask the gentleman if he can warm up my soup he offers me some homemade soup ... quite delicious ... shower and go to bed. Sleep most of the late afternoon ... early evening
Decided to walk to the RP marked on the map ... did not wish to call ... simply show up ... if there is a bed ... great ... if not ... who knows!
When I arrived I was greeted by Annie ' ' ... a very kind lady ... met her husband Paul and son Francois ... nice people ... very peaceful location in the country ... so quiet ... a bit of a shock to my system ... accustomed to 'quiet' when walking ... almost always stop in a village for the night ... th e noise of the village is in some way comforting ... reinforces the 'connec-tion' ... I am not alone.
Make myself my sardine and onion meal ... happy now that I bought them the night before.
June 6, 2004
Up at 6:30 AM ... no choice ... have to be out at 7:00 AM ... rules of the house ... wait around for 40 minutes for the café to open. Today is the anniversary of the invasion of Normandy ... Wilhelm mentioned it to me yesterday ... saw a picture of Bush on the front page of newspaper. Also the Feast Day of the Holy Trinity ... don't know what time mass is ... will go back to the church after coffee. Thinking of Uncle Bruce again ... wonder where he was in June 1944? ... and Uncle Charlie ... and dad!
Ann Paul and Francois ... very nice people ... Francois bought a donkey 6 months ago ... he says it's a fad now in this region?? Paul says to me when leaving 'ultreya' ... 'suseia' ?
Andre and Martial had been here 2 nights before. Annie said she knew me when I arrived ... hmmm
Joined the family for breakfast ... very nice. In conversation Annie mentions the Gauls and the Celts ... apparently inhabited this region. She says something about the 'people' who discovered how to make fire ... this statement would come back to my mind as I walked today. The expression 'flick my Bick' came along as well. I can't imagine what life would have been like without fire ... discussed the topic briefly with Wilhelm ... he said the people would likely carry a flame or coals from tribe to tribe in an attempt to preserve the 'fire' ... the people of the day would have known the benefit of fire ... 'warmth'
Wonder what their diet was ... can't see them killing an animal and than go looking for a forest fire to cook the meat! How exciting it must have been when the ingenious individual discovered how to start a 'fire'. Wonder if this almost miraculous discovery happened simultaneously around the world ... i.e. on the different continents at the same time. How day to day life for the human species changed after this discovery!
Tiptoe across the grass ... to keep my boots dry ... they get drenched later that day ... stubbornly stick to route! vs. day before ... see next page or so
Decided to look on internet for some info about the discovery of fire ... I found the following article interesting ... especially the legend about discovering how to start a fire ... accident and snake involved ... hmmm!
Greatest Discovery
Take away fire and man (stands for both the genders) will revert to wilderness like any other animal! The greatest discovery made by man alone on this good earth is the art of making and maintaining fire. He, like any other animal, had seen fire striking from clouds, devouring bushes and trees, and devastating large tracts of green land. He had also seen fire being spewed by a volcano and the molten lava snaking and snarling its way down the slopes. He also knew it gave heat and scared ferocious animals. Though still not proven, but most probably he had learned how to keep it burning. It provided him and his associates with light, warmth, and a device to keep ferocious animals away. He must have also learned to control fire which, in the long run, helped him to smelt metal ores.
But man did not know how to kindle it. The day he discovered this art, he separated for good from the animal kingdom that roamed the earth. He had discovered the source of light, heat, and energy -- the very basis of civilization. Fire helped man to reduce nomadic lifestyles and develop social and political institutions connected with a fixed abode.
Legends of how man learned to make fire are as numerous as there are ancient nations. A god brought or stole it down the sky is but an illusion to lightening striking and starting a fire. It was thrown up by the earth reminds us of a volcanic eruption. It was brought down a tree by a wise man indicates that it was obtained from a burning tree. It is a product of two rubbing branches or a child of ten mothers’ points to the much later discovery of creating friction by placing a stick in a wooden groove and rubbing, rather rotating the stick with two palms, the ten fingers, the ten mothers.
The most striking is the Iranian legend, preserved, among other writings, in Ferdowsi's Shahnameh. Here is a gist of the Shahnameh's story:
Hushang
Hushang succeeded his grandfather Kayumars, the first of the Pishdadian Kings. He girdled himself with wisdom and justice.
The Discovery of Fire
Our ancestors worshipped God, had their beliefs, and followed certain ceremonies. In those days, the blazing fire was the altar just as the Arabs have stone as their prayer niche. But the discovery of fire was quite incidental. This happened before iron was discovered.
One cold day, Hushing and his party were returning from a hunting expedition. They saw a snake coiled in their path. Hushang aimed his flint axe at it. He missed and the snake slithered away. But the axe hit another stone, also a flint and produced a bright spark The curious king took hold of the two flints and struck more sparks. And he learned to produce enough sparks to ignite a fire. He discovered how to make fire! "This spark," he proclaimed, "is God's gift. Hold it high in regard." He thanked God for the gift and made fire his altar. He held a great feast. Every person sang, danced, drank, and feasted around the bonfire. For the first time, Hushang and his people could light their dark caves and feel cozy and warm in their beds. They passed a wonderful winter. Hushang never forgot his revolutionary discovery. He held a great feast every year on that eventful day. It is called "Sadeh."
He was the first to separate iron from ore and established the profession of smithery. He fashioned axes, saws, and adzes. Next, he diverted water from rivers into plains for cultivation. Prior to this human beings sub-sisted on fruits and covered themselves with leaves. Furthermore, Hushang separated the beasts which were hunted from those that could easily be domesticated. He introduced soft and comfortable furs as clothing.
Hushang's reign introduced peace, prosperity, plenty, and happiness. He died after ruling for forty years."
To put it in short: Fire was accidentally discovered when a flint-axe, thrown by King Hushang to kill a snake, missed and struck a rock and threw a spark. That sparked the idea to kindle fire by striking two pieces of flint together. This theory is confirmed by archeologists to be the most probable means of its discovery in the early stone stage.
Hushang, the Iranian legend says, celebrated the discovery by throwing a feast, a feast that has been kept alive through ages. It is held every year on 10 Bahman (30 January), almost mid-winter. It is called "Sadeh," meaning "century" because according to one popular tradition, it falls on the hundredth day from 21 October, the beginning of winter among ancient Iranians. Or, as I see it, it is the contracted form of the Avestan "saredha," Persian "sard," meaning "cold, winter."
On that afternoon, people gather outside their town, make a hill of dry shrubs, bushes, weeds, and branches. Priests lead the prayers, exalting fire as the divine light, warmth, and energy, ask God for an ever-progressing life to eternal happiness, and as the sun sets in the blazing west, set the hill ablaze. It is a sight to watch huge leaping flames. Those at home light little bonfires on top of their flat mud-plastered "fire-safe" roofs -- a tribute to the civilized blessings given by the discovery of kindling fire.
Venerating Fire
At a time when man was hunted and haunted, he discovered fire and that changed his whole pattern of life. No wonder the blazing fire soon became the object of veneration, especially when his imagination formed for him many forms of deities. Fire became a deity too, a deity too close and touching. The sky god was sky high, the earth goddess was earth wide, the wind god was blowing across, the sun god/goddess was travel-ing light, the moon god was waxing to wane, and the water goddess was streaming by.
Fire was the only deity that sat very cozy and close. It held a special position. It was kindled with care and was kept alive with more care. It gave light. It gave heat. It gave power. It turned night into day and winter into spring. It baked clay into pots, and smelted metal into instruments. It frightened away dangerous animals, and above all, it made the daily food tender and tasty. It had revolutionized human living. It required constant attention, and attention means attraction and affection. It became "spe-cial." It had a special seat, the hearth. It became the center of his activities -- cooking, eating, conversing, sleeping, and of course, receiving his homage. Moreover, it went up the sky in a smoke column. The fire god had contact with the gods and goddesses above and men and women below. He was the intermediary, and the hearth became the altar, the earliest altar. All the gifts presented to deity and deities -- animal fat and flesh, grains, food, sweet smelling herbs and wood -- were put to burn and rise in smoke to reach the deity/deities. It was a smoky, smelly offer!
Ever-burning
Kindling fire by striking flints or rubbing sticks was no easy job. It was much easier to keep it burning. Man learned that fire can snugly sleep beneath ashes and arise glowing when blown in flames. The habit of keeping fire "alive" through sleeping and leaping became a habit. Habit forms tradition. The hearth fire and later the temple fire became an ever-burning fire. Tradition becomes sacred. Sacredness demands ritual. Ritual becomes elaborate. Once sanctified and ritualized, even when well out-dated and fossilized, a tradition cannot be easily abandoned by conserva-tives.
Match sticks and gas and electric lighters have put out the hearth fire, and yet I know in Iran there are still old ladies, Zoroastrians and Muslims, whose hearth fire is never extinguished. My mother and mother-in-law, one from Kerman and the other from Shiraz, 300 miles apart, had the hearth fire going as long as they lived. If this could be with homes, what should one expect from places of worship?
Fire has served as the altar, the illuminating light, for many religions. Fire, in form of candid candle, lighted lamp, burning incense, and blazing wood, still adorns prayer niches, rooms and halls all over the world.
Fire Altars and Temples
Hearth fire is venerated in the Atash Nyayesh in the Later Avesta. This is the earliest form of it and it formed the altar for all domestic rituals. The Haptanghaiti in the Gathic dialect mentions "fire-enclosure" as a commu-nal altar. Median and Ach aemenian bas-reliefs show persons standing, with uplifted arms" in the Gathic fashion, in front of fire altars. Plinths at Pasargadae confirm the "fire-enclosure," the Gathic communal fire altars. Open fire altars survive at Naqsh-e Rostam from Sassanian days too. Avestan texts speaks of no fire-temple or fire-house. It did not exist in those days.
Temple is an Elamite and Babylon gift to Median and Persian Zoroastri-ans. Parthians and Sassanians followed with increasing elaborations. Ruins of Zoroastrian fire-temples of pre-Islamic era are spread from Iraq to the Pamirs and beyond. I have visited, lit a candle and prayed at many, including the one on the Kharg Island in the Persian Gulf and those in Persepolis, Naqsh-e Rostam, Pasargadae, Isfahan, Khuzistan, Azerbaijan in Iran, and Taxila in Pakistan. Various grades of fire-temple are also the evolution of elaborating the system. Atash Bahram, the Victory Fire, at present the highest consecrated temple is a Sassanian innovation. When Ardeshir Babakan, the founder of the dynasty, rose against the Parthian rule and won a victory against Vologeses V in 224 CE, he had to fight many a battle to conquer the vast empire. Wherever and whenever, scored a victory over his enemies, he would erect one "Victory Fire" temple in memory.
History books written by Muslim travelers speak of fire-temples "miracu-lously" lit without being fed by any firewood. They were in the oil-rich regions, from present day Khuzistan in Iran to Azerbaijan in the former Soviet Union. They were fed by natural gas harnessed by the experts in those days. The one in Baku has been reconstructed by the authorities there and has the gas fire on. The gas-fed Azar Goshnasb temple in Azerbaijan, Iran, was where the Sassanian emperors were crowned. Recent excavations have revealed the baked clay pipeline to the fire-altar. This makes the present gas-fed fire altars in North America as no innova-tion but following the past in modern times. It is less air polluting and does not devour firewood and therefore plays no part in deforestation.
Once installed in a temple, it became a tradition. That tradition continues. I would add that it should continue with modern modifications. Already a number of "prayer rooms" and "Dar-e Mehrs" in North America and Europe -- and it includes the Zarathushtrian Assembly prayer hall -- are lit by natural gas.
The Sassanians had two other major fire-temples. Azar Farnbagh, for the Priestly class, was in Nishabur, Khorassan, northeast Iran, and Azar Borzin, for the Agricultural and Industrious class, was in Darab, Pars, south Iran.
Incidentally, the domed Muslim mosque is the continuation of the Sassanian architecture of fire-temple. The dome stood above the fire-altar. All that the Arabs or Iranian converts to Islam had to do is to remove the altar and prepare the hall for their prayers. Some of the old former fire-temples, turned into congregational mosques still have the fire-altars placed in their jars and filled with water. The domed building is not an Arabian architecture at all.
Fire in the Gathas
Fire has been used eight times in the Gathas. It is mental (Songs 4.3 and 12.6), the radiant light (4.19 and 16.9), the warmth (8.4), and full-of-energy (7:4), which helps good and evil people to find happiness. It helps to meditate in quest of righteousness (8.9) and to enlighten one's mind to find means to ward off danger (11.7).
The Gathic Fire symbolizes the Divine Progressive Mind in human beings. It is the altar that enlightens a meditating mind of a Zarathushtrian. Facing it, a Zarathushtrian wishes to forge an ideal society. Here are two brief prayers, one in the Haptanghaiti and the other from Atash Nyâyesh (Fire Prayer) in the Avesta. They explain fire's symbolism and depict the society a Zarathushtrian wants the world to enjoy:
"In this fire-enclosure, first of all, we approach You and You alone, Wise God, through the most progressive mentality, symbolized by Fire -- right, warm and energetic. Reverence to it, because You have appointed for reverence.
Fire, you belong to God Wise. You symbolize the most progressive mentality. This is the best of your designations. O Fire of Ahura Mazda, it is because of this that we approach you. (Haptanghaiti, Song 3.1-3)
Grant me, O Fire of Ahura Mazda, prompt welfare, prompt maintenance, prompt living; full welfare, full maintenance, full living; zeal, progress, eloquence, discerning intellect; next, comprehensive, great and lasting knowledge; next, all encompassing courage, steadiness; vigilance, wakeful even at rest; and self-supporting children, able to govern the country, outstanding in assembly, harmonious in growth, and gentle in character, who shall advance our homes, settlements, districts, countries and the world fellowship. (Atash Nyâyesh)
May the Fire of Mazda enlighten our minds!
Walked to Châteaumeilland today ... ran out of cigarettes along the way. Entering the village ... large church ... door open ... bar across the street. Looked at the door to the church ... looked at the bar sign ... the bar won ... felt like a beer. Directed across the street ... building beside the church to enquire about lodging. The gentleman who answered the door (turns out he is the local priest) redirects me to the campground.
He says ten euros a night and you have all you need. On leaving he mentions there is a mass at 6:45 PM about an hour from now ... why did he have to tell me this? Rushed to the campground ... one and a half kilometers ... learned I would be sleeping in a 'caravan' ... small house trailer ... fine accommodation ... drop off my backpack and hurry back into town on time for mass.
Saw the name Gauthier today for the first time in France ... business making skids etc
I have been walking in my shower sandals for the past 12-15 kilometers ... my feet ache ... my whole body aches. Made it on time for mass ... huge church ... the friendly lady from the village before ... met her in the afternoon ... she offered me something to drink and eat ... I declined ... she showed me the way back onto the Camino. Inside the church not hardly any decorations ... 4 statues ... Ste Therese, St Jean D'Arc and Ste Solange ... ST Gervais. Across the other side a statue of Mary with the infant Jesus ... Our lady of the Rosary ... 1st time I see one like this . Wilhelm stays at the same campground ... on bicycle from Holland ... I see him but at the time don't know he is cycling the Camino ... we meet on the Camino the day ... he gets off his bike and walks along with me for a while ... another 1st ...
Christoph ... I live in the system ... not with it ... reminds me of Xavier's comments ... Mother Teresa is his idol ... we talk about Joan of Arc.
Had a delightful conversation with Christoph at the restaurant/bar in the morning. I was kind of discouraged when I entered the bar ... recharged and energetic on leaving. Discussed life ... philosophy etc with Christoph. He tells me he is not religious ... he is obviously a kind and loving person ... tells me he has 2 children ... one of them is handicapped which helps him look at life from a different perspective ... tells me he has an adven-turous spirit and some day hopes to go to Canada ... Quebec ... nearby is Place de resistance ... hmmm.
Long haul today ... only about 22 kilometers ... but seemed difficult. Once again depended on the guide ... indicated a café/bar at ' ' ... about 5 kilometers away. Arrived ... walking with Wilhelm ... no café/bar ... no cigarettes again ... knew leaving the last village that I only had a few cigarettes ... decided not to walk into town to get some ... now I would have to pay again! ... no breakfast either ... left town without buying anything. Had a banana and yogurt before coffee ... YUK ... I don't even like yogurt!
4 yogurt ... left 2 behind ... spilled the milk in my bag
Heard a horn blaring ... the long blare ... the kind the 'mobile patisseries' make ... wow!! ... my breakfast has arrived! ... Walk fast in the direction of the sound ... want to get there before the individual leaves ... buy a croissant and home made cake. I learn it is a very expensive homemade cake ... five euros! ... some kind of fruit cake ... what a blessing! ... don't know how I would have walked the next 15 kilometers without the croissant and the cake.
Wilhelm ... strange thought last night ... what if Hitler had won the war? response from Christoph in AM when I mention Joan of Arc may have changed course of history.
Chatre is unfriendly ... at least many of the people I approach on arrival are quite unfriendly. Find the Auberge de Jeunesse ... same reception ... complet ... no place to sleep ... I enquire about sleeping on the floor ... no way! ... impossible! I leave ... thinking to myself ... I somehow ex-pected this ... no need to be surprised or disappointed.
What now! ... back to the friendly lady at the school to ask about the location of the local priest ... she had asked me when we met the first time if I was looking for the priest ... at the time I replied ... non... turns out I was after all
Found the rectory ... the gentleman called the priest and I was directed to the l'abrit de nuit ... had no idea what this was ... oh well!
Learned not every church has a statue of Ste Therese
Better than l'auberge de jeunesse! ... had the place all to myself ... the gentleman who manages the place lives upstairs and he left me to myself all night! ... and it was free to boot!
Off to Neuvy-Saint-Sepulchre
I'm in Sarzay ... saw it on the map ... said no way I am going there ... it's one and a half kilometers off the route ... coffee is not that important ... and here I am. After a couple of kilometers I was confused as to which direction to go ... was at a T intersection ... gentleman with a bike talked me into walking via Sarzay ... wrestled with the decision for a bit ... why not? ... arrived in Sarzay ... bar is open ... can you believe it ... didn't even go to the bar ... no coffee ... sat in the shade in front of the church and had my breakfast ... oh ... how I enjoyed the cheese and bread and grape drink ... left over from supper last night ... tastes so good!
Said to myself on the way in ... last kilometers or so ... I have a good feeling about this place ... not like Le Chatre ... and wow!
13th century fortress/home here
Lots and lots of cars around ... on the way in I thought the people were at mass! ... nope ... too many cars for the tiny church ... which was locked up anyway. Learned that the cars were owned by people who have a new Sunday morning ritual ... how new who knows ... the people drive to a village and than go for a 20-25 kilometers walk ... each Sunday ... a new village ... hmmm
Sounds interesting ... 150 or so cars parked in this tiny village ... 2-4 people per car ... hmmm ... 400 or so people ... mostly older folks ... very nice view ... valley and hills.
Sit on a bench in Archers ... a tiny hamlet with several pottery galleries ... seems pottery crafts people live here ... how long? As I am walking through the hamlet I remember the biblical parable ... the 'potter' and the clay ... a parable that challenges the mainstream belief that we are in control of our own destiny ... reflect on this for a while.
I subscribe to the belief that we are not in control of our destiny after conception ... perhaps before ... not after.
Seems I was given a small 'proof' of my reflections ... got lost ... intended to stay on the 'route' ... come to a 'yield' sign ... think to myself ... this is not good ... there should not be a yield sign here ... this is definitely not good!
Yup! ... I'm lost ... check the map ... learn where I am ... I learn it is a couple of kilometers back to the 'route' ... no way! ... I'm too tired ... the road I am on now goes in almost a straight line directly into ' ' a major route though ... big trucks ... lots of traffic ... too bad ... I'm not walking 2-3 kilometers extra just to say I stayed on the route ... since when have I ever persistently followed any prescribed route ... literally or otherwise!
Also on the bench I think to myself ... maybe I haven't been pushing myself hard enough ... not tired enough ... be careful what you ask for! ... I had to walk 12 kilometers non stop! ... when I arrived ... 3 kilometers or so extra ... to get to mass ... OK ... I thought to myself ... I hear you ... now I am tired enough!
Back to reflections on fire ... some relative was probably throwing a stone at some wild animal ... during the night ... the stone ricochet off another stone ... the collision created a spark ... which could be seen in the dark and voila! ... from this point to 'fire' was likely not too long a way. How 'fire' transformed the lives of the human species ... what a milestone evolution/transformation ... profound ... unimaginable
What would man do with this new capability ... one thing is sure ... man did not stop with the 'good' fire could do for mankind ... he kept going and discovered the 'bad' fire could do ... weapons etc
The knowledge of the tree of good and evil ... all knowledge is good ... seems we simply cannot find the line between good and evil ... we always seem to cross over ... e.g. Einstein ... theory of relativity ... the good technology from this ... and also the bad ... the nuclear bomb!
Found the prescribed route again ... followed it to ' ' St Sepulchre ... great coffee on arrival ... rested about 40 minutes ... found the 'gite'
Au Palais de la Vieille Route ... Wow!! ... 5 star accommodation for a pilgrim at a zero star price ... 10 euros to sleep ... 2.5 euros for breakfast ... the kind lady brought me everything I need for breakfast ... coffee ... just have to figure out how to make it ... box of milk ... 2 varieties of jam ... some bread ...piece of cake ... an apple ... some butter and 2 energy bars(for the road tomorrow) What a treat!
I asked the lady about the place ... curious because of the name ... she told me the old 'route' passed beside this building ... that the building was likely a stable for horses ... converted now to a 'gite' ... 10 beds up in the loft ... pristine!
Washroom facilities and a shower ... lower floor a large room ... large table ... large kitchen ... fully equipped. At the moment I have the entire place to myself ... what a bonus! I think several people are supposed to show up to sleep ... parents of some kids here for sports.
I'm outside now ... sitting in the garden area ... nice outdoor table and chairs ... what a treat!
Today has been full of surprises ... the gentleman this morning who directed me off the prescribed route so I would pass through Sarzay ... maybe now I know why I passed through Sarzay ... the fortress I men-tioned earlier was built at the beginning of the 100 year war ... Joan of Arc time ... the time it took the French to finally defeat the British on all French soil.
"Bati pour faire face aux empietements des Anglais pendant la guerre de Cent Ans (fin XIViem, debut XVieme siecle) Jehan de Barbancois, petit fils de Guillaume de barbancois liberateur de la Chatre(1360) ... in the family until 1720. Yesterday in la Chatre I kept seeing the name George Sand ... this morning while waiting for the café to open the window of a book store was 20 meters or so from where I was sitting and the entire window was filled with books about George Sand and I remember the title of one book ... George Sand & Jesus
Small plaque on building ... Ecole Jean D'Arc ... George Sand museum in La Chatre
2004 is the 200th anniversary of her birth ... July 1st ... yah ... her birth ... all day yesterday I pondered the name George Sand ... didn't sound very French ... thought to myself ... maybe I should try and find out who this George Sand was ... booklet at this gite has a brief summary of her life ... born Amantine Aurore Lucile Dupin de Francueil.
Daughter of a farmer ... her dad died in an accident and she was raised by her grandmother at Nohant. Her grandmother died when she was 17 and she inherited her grandmother's estate ... more than 200 hectares of land ... some estate eh! ... and what was I reflecting on yesterday ... we create our own destiny ... seems to me some unpredictable and external circum-stances were at work here ... Divine Providence?
George Sand was her pen name ... Theophile Gauthier ... La Mare au Diable ... Chopin was her guest for a while at the time ... daughter named Solange
Apparently she named the region ... "Vallee Noire" ... the name still holds today "Toutes les hauteurs sont boisees, c'est ce qui donne a nos lointains cette belle coleur bleu, qui devient violette et quasi noire dans les jours orageux"
"Leilia" "Mauprat" dans lesquelles eclatent sescris de revoltes contre les entraves de la societe"
"La chambre bleu, dans laquelle elle s'eteignit le 8 Juin 1876 en murmurant ces derniers mots qui restent encore un mystere ... "Laissez verdure ... "
I must do some more research on this lady ... seems her 'spirit' appeals to me.
Went for a visit to the basilica ... WOW! ... what a church. On several occasions on the walk here I tried to figure out who this St Sepulcher could be ... the word Sepulcher rang a bell ... think we have the same word in English ... must look up the definition ... think it has something to do with a 'tomb' or burial place.
Anyway the plaque describing the basilica answered my questions ... someone who had just returned from a pilgrimage to Jerusalem built the original structure and modeled it after the Holy Sepulcher in Jerusalem ... connecting the dots! ... Yikes!!
No mass today ... a bit disappointed ... nice quiet visit at the church. Sitting at one of the altars I'm thinking to myself ... there is a statue of Our Lady of Lourdes ... no statue of Ste Therese ... hmmm ... than I notice the altar candles that are burning at this altar ... yup ... they still use real candles in France ... pity they have been replaced with electric candles in Canada.
Anyway, at the bottom of these candles is an image of Ste Therese ... hmmm I say to myself ... no statue ... but candles with her image ... hmmm I get up and turn around to leave ... a different route than the one I took here , and there it is ... a large statue of Ste Therese ... yikes!
Also a statue of St James the Major ... 1st one I've seen ... I think
At the other altar I visited there is a prayer written by St Ignacio’s of Loyola ... more connecting of the dots ... Yikes! ... this gives me goose bumps. I want time to stand still for a while ... seems I would like to absorb all that has happened today and this town is very appealing ... it's Sunday so it is quiet.
Almost completed this book ... must buy a new one tomorrow ... earlier today I thought maybe my appetite for writing was quenched ... maybe I have exhausted myself by writing so much in the past 10 days or so. Now I am not so sure ... maybe the spirit of George Sand is re-energizing the tongue of my pen as St Augustine would say ... write.
Ate a piece of my cake ... the expensive one I bought yesterday! Today I have a knife to cut it with ... a plate to put it on ... and a fork to eat it with ... civilization is not so bad!
Last page ... sun is setting ... so calm ... so peaceful ... seems even more 'connecting dots' and quite intriguing I head out for another coffee ... not that I need yet another coffee today! ... this one is to celebrate ... I feel like celebrating the events of the last couple of hours ... even left my laundry soaking in the sink.
As I am walking up town ... 200-300 meters away ... I am thinking I should go to the same bar I went to this afternoon ... sense of loyalty ... obligation ... the lady was very kind. As I approached the bar I see another one across the street called Bar George Sand.
I feel drawn to this bar ... what to do about the guilt associated with not returning to the kind lady? So much for customer loyalty ... I head to the other bar ... just before reaching my destination I glance over to the bar my conscience tells me I should be visiting ... it's closed! ... aha! ... no more guilt.
I'm in for a treat at this bar ... 1st don't see any coffee machine ... oh oh! ... I will get this mornings' coffee ... Yuk! Coffee was actually quite tasty ... served in a very unusual container. I enquired ... a Mazagran ... my grandmother bought them a long time ago ... because we have no coffee machine ... hmmm
Where I am sitting I am looking straight at a statue in the plaza ... go for a closer look ... Cleopatra holding up a lamp ... hmmm ... more dots ... Babylon ... Alexandria ... WWW
Caesar ... Alexander the Great ... Roman Empire ... too much!! ... statue dedicated to parents ... what an afternoon!!
June 8, 2004 In Pommiers - Chez "Tito"
First page of my new scribbler ... bought it in Neuvy day before yester-day. Seems I can't get enough of Neuvy Saint Sepulchre ... left here in the morning ... with an agenda ... I had a plan!
I would have an easy day ... walk to Cluis ... only 9 kilometers ... stay at the Pilgrim's refuge (Vezelay) and enjoy a quiet restful afternoon ... see I am in control of my destiny and this is what I chose ... my choices! ... my plan!
So much for planning ... I arrive in Cluis ... sit in the shade at the Chapel ... Our Lady of the Holy Trinity ... just missed the annual procession ... was yesterday ... church is locked. After a short rest I finish the days' walk by heading into town ... remember that I have to get some money ... I'm down to a bit of change ... see a sign I recognize ... a bank sign ... this is good. omen at the same time my 'inner voice' is saying ... just because there is a bank ... doesn't mean there is an outdoor cash machine.
Turns out my 'inner voice' was right again ... confirmed the bad news at the local bar. Oh oh! ... oh well ... counted my coins ... enough for a draft beer and a coffee in the morning ... and in my pocket I have a full package of cigarettes. Thinking the refuge won't cost anything for sleeping ... box of soup in my backpack ... small piece of bread and the rest of my 'homemade cake' ... who could ask for more! I'll be fine.
Within the next few minutes ... after finishing my beer ... I learn the refuge is not finished yet ... i.e. ... not open ... and worse yet ... no bank machine … not even in the next village Gargiesse ... about 14 kilometers ... Yikes!!
Hung around the 'gite' in the morning ... waiting for laundry to dry ... enjoy the garden ... the calm. .... Gaultier ... Gaul... ?
So much for feeling fine ... what now? The lady at the bar suggests I go down the street and enquire at the home of the lady in charge of the Pilgrim's Refuge ... seems like a good idea. She walks me to the street and points in the direction of the home ... I think she says the large house with the 'blue' window shutters. I arrive chez Mme Ampeau and ring the doorbell ... I notice on the tag just below the bell the names Ampeau - Gauthier.
Needless to say I find this intriguing and exciting ... a day or so ago I see the name Gauthier for the first time ... in France ... the sawmill at La Chatre and here I am ringing the doorbell of a "Gauthier". I learn that Mme Ampeau's maiden name is Gauthier ... her family has lived in town for more than 100 years. She asks me if I spell Gauthier with an 'H' ... Gauthier vs Gautier. I remember seeing the name 'Gautier' in the booklet I was reading at the gite ... the synopsis of the life of George Sand ... hmmm!
Mme Ampeau is very kind and generous ... she apologized about the refuge not being ready and than launches into an alternative ... there is a Chambres d'Hotes in the village and pilgrims can stay there for 10 euros including breakfast. I sheepishly explain to Mme Ampeau that I have one more little problem ... I have no money! ... her face manifests a look of ... Oh! Oh!
What now? ... she spends a few seconds mentally searching for a solution to my money problem ... suggests perhaps one of the local business people would advance me a few euros on my credit card ... and than laments that ... today is Monday en plus! ... most local businesses are closed ... including the local bank(both of them).
She suggests the people who run the Chambres d'Hotes may have a credit card machine. She gives me directions to the Chambres d'Hotes ... a right turn than a left turn ... ? ... not very far ... a big house with red window shutters ... seems the color of the window shutters are used to identify homes!
I find the Chambre d'Hotes ... nobody home ... yikes! ... what now? ... no refuge ... no money ... no bank machine here or in the next village!!
So much for my quiet relaxing day!
I meander into the church ... suppose in some way looking for an explanation for the yuky circumstances I find myself in ... a few meters inside the door of the church ... a large white statue of Ste Therese on the left side and a large white statue of Joan of Arc directly across on the right hand side of the church. I can 'feel' my inner self smiling as I gaze at these two statues ... thinking in my mind ... what do you two young ladies have planned for me today? ... what are you up to!!?
My feelings are calm and peaceful ... no panic yet!
I ponder my alternatives ... I am reluctant to go back to Mme Ampeau even though before leaving her house she told me to come back if I had any problems. A few minutes later ... seemed the only option I had was to return to Mme Ampeau ... left my backpack in the church and headed back ... less than 100 meters away.
Another very friendly greeting ... I explained that I found the Chambres d'Hotes but it was closed. Mme Ampeau seemed puzzled ... decided to escort me personally to the Chambre d'Hotes ... suppose she figure I somehow missed finding the correct entrance. She walks with me to the Chambre d'Hotes ... indicates the proper entrance and confirms with me ... yup! ... it's closed.
She enquires of a construction worker who is working on the street beside the Chambre d'Hotes ... seems he hasn't seen anyone today ... she men-tions that it was open yesterday ... hmmm ... the universe conspiring against me?
We walk back to Mme Ampeau's ... seems she has worked out a solution in her mind ... she tells me I can sleep at her house ... she has choir practice in Neuvy in the evening and I can come along with her to Neuvy and solve my 'no money problem' ... there is a bank machine in Neuvy ... I had seen it in the morning and when I saw it I remembered that I had very little money in my pocket ... yet ... I walked right past the machine confident there would be another bank machine in the next village (Cluis) ... seems I still have not learned the lesson of 'being practical'.
Yet ... had I been practical ... I would have missed all that has happened as a result of my encounter with Mme Ampeau ... and for me ... a lot has happened!!
Mme Ampeau also mentioned that she planned to attend a community event at the church ... Our lady of the Holy Trinity ... the place I stopped at on the way into town. I learned they have a long standing tradition in this village ... a procession on the Feast of the Holy Trinity June 6th (D-Day Normandy) and a community gathering the next day ... where they play this ancient game ... drink a lot of wine and eat some special local pastry.
She invited me along ... arrived at her car ... parked on the street behind the house ... the button to open the doors wouldn't work ... turns out her battery is dead ... Yikes! ... what next?
At that moment her husband comes driving up the street ... Pierre ... she introduces me ... gives Pierre a brief summary of my circumstances ... tells him about her car and voila ... contingency plan ... we will go with Pierre to the community celebration and he will drive us to Neuvy.
I end up joining Pierre and 2 other gentlemen in this ancient game. It's like horseshoes and curling and lawn bowling and bowling ... hmmm Pierre gives me a coin ... dated 1876 ... he explains (I think) that at that time (1876) there were coins with the same value ... i.e. 5 lire was the same as 5 francs etc. (Foreshadow Euro?)Two sticks in the ground about 5 meters apart ... the objective was to throw the coin attempting to land as close to the stick as possible. I was Pierre's partner ... quite a handicap for him.
The name Rigaud ... I meant City ... Mme Ampeau thought I meant family name.
I was no more athletic ... adept ... at this particular game than I am at any other. On 2 or 3 occasions I hit one of the gentlemen with my coin toss ... We lost 2 games ... badly! Pierre bought me a Perrier ... we sat at the table and they chatted ... I had difficulty understanding the conversation ... difficulty! ... I understood nothing ... maybe this is what George Sand meant when she wrote the language in the villages ... 'villageois' ... each village with their own dialect ... like Italy!
Later we continued our journey into Neuvy ... Pierre directed me to the bank machine ... Mme Ampeau and 2 friends went to their choir practice. The 'cling cling cling' of the bank machine is the sweetest sound in the world when you find yourself in a foreign place with no money!
Reminds me of the experience in Venice a few years ago(another story). Learn that Pierre is the treasurer for the basilica(parish of Neuvy I presume) He has some work to do ... I go for a coffee ... patronize the local bar I avoided the day before ... same kind lady. Returned to the church (building across the street) and read a book while waiting for Pierre and Mme Ampeau.
In this book is a story about the Carmelites in France (Ste Therese is a Carmelite) ... learn that 2004 is the 400th anniversary of their arrival in France ... mentions Ste Therese of Avila and St John of the Cross ... reminded of my experience last year on the Camino ... Ruta de La Plata (Seville to Santiago) ... another story ... wow!! ... more and more 'con-necting the dots' ... so much in this one place ... Neuvy St Sepulchre
Back to the townhouse ... Pierre brings me to their garden ... a few blocks away ... a small paradise ... been in Mme Ampeau's family (Gauthier) for 100 years or so. Pierre has everything in this garden ... a wide variety of fruit trees ... some of which he has 'grafted' to produce unique varieties of fruit ... every conceivable vegetable and a dozen or so sheep pasturing next door. Pierre tells me he had 12 lambs in the spring ... so much work! Pierre is retired and seems he really enjoys his garden.
Today he is working on the wall between the garden and the road ... one of those old stone walls ... part of it fell over and Pierre is fixing it. Learn that Mme Ampeau's given names are Marie Therese ... hmmm ... my inner self smiles again ... the two names that are so often in my mind and in my heart ... the Virgin Mary(Marie) and Ste Therese ... hmmm
Supper, some delightful conversation and off to bed. Learned during supper the meaning of "Laisser Verdure" ... the last words of George Sand ... I had read about this the day before and I was impressed (curi-ous) enough to write them in my notes. (a few thousand words back)
Marie Therese brought out a book about George Sand ... spoke about her a bit(vivant) and when I saw the words "Laissez Verdure" in the book I asked Marie Therese for the meaning of "verdure" ... she pointed to the trees in the garden ... indicating 'greenery' ... now it makes sense ... think the French word for green is 'vert' ... hmmm.
Where is this George Sand encounter going? I reflect on the comments I read the day before ... apparently the French people believe these last two words spoken by George Sand are a 'mystery' ... of course I am intrigued ... and of course ... I want to solve the mystery! ... such arrogance eh! My reflections on the 'mystery' lead me to this conclusion ... 'leave it green' ... leave it full of life ... do not 'burn' it ... do not destroy it ... the 'it' being the earth ... hmmm!
Pierre's story about the 'companions' of Joan of Arc ... the 'emblems' in the church ... the 2 fish ... their family ... one in Orleans etc
Wow! ... Almost 8 pages of notes ... hmmm ... off to Gargilesse ... and hopefully some quiet time to digest all that has happened in the last day or so! Another first ... walked more than 3,000 kilometers of Chemin St Jacques ... Camino Santiago ... and this is the first time I was invited to stay in an individual’s home ... hmmm ... maybe we are related on the Gauthier side.
I'm in Gargilesse ... not sure if I will stay or walk on to the next village Cuzion ... I'll drink my coffee and decide.
Chatted for a few minutes with a couple from England ... planning to retire in this area ... there son is in the Royal Navy stationed in Ports-mouth ... they took the ferry from Portsmouth to Caan ... reminds me of the time I found myself on the ferry from Caan to Portsmouth (another story ... involving Ste Therese of Lisieux).
The English lady was sharing her son's circumstances in Portsmouth ... he can’t afford to buy his first place to live ... living on the ship ... she said ... "he can't get his foot on the first step of the ladder to get started" ... reminds me of Ste Therese's spirituality ... read it in the book I bought in Lisieux several years ago ... her way of explaining 'childlike' faith ... the image of the ladder ... step ladder ... and a toddler ... the toddler's doll or favorite toy on top of the ladder ... the toddler persistently trying to get it's small leg up on the first step of the ladder.
While it is impossible ... the toddler doesn't seem to know that it is impossible and persists! Ste Therese apparently wrote that the 'way to God' is the same ... the goal is noble ... like the toddler ... at the top of the ladder is something highly desirable ... for the toddler ... the doll or the toy ... for the pilgrim ... the seeker ... all those who want to get closer to God ... at the top of the ladder is GOD.
And also like the toddler, in our mortal (human) state it is impossible to get on the first step on the ascent to God ... it is humanly impossible. Ste Therese says we are to persist ... hope ... faith ... not give up and at the appropriate time (God's time) He will stoop down and lift us up onto the first step and so on and so on.
The day I read this little story ... I was struck by the profound truth embedded in the metaphor. Amazing how these 'memories' are percolated to the top of my consciousness by the seemingly trivial experiences and encounters ... hmmm!
Decide to stay in Gargilesse ... accommodation is 5 star ... private room ... fully equipped kitchen ... even a washing machine ... tempted to use it ... the knobs and buttons etc ... too intimidating!
Enleveur S.O.S. spray painted on the pavement ... the 2 snakes courting on the bridge.
The box of soup , the large bread I bought a few days ago ... the night I spent at 'l'abrit de nuit' came in handy tonight. A fully equipped kitchen but no place in town to buy any food ... poop!
Heated the soup, broke the stale bread into pieces and voila ... my supper ... I had the last piece of my expensive homemade cake for desert!
Two pilgrims arrived around 6:00PM ... 2 ladies ... 50+ ... they just left to go to the local restaurant for supper. Realized a few hours ago that my coffee last night in Neuvy ... after I hit the bank machine ... cost me 12 euros ... ouch! ... oh well! I'll think of it as Martial's donation!
Still in George Sand country ... her secondary residence is here ... when I asked the lady at the bar about the house ... she told me she hid her 'lovers' here ... probably was trying to say she would spend some time with her lovers here ... away from the 'fish bowl' ... Nolant ?
Read a bit of St Augustine's "Confessions' tonight ... figured I am carrying the book ... might as well read some! One sentence struck me as very interesting ... "it is not the discovery but the mere search for wisdom which should be preferred even to the discoveries of treasures and to ruling over nations and to the physical delights available to me at a nod ... footnote suggests this sentence is a quotation or at least a paraphrase of Cicero
Also see page 140 ... 'will' ... sounds like Solomon now that I write out the words
Cuzion ... 1/2 litre of apple juice and 2 croissants ... a delicious breakfast
Seems the couple of pages of Augustine's book "Confessions" that I read last night have rekindled my 'itch' to ponder the mysteries of life ... 'search for wisdom'. Another paragraph that I find appealing and intriguing ...Augustine asks himself such vexing questions ... e.g. "What causes this monstrous fact? ... and Why is it so?"
The mind commands the body and is instantly obeyed ... the mind commands itself and meets resistance.
The mind commands the hand to move ... and it is so easy that one hardly distinguishes the order from its' execution. the mind is mind and hand is body. The mind orders the mind to will. The recipient of the order is itself... yet it does not perform the command.
I recall pondering this particular mystery on several occasions during the past few years ... no insight arrived ... no answers ... so here we go again ... I'll have another go at it this morning.
Shortly after leaving Gargilesse I passed a spot along the road where several cows had been recently taken out of the pasture and walked up the road ... to a different pasture. I suppose ... the evidence supporting my statement was the several piles of cow dung on the pavement ... I have been in this particular situation on many occasions while walking the Camino.
This morning my mind went off on a journey. Seems to me the cows when leaving their comfort zone ... the pasture they have been grazing in for who knows how long ... immediately on leaving ... not before and not 50 meters down the road ... seems within a meter or 2 of the exit .. they poop!! ... at least seems many of them do ... judging from the number of poop piles.
This morning I ask why? Are they nervous or anxious about what lies ahead ... are they frightened? ... do they somehow know that they may be on their way to the slaughter house ... or is it simply a case of 'nervous stomach' resulting from moving from the 'known' ... their familiar pasture and grazing area ... to the 'unknown' ... that 'dark night' ... who knows? ... who cares? ... life is useless ... it's like chasing the wind
Seems my investigation is not done yet ... the above thoughts now on 'centre stage' of my mind invoke another curiosity ... are there parallels between the actions of the cows described above and the actions of the 2 legged animal species referred to as 'humans'.
My 'inner self' smiles and nods in agreement. We too are comfortable with the 'status quo' ... with the familiar ... being penned or fenced in by our culture ... our society ... our government ...
Seems we have a reluctance to venture outside of the 'familiar' and if it were forced ... physically ... emotionally ... or otherwise ... beyond the frontiers of the 'familiarity' ... we too become nervous or anxious ... intimidated by the 'unknown' ... the uncertainty ... the 'dark night' ... reminds me of St John of the Cross's book ... The Dark Night of the Soul
Of course, not all of us react the same ... just as not all of the cows pooped a few steps outside of the pasture ... some of us are the exact opposite ... we feel stifled by life in the 'familiar' bound by the borders or fence of our society. we can't wait to 'get out' ... some of us escape with drugs ... alcohol ... work etc some with 'creativity' ... artists of all kinds ... musicians ... painters ... writers etc
So ... what's the point of all this? ... I don't know! After all it was only several piles of cow dung on the road!
Maybe these thoughts are connected to the notion of 'will' described by Augustine. The expression 'will power' has tickled my mind on several occasions ... the word 'power' and all its' intended meanings side by side with the word 'will'.
The expression seems to infer ... determination ... tenacity ... staying power ... stick to it iveness ... something like the chewawa barking ferociously and biting at the pant leg of a large man. The little dog must know that it is physically inferior to the man ... yet ... with relentless 'will' the little dog continues ... and it is very often quite difficult to shake off this little pest ... without hurting him/her of course!
Is this a worthy example of 'will power' or simply a case of doggy foolishness?
So now I have two questions ... Augustine's question concerning 'will' and the question ... what fuel is used to 'power' the will?
People who seem to naturally possess tons of 'will power' tend to believe all people have access to the same degree of 'will power' ... Is this so?
The body and its' limbs seem to respond to exercise, repetitive actions, nutrition etc ... all athletic people clearly demonstrate the correlation between these things and the result ... the most obvious example being our Olympic athletes.
What about our mind? ... do the same principles hold? ... suppose the obvious answer is yes ... to a degree!
However, all the 'will power' in the world ... all the mental determination ... cannot help a paraplegic walk again?
Seems to me the notion of 'will' has some connection to the notion of 'collective unconscious' and 'herd instinct' ... e.g. the will to do what most people do ... to conform to 'life' inside the pen ... to follow the 'flock' as in my sheep philosophy ... in these circumstances the requirement of the 'will' seems too 'small' e.g. Our society conditions us to venerate heroes ... athletic ... political ... creative ... academic ... a resulting 'will' to emulate ... imitate ... or whatever seems a logical conclusion.
What about people like Christopher Columbus and Joan of Arc ... where did their seemingly supernatural 'will' and 'will power' come from? What drove Christopher Columbus to venture out into the 'unknown'? ... voluntarily ... several times ... leaving the pasture of 'familiarity' behind and plunging into a 'night of darkness'.
Seems obvious that the sea/ocean was feared by most people of the day ... Fisterre ... the end of the earth in Spain?
Learned several years ago that Christopher Columbus was scheduled to leave from a certain harbor in Spain. When the time to leave drew near ... he was unable to leave because the Spanish were evicting Jews from Spain in this particular harbor at time ... this was during the period of the inquisition. The writer of the book posed an interesting question ... Columbus's voyages would lead to colonization by several of the European nations ... and this would happen at the same time the Jews were being evicted ... would these new colonies become the new 'homeland' for the Jewish people ?
Back to Joan of Arc ... a young girl ... a young peasant girl ... who would make her way to the leadership of an army ... have an audience with the King of France ... win battles ... lose battles and accept being 'burned at the stake' rather than renounce her source of 'will' and 'will power' ... hmmm.
In the next few thousand steps I started to recite the Lord's prayer ... the Our Father. Remembered that St Teresa of Avila told her nuns they should take one hour to recite the Lord's Prayer ... once!!
St Teresa obviously believed there is so much hidden mystery in this one prayer ... seems logical since it is the only prayer Jesus taught His disciples ... and He taught it to them after they asked him ... Lord teach us to pray.
Today I thought I would examine the prayer from the perspective "Jesus was the first human being to have a conscious recollection of where He came from ... and likely the only human being with this conscious recollection ... see earlier notes
Paraphrasing ... Jesus said to His disciples ... I come from my Father ... my Father sent Me ... so let's look at the first few words of the prayer .
Our Father
In Heaven ... what is meant by the word 'heaven'? ... that dimension of space or being that cannot be defined or described in human terms. Change this word to 'Spirit' and seems to me we have not lost anything and perhaps can gain much. e.g. we are told in genesis that we are created in God's image and likeness ... with God as 'Spirit' ... the above statement seems much more credible.
Winston Churchill ... "we are spirits wrapped in human flesh"
Hallowed Be Thy Name
Father Charlie who I met in Bracebridge helped me with this notion of 'name'. In conversation one day about the mysterious capabilities of some people in India Father Charlie stated ... they have obviously found a way to tap into a 'higher' source of energy ... we Christians have a 'name' for this 'higher source' of energy ... Jesus ... hmmm.
Also seems I have spent considerable time contemplating the notion of 'our name'. The instructor of a Dale Carnegie course stated several years ago that the sound of our name is the sweetest sound in the world to us. this statement seems to have some merit.
Our 'name' also seems to have a shelf life that is much longer than our physical life ... for some at least ... again let's look at the names Christopher Columbus and Joan of Arc ... so much is associated with and recalled simply by vocalizing the letters that construct the name. What a mystery!
Seems our name is often our legacy ... that part of us ... while not a part of our physical being ... that lives on long after we have breathed our last breath.
Thy Kingdom .... a place ... a dimension in space
Come ... future ... not now
Thy Will ... here we go again with the word 'will'. when I got here ... the thoughts of this morning seemed to crystallize ... not sure how or in what way ... perhaps later?
Be Done
On Earth as it is in Heaven
The word heaven again. Change the word earth to flesh and the word heaven to spirit and we get ... "In the flesh as it is in the spirit" ... seems to me this is the crux of all Christian teaching. The persistent and endless struggle between our two natures (vilification) ... written about by so many people for so many years and yet still persists. What role has 'will' in this struggle?
I'm now in the church in Eguzon ... decided to come here while drinking my coffee across the street ... my motivation (more on this word motivation later) was to cool off ... it is so hot today ... my T shirt is drenched ... I put on a dry one.
Asked about internet availability ... at library at 3:30 ... decide to wait around
On entering the church my eyes wander over to the left side of the church where there is a large bulletin board heavily populated with posters. The first one I gaze on is a large picture of Ste Therese with the words ... "Je voudrais parcourir la terre en announcer l'Evangile" ... the same words as in the cover of the booklet I purchased in St Pierre ... moving! The second one titled "Les Equipes du Rosaire
Venez et prions ensemble
Toi qui cherches
Toi qui doutes
Toi qui es seul
Toi qui est malade
Toi qui es bien-portant
Toi qui es jeune ou mois jeune
Toi qui pries ...
Tous
Nous avons besoin de toi
pour trouver, pour parteger
et rayonner
de la Vie de Celui
qui est toujours avec nous
le Christ
En Priant avec Marie, sa Mere
qui a cherche, qui a souffert
qui a cru, qui nous aide
Third one Annee du Rosaire ... Une ecole de priere des Equipes Un Pelerinage avec les Domtricains
My 3 lady friends are in left front alter ... Our Lady of Lourdes Ste Therese and Joan of Arc
Seems this notion of 'will' will power, collective conscious, herd instinct and voila a new term 'collective will' is a 'biggy' a real 'biggy'
I may never understand how it works but like Augustine or Cicero wrote a long long time ago ... the search for wisdom ... the search itself ... without discovery is exciting ... for me today anyway! ... today!!
Seems much of my meditation/reflection during the past 2-3 kilometers is in some way confirmed by the words in the posters ... maybe I really am crazy!!
The word motivation popped into my head several thousand paces ago ... remember the definition in a book used for a course I took on organizational behaviour ... today seems to me the course would be better served with a title ... behavioural manipulation in organizations!!
The formula for motivation ... see everything can or needs to be reduced to 'mathematical proof' to be true
Motivation = Valence X Expectation ... where valence means the preference for one outcome versus another and expectation represents the likelihood (probability)of a successful outcome ... i.e. the preferred outcome.
My motivation for coming into the church for example ... I preferred a 'cool' ... very cool location to a 'hot' one. From experience I knew that most big old churches are quite cool inside.
et voila ... my motivation was very strong and here I am ... enjoying the 'cool' and to a lesser degree ... the ???? of being in a church.
Seemed to me that the notion of motivation is somehow related to the notion of 'will' ... they seem to go hand in hand ... strong motivation ... strong will ... strong will ... the manifestation of 'will power' ... that energy that transforms will into 'action'.
Seems I want to explore the term 'collective will'. Perhaps this expression has the same attributes and characteristics as those described by Carl Jung when he introduced the expression "Collective Unconscious" ... perhaps only a subset
One of the examples of 'collective will' that came to mind just before coming into the church was a sports team ... e.g. a hockey team ... ideally each member of the team embraces the 'will' of the team ... to win hockey games or maybe simply ... to make lots of money. Thus the connection ... Une Ecole de Priere ... Des Equipes
The 'will' of the team ... the team has no life ... in and of itself ... it is simply a word that is intended to portray a group of persons with a 'common goal' ... a 'collective will' ... seems the 'common goal' or collective will is determined external to the participants of the team e.g. the poster ... the Toronto Maple Leafs ... individuals who seek membership or participation on the team ... it would seem have somehow gained knowledge of the team's 'will' and are willing to subscribe ... have entered into the 'motivation' stage ... while the individual 'valence' may be some-what different for each member the collective valence or collective will is intended to be 'one'.
Can an individual 'will' exist outside of the 'collective will'? Seems not ... at least in the case of the human species ... we are social beings ... being alone is painful for most.
Perhaps those who are 'disconnected' from the 'collective will' are those who suffer from the various forms of central nervous system disorders ... depression in all its' forms. The 'disconnection' deprives the individual of the power ... the energy ... the force supplied by the 'collective will' ... the individual who finds themselves disconnected ... finds themselves in a big black hole ... no light ... only darkness ...hmmm ... the common story of those who suffer from depression.
In this state there is also an absence of 'will power' the power ... the energy required to act ... one friend told me that in this state he could not muster the energy to reach into the back of the fridge to grab a can of coke ... what an effect this 'disconnect' can have eh!!
Voluntary disconnection ... can it exist?? Perhaps … resulting from our discomfort with our place in the world … our parents, siblings, friends or perhaps lack of friends … lack of a connection with people who share our ‘World View’
Manipulation of the 'collective will' ... is this possible ... of course ... it's called politics, religion, heroism, culture, society etc
How so? 'Will' is in the mind, therefore manipulation requires some form of 'mind control' ... mental conditioning ... mental programming ...
Not such a bad thing ... we are likely able to live in a civilized ... quasi civilized anyway ... society where it is safe to pursue our own interests ... providing our individual interests do not extend beyond the boundaries defined by the 'collective will' of our society.
June 11, 2004 Benevant
Been a couple of days since I put down my pen. I have had time to put my thoughts ... those thoughts written on the previous few pages ... enough time to put them (my thoughts) through a few 'wash cycles' and if that wasn't enough ... I had some hot ... very hot sun to 'burn off' any remaining 'impurities'. The notion of 'collective will' remains with me ... with yet more conviction ... "where two or more are gathered in my name ... I will be there" ... collective will.
Now to the chronological review of the events of the last couple of days ... those I remember. I had a very difficult day ... going into Crozon ... the same day the notion of 'collective will' tickled my mind. I got lost a couple of times ... doubled back ... hot sun ... tired .... yuk!
I arrived at the Hotel des Ruins ... coffee time ... Marie Hélène and Francoise show up in the bar ... they sleep in the hotel.
Hotel was too expensive even with the 'pilgrim' discount.
Leaving the bar I head in the wrong direction again ... down the hill ... looking back I see a sign that indicates an 'Auberge' ... 100 meters ... Crozon ... now this sign is for people going in the opposite direction ... oops ... seems I am going the wrong way again ... where the ??? is the village.
Fortunately two gentlemen were fishing off the bridge and they con-firmed my 'suspicion' ... the village is in the opposite direction ... yuk! ... back up the hill ... yuk!
Arrive in the village convinced I will be spending the night under the stars ... Yup ... spent the night on the grass around the back of the church. Wandered around the village looking for a boulangerie to buy some grub ... nada except this store ... like a general store ... an old lady sitting in a chair ... seems she has a little of everything ... though seems the turnover is a bit slow ... stuff does not appear very fresh. I ask about a box of juice ... suppose the word 'boite de jus' doesn't mean a box of juice.
She picks up a can of pop ... I ask for a litre of juice ... she goes around the corner and comes up with a one litre jar of orange juice ... perfect. I check my pockets for money ... I have 1.20 Euros ... the jar of juice costs 1.50 Euros. My backpack is back behind the church ... only 100 meters or so. I try to explain to the lady that I will be back in a minute with the money ... she nods in agreement.
On my return, just as I am approaching the store I see this very old car pulling out with a little old lady driving ... I think to myself ...oh no! my orange juice! ... Yup ... store is closed. I look through the window and I see my orange juice is still sitting on the counter ...Yuk! ... it is going to be a long night with nothing to eat ... not completely true ... I have a piece of brownie that I bought in ' '
Back to my grass bed ... see a public WC (washroom) ... things are looking up! I wonder if there is running water in the WC? I decide to check it out ... if not I better hustle over to the bar ... maybe buy another coffee and have my water bottle filled. WC has running water ... and toilets too! ... Perfect. Change my mind about the coffee and do not go to the bar. In the next day or so found out from a Belgian Pilgrim that bed and breakfast was available in this bar for 23 Euros ... seems I was destined to sleep outside !
Bed roll out ... I lay down to rest ... couple of young boys show up ... out of sight but not out of 'hearing range' ... they stay for an hour or so ... I’m a little disappointed ... I want to try to get to sleep ... a bit sheepish ... I'm looking directly at a sign that reads "no camping in town except in the Municipal Park ... what if I am caught camping here on the grass?? Young boys leave ... a couple show up (man and a woman) ... oh no! ... how long will they hang around??
I decide to prepare for the night anyway ... change my clothes and stretch out under my sleeping bag. The couple leaves in 30-45 minutes ... great ... now I can get to sleep ... nope! ... I would spend the next couple of hours gazing at the stars ... reflecting on the day and my thoughts. Not particu-larly uncomfortable ... simply wide awake ... hmmm.
Eventually get to sleep ... up around 7:30 AM or so .. still tired ... go looking for my morning coffee ... hoping the bar is open ... nope! ... Yuk!. The old lady in the store shows up ... decide to ask her about what time the bar will open. She explains that she had to leave in a hurry the night before and she seems quite apologetic about my 'orange juice' ... she says the bar should open soon and she mentions that there is a place in Souter-raine that caters to pilgrims ... 'Trace de Soeurs'
I make a mental note ... must remember this ... the memory of the night on the grass is still very fresh!! I'm a bit disgruntled ... been up and around for 15-20 minutes ... still no coffee ... Yuk!
On my way back to my patch of grass I remember the Hotel Ruins ... ah! ... of course! ... a hotel ... they must be open to provide breakfast for people who stay at the hotel. I also remember the stairs ... a series of stone steps that lead directly down the hill ... avoid going the long way around ... 500+ meters ... works for me!
Yup the bar is open ... superb! Francoise and Marie Hélène show up ... they have breakfast. Coffee in my stomach ... I am ready for the road ... back to my patch of grass ... retrieve my back pack and 'hit the road.
Much better day ... do not get lost! The way is well marked today. A village kilometers down the road ... box of juice ... multi fruit ... multi vitamin ... bonus! ... and a croissant.
Chat with a farmer ... built from scratch l'homme va a la ruine
Next village ... not really desperate for another coffee ... need some water ... and some rest!!
See a bar that looks open ... walk past ... on the way back to this bar 1-2 minutes later ... I notice another bar down the street. My mind muses over the decision ... which bar?? ... such a luxury!!
I choose the one up the street ... why? ... becomes clear later today.
Coffee ... the lady seems quite friendly ... she brings me her book where she collects short scribblings from the pilgrims ... I write a short note. A few minutes later she mentions Trace de Soeurs ... hmmm ... 2nd time today ... she adds that pilgrims stay for 12 euros ... including supper ... bed and breakfast ... sounds appealing! She even provides directions ... enter through the Porte St Jean ... descendre direction 2ieme Eglise ... juste devant l'Eglise une rue qui s'appelle ???
Turns out the directions were impeccable ... not sure I would have found the place without them ... large enough village and seems this place is not well known.
As I arrive at what I think is the correct door ... the door opens ... some people were just leaving ... I ask ... oui ... le patron est ici .. rentrer ... superb!
Pretre Jean Baptist de la Croix de St Vallier ?? 2ieme Evesque de Quebec Abby de benevant ... take the $ de Abby ... give to Quebec
I didn't realize how fortunate I was until another pilgrim arrived an hour or so later. He had been trying to get in for 45 minutes or so ... he had called several times a few hours earlier ... he was bitter about his experi-ence ... lack of a friendly reception. He had met (for the first time) Francoise and Marie Hélène in town ... apparently they had also made several attempts via telephone and in frustration decided to stay at the hotel ... hmmm
I was provided with explicit instructions on how to find the place ... without asking ... and the door opened by itself the moment I arrived ... hmmm ... the 'price' of not carrying a portable telephone and making arrangements ahead of time ... hmmm
Lucien was very kind with me ... even opened a bottle of his own wine to have with supper ... we dined together ... a hodgepodge salad ... quite OK and a pizza ... very full stomach today ... the 3rd or 4th complete meal since leaving Canada ... Wow!!
After supper Lucien gives us ... me and the other pilgrim ... a tour of the garden and animal shelter and a brief history of the convent ... 250 nuns ... now 3 ... youngest is 72 years old. Stories about how the nuns served in the hot spots during the war and how some walked 40 kilometers a day to provide service to people ... young and old.
Lucien commented ... not every day a pilgrim from Canada ... bugs in my head ... from where???
June 11, 2004
Today turns out to be one of those days filled with 'mystery' ... so much to write ... still at the refuge in Benevant ... must get going ... will write a few details and fill in the rest later ... hopefully this evening.
Mgr Jean Baptiste de Saint Vallier ... Gronoble November 14, 1653 ... Father Jean de la Croix, seigneur de Chevrieres ... mother ... Marie de Sayne ... only daughter of Jacques de Sayne Chevalier, Seigneur de l'Echigny et de Chamblanc.
Luc calls for a large casserole bowl ... we are 5 pilgrims tonight ... Luc, Francoise, Marie Hélène and Hugo from Belgium(Flem) ... otherwise Dr would not likely have come over to the refuge. Decide not to participate in Dr's presentation to the other pilgrims ... he is very passionate about his work (28 years catering to pilgrims)
Met Dr's wife at prayers (rosary) in the church.
Dr showed up ... gave me an hour or so of his time ... a synopsis of his 40 years + of research ... incredible ... absolutely incredible! ... bird is at the window again ... what is the bird trying to tell me? Birds always remind me of St Francis … maybe the birds are telling be to pay attention … something important is about to happen.
The bird knocks on the window pane again and again and again ... hmmm ... this is almost too much to absorb ... I am torn between writing notes about what I just learned and going for a walk ... think I will walk and hopefully my little brain will put what happened in the last 24 hours through a couple of 'wash cycles'
St Augustine ... from St Benoit to St Augustine
New book appeared ... une des principle fonctions des Apotres avait ete de precher et d'evangeliser (Ste Therese) ... une mouvement a convertir les religieux "non moines" en chamoines obeisant a la Regle de St Augustine. Prior model was clunis (St Benoit)
Church ... St Bartholomew in Levack.
The Celts and Druids from Ireland brought Christianity to France ... they had a connection with Greece and Middle East ... Egypt prior to Romans ... man from Ireland at the airport .... Hmmm
My mind has sobered up from this morning’s excitement ... seems there is nothing like the hot sun and a long walk carrying a heavy back pack to sober the mind.
Back to some details from the last couple of days ... shortly after entering the village of Saint Priest La Feuille. I stopped to ask a lady who was working in her garden if it was possible to buy a coffee in the village. She nodded and indicated ... straight ahead. At this time her husband appeared ... said bonjour ... and invited me in for a coffee ... this has only happened on a few occasions on all of my walking and I usually decline.
Seems this morning I was in the mood to accept. Just before saying ... Oui merci ... I glanced down the street and Francoise and Marie Hélène were sitting at the door to the local church 75-100 meters away. I pointed my fellow pilgrims out to the kind gentleman who invited me for a coffee and he quickly included them in the invitation.
I waved my stick and another gentleman ... the neighbor across the road called out to them. Francoise came along and Marie Helens stayed at the church ... hmmm strange! Learned that they thought I had found the key to the church and Francoise came along to collect it. Quickly cleared up the misunderstanding and we all went into the home for a coffee. Turns out Henry is an artist ... a wonderful collection of his work on display in the living room ... later we would visit his workshop and view yet more of his work ... he paints in several mediums ... water color ... acrylic ... oil ... pastels and more ... really impressive ... and turns out it is only a hobby. We sit outside on the back patio for our coffee ... Henry brings out a package of cookies and Francoise shares a package of fresh Algerian dates ... yummy!
A few minutes later Luc shows up ... he had stopped to check out the local 'dolmen' and the neighbor across the street insisted that he join his friends in Henry's back yard. This visit gave me a feeling something important was happening ... I asked Henry for his name and address and his wife's maiden name.
The property has a panoramic view of the country side ... apparently been in Murielle's family for a long time (maiden name 'Ladame'). A couple of intriguing items during the visit ... I learn of the existence of ‘Dolmens'. Francoise tells me they are pre-Roman structures with a reputation for some form of 'energy' in their vicinity.
She advises that most people cannot go very close or at least not stay very close ... Legend?? Fact? Mirielle gives us each a data sheet on the dolmen near Saint Priest which includes a tragic local legend. The other item is the word 'Baracats' comes up in conversation and seems to really intrigue Luc. Apparently the people of the village were called 'baracats' for a long time ... how long?
Seems several opinions exist as to the meaning of the word ... Henry offers the word 'chance' or luck as a meaning. Mirielle mentions a few others and than with a shrug says they don't really know and if we (Luc) finds out he should let them know. Mirielle gives us the web address for the village. The word 'baracat' would come up again the next day in Benevant ... hmmm!
No way I was going close to the local dolmen ... I have an eerie feeling about these things? Learn from the data sheet that they date 2000-3000 years before Christ ...the time of King David and earlier ... the High Priest Malchizadec? The word 'Priest' in the name of the village? Aimie's mention of the Celt or earlier peoples who discovered how to start a fire?
On to Benevent
Luc is taking pictures of the church when I arrive. He gives me the key to the refuge and points me in the right direction. Francoise and Marie Hélène arrive a bit later and a new fellow pilgrim Hugo from Belgium (Flem) arrives ... wow! 5 pilgrims under one roof ... we decide to prepare and eat supper together. A bit later while visiting the church I learn there is a prayer group meeting at 6:00 PM for some prayers. Also learn that June is the month of the Sacred Heart of Jesus
The front altar in the church is dedicated to the saint who had the appari-tion of Jesus. He introduced the term Sacred Heart. I joined the group of mostly old ladies for prayers, litany of the sacred Heart of Jesus and a Rosary.
Back to the refuge intenting to do some writing. Dr arrives and launches into a passionate and high volume discussion with the French Pilgrims. Hugo and I decide not to participate ... our French is not good enough! I figure Francoise or Luc will fill me in later.
Luc calls him for a casserole dish ... that's why he came over ... to deliver the casserole dish and have a look at Francoise’s foot. I mentioned to the Dr’s wife in the church that one of the pilgrims walking with me has a large infection on her feet.
On his way out Dr stops at the table where I am writing and says some-thing about Quebec and some long ... very long French name ... he seems surprised I don't know the name ... Jean Baptiste de la Croix de Sainte Vallier which in the documentation is Mgr Jean Baptiste de Saint Vallier. I learn later that his father was John of the Cross ... hmmm ... any refer-ence there to St John of the Cross in Spain?
Druids ... Baracat ... Psalm 121 Augustine ... distorted will ... collective will
June 13, 2004
I am in Les Billanges - today is Election Day. It's windy ... the door slams in my face as I enter ... I comment ... indicates I'm not invited ... kind gentleman invites me in ... coffee time.
Felt weak leaving the village ... no energy ... no will ... no will power ... felt like quitting?
Strength and positive feeling gradually returned ... feel compelled to write ... now!
Why did Luc call for a casserole bowl?
Why did Dr show up ... not his wife?
Why was I initially turned off by Dr ... his loud and aggressive voice and mannerism ... later learn this was simply a manifestation of his 'passion' for his work ... a reflection of his 'will power' to do what he does.. Hmmm
Why did I get excited when he This excitement would lead to his invita-tion started to tell me about Jean Baptiste(only now is the name really 'kicking in' ... hmmm) and how he managed to divert funds from the Abby Benevant to finance his work in Quebec.
This excitement would lead to his invitation to accompany him to his home to borrow some reading material on Jean Baptiste
In the car on the way to his home ... only 1 kilometer ... he would say the word 'baracat' ... hmmm ... of course this aroused my curiosity ... second time I hear this word in 2 days ... the intrigue and mystery attached to the first time I heard it. I launched into an enquiry about the origin and the meaning of the word 'baracat'.
Apparently Dr had also researched the history of this word ... why? ... Who knows eh! An Arab word in this part of the country? Dr with the same passion employed when speaking of Jean Baptiste explains that he has studied Islam and the Koran and the word means "Under the protec-tion of the Divine" ... in Christianity ... under the protection of God ... Yikes ... no sooner had he uttered these words and my memory instantly retrieved some events earlier today when I visited the church. The bible was open on the stand in the front altar ... as in St R ... open (Ecclesiastics ... life is useless ... like chasing the wind) my curiosity was aroused.
I went back to check out what was on the open page ... Psalm 121,122,123 and 124 ... I went to my bible to check out what these Psalms were all about ... Psalm 121 ... The protection of God ... Yikes!! ... Coincidence? ... Synchronicity?
Note in the back of the church ... Gospel of John ... the Virgin Mary will give you all truth
My excitement and intrigue is mounting ... back to the refuge ... my fellow pilgrims want to get to sleep ... I write a bit and than try to go to sleep myself ... restless night ... didn't sleep much ... gave my mattress to Francoise and Marie Hélène.
Next morning decided to scan some of the material Dr had loaned me the night before while sipping on my morning coffee ... quite interesting ... Jean Baptiste same period as Lois de Montfort (paper from 1998 in Jerusalem) St Jean de Breboeuf
Decided to photo copy a couple .of pages of his book. Intrigued that I am in this place learning about the early history of Canada ... French Canada anyway! Consider staying in the village for another day ... mixed feel-ings. Back to the refuge ... start writing ... thinking I will write a bit and than leave... try to digest what has happened ... Dr shows up ... see previous notes
What remains in my mind from all that Dr told me that morning?
The stamp of the 'goose' ... 2 instances ... one in flight ... the trademark of the builders of the church ... the goose as the 'bird' of Canada ... the goose symbolizing 'spiritual quest’?
The Druids ... Celts being in contact with the Greeks and Egyptians long before the Roman Empire. Christianity being brought to continental Europe by the Celts from Ireland ... not the Romans?
The feeling of a 'connection' between this and the man from Ireland at the airport?
The story told by the artwork in the church
congregate ... come together and go up
The church built on Druid measurements and technology ... the Golden number ...pi ... the number '6' ... now this came back connected to lots of dots ... St Augustine writes of the number '6' ... the only whole integer where the aggregate of its' divisors is the 'number' e.g. 1+2+3=6 ?
St Augustine ... in his book City of God (another story) also writes about the 6th age of man begins with the birth of Jesus ... and states this is the last ... final ... age of man because Jesus has no offspring.
Cause of the revolution ... the church exploited the peasants harshly ... a ce bon pied
The City of Man and The City of God ... in the same book ... 2 'collective wills' ... distortion of the will?
Page 14 in confessions
The rope bridge ... the chasm between the journey across and changing collective will participation.
The influence of St Augustine in the Abby Benevant ... see previous notes ... hmmm ... connection of the dots?
Back to what Dr said about the number '6' ... he talked about the form ... the 'shape' of the numeral 6 ... he said something to the effect ... if you straighten it out you have ... a seed ... I think he was referring to symbol-izing the 'germination of the spirit' in the universe.
While walking this morning my imagination latched onto this notion and came up with another notion ... if you straighten out the numeral 6 .. you get ... a 'sperm' ... the seed of man ... the serpent ... hmmm 666 ... the number of the beast ... 3 instances of 6 ... 3 is the number representing the 'divine' ... 4 represents man the square ... 3 the triangle ... Pierre's com-ments about the 'Heart of Berry' ... the intersection of the medians of a triangle ... the seventh day ... the Sabbath ... the day God rested in genesis ... WOW!! ... Pena alba ..(Another story)
The difficult ... hard ... very hard ...'dawn' Ste Teresa in Alba ... vilifica-tion ... transformation ... birth of the spirit ... no longer trapped in the flesh!
This notion of 'collective will' seems to be growing stronger and stronger ... the seed is germinating!!
Elijah ... how long will you people continue to limp along with 2 opinions ...'distorted will'(another story) ... the altars in the old testament ... dol-mens ...? brought to Europe by the Druids ???
You will know by the fruit ... suppose it is time to be humble and patient ... again ... still!!
While I remain a 'flock of one' ... all of this is still my personal fantasy ...
On to the next village ... the post cards on the wall ... Upper Egypt ... ancient structures and St Jacques Compostel
Back again ... a couple of kilometers later ... by the river ... crossed the bridge (Puente La Reina ...Jaca and other where all Caminos converge ... hmmm)
Seems today is one of those days that I have to write ... have to get it out of my head and on paper ... reminds me of Kabbala ... after you believe you have received some 'wisdom' ... you must share ... or the tap will be turned off ... and maybe if you persist in not sharing ... the pressure will build up and "kaboom" ... not "kabbala"
Wonder how many cases of mental breakdown are caused by this notion ... it has never been easy to 'share off color' thoughts and feelings ... the fear of persecution seems to be enough to keep them bottled up ... fish or cut bait ... Joan of Arc scribbling ... the dogs barking and the flock of sheep ... Christian last year.
On with revealing my thoughts ... 2500-3000 years ago mankind had conquered hunger ... agriculture and animal husbandry ... grain bins and flocks of sheep and goats. Mankind had also conquered security ... fortified communities ... weapons ...armies ... communal living ... united we stand.
So what would be next ... given that hunger and security were more or less conquered ... perhaps the clue lies in a few of the persons of this era ... Solomon ... Socrates ... Buddha ... Confucius. Solomon and Buddha's story is interesting ... both possessed considerable wealth and power and all of the physical luxuries in abundance ... available to mankind at the time ... yet both in different ways seemed to 'grasp' the incompleteness ... the unfairness ... the something is missing here notion. Both are legends in terms of their contribution to the body of knowledge known as 'wis-dom'.
Socrates gave his life for his conviction concerning the existence of one Divine Being ... one supreme 'God" . Interesting that again it seems mankind was nudged 'up the ladder' so to speak in different geographies and different cultures at or about the same time ...hmmm
Are we on the threshold of the next 'leap' in transformation (transfigura-tion another story).
Sitting on a bench in Mount Carmel ... man beside says you can catch a boat to many places ... cheap ... even Turkey ... little did I know a few years later a boat would take me to Turkish soil. Ephesus. Reminded as well about the 'locutions' I received on several occasions at mass a month or so before I left Canada ... Come to Me ... I will prepare you for battle. I will put on your girder or something like that. Right now this kind of spooks me! Back to my walk ... hope this burst of stuff in my mind settles down!
First exposure to Elijah ... the statue in the church and the cave
Back again ... couple of kilometers down the road ... the next village ... last village before stopping for the night ... about 10 kilometers to go ... strength is fading
Walked right past the bar ... stomach still full from lunch at the river ... church on the road and the door open ... decide to rest. Think this is another one of those abandoned churches with masses only once in a while ... no lamp burning on the altar ... assume no Eucharist in the tabernacle. though occurs to me ... are not the altars in our churches a remnant of the "dolmen" cult??
Two thoughts return since I last wrote ... one the flock of sheep and barking dog ... now my mind puts this image up against the notion of 'collective will ... seems logical that mass participation in the 'collective will' ... the flock of sheep is maintained as much by the 'perception of fear' as it is by our natural need to 'belong' ... poverty can not hurt you ... the fear of poverty can kill you ... stress ... perception is reality... fear of rejection ... fear of non-acceptance ... fear of poverty ... fear of loss of stature etc ... hmmm so many dogs barking every where ... all the time ...hmmm
Literally on the Camino ... yet non have more than barked yet! ... al-though some who were restricted by a fence or a chain looked pretty ferocious ... closest event was the goose on the road one day ... goose again ... seems they are fearless and protective animal ... Lionel said they are better than a guard dog ...hmmm
Second thought that came back again was my experience in Ar yesterday. Arrived at the church door and find the key in the door ... go in and have my lunch inside the church. Couple from Holland come along ... seemed surprised that I am in the church ... with a look that says it's always locked ... this couple lives in the village ... secondary residence nonethe-less , the gentleman starts taking pictures . Seems obvious that for how-ever long they have lived in this village they have never been inside this church ... hmmm reminds me of the experience 2 days ago when Fran-coise and Marie Hélène mistakenly thought I had found the key to the church in Saint Priest ...hmmm!
My imagination runs away with this small experience too ... here I have been given the key to the church ... the House of God ... the Kingdom of God ... what a fantasy! and what an ego eh!!
Mary Magdalene stooping over body of Jesus post crucifixion ... first person to see the risen Jesus
Greek like icon of Mary ... Lady of Perpetual Help
To make matters worse I am writing these notes in a church ... my 3 lady friends are here ... St Michael is here ... Sacred Heart of Jesus is here and more ... an unusual statue ... one I have never seen before ... St Peter holding up a key in his right hand and a rooster at his feet ... have seen the statue with St Peter holding the key ... never with a rooster.
Have always found the 'denial' and 'rooster' part of the story of St Peter fascinating. The man whom Jesus would entrust with the key to the Kingdom of God and all the perks that go along with it would deny knowing his Master 3 times ... always to women??? ... Seems like another example of perceived fear ... and perception is reality.
I arrive in St Leonard Noblant ... I find the church ... a lady is walking toward me ... decide to ask her about the location of the refuge ... she gives me the look ... I don't have a clue what you are talking about. Before I can say merci ... I hear a voice behind me ...its Francoise and Marie Hélène ... with the gentleman who looks after the refuge. They were just finishing their tour of the church. Once again ... impeccable timing ... what a relief! ... I am tired.
Just after I put my pen down and hoisted my backpack onto my shoulder ... walked about 50 meters up the trail ... a kind lady is standing on the side of the trail with an inviting look ... one that says ... stop and chat if you have time. She was such a gentle lady ... she offered me something to drink ... I asked to have my water bottle filled ... a few minutes earlier I had been a bit nervous about not having enough water for the remaining 6 kilometers. She told me she is from Limonge ... bought the house beside the trail as a weekend home and now lives in it permanently. She ex-plained that the house was a prison originally ... a long time ago.
My mind wouldn't let go of the rooster at the foot of the statue of St Peter ... deny 3 times before the cock crows ... kept going through my mind and than a 'cogito' moment ... the cock(rooster) crows to announce the dawn of a new day ... the dawn of the Age of Aquarius melody played in my head. So much symbolism that points to the dawn of a new era ... a new age of man ... hmmm
Learn that St Leonard is a patron saint of prisoners ... is that why the lady told me her home was formerly a prison. Reminded of a dream a friend shared with me several years ago. She found herself in this prison ... frantically trying to find her way out ... up and down stairs ... in and out of alleys ... some people told her to go this way ... she went ... dead end ... other people said no no ... go this way ... again dead end and so on and so on ... she never did get out of the prison in her dream. At the time I believe I shared my interpretation of her dream ... symbolizes people trying to find freedom ... the light ... the truth ... and being told so many different stories about what to do and how to find it ... and most often all leads to a dead end ... like the various religions.
Also reminds me of the time a few years ago when I heard at mass the gospel reading about how Jesus came to save prisoners ... now I had heard this story so many times and I had always taken the words literally ... at face value ... came to help people recover/heal from being in jail/prison. This particular day my understanding was quite different ... He came to help us all ... we are all prisoners in this valley of tears.
Picked up the feathers on the road.
Winston Churchill ... we are not humans with a spirit ... we are spirits wrapped in human flesh. Today it seems more appropriate to say we are spirits trapped in human flesh.
The same friend had another dream a few weeks later that she gave birth to a white lamb ... weird eh! ... I thought all lambs were born black ... even at the time I still considered the lamb referring to the "Lamb of God" ... Jesus. Maybe the two dreams are connected after all ... the prison and the savior/redeemer. St Leonard are you helping me to understand this?
The artwork ... a rooster sitting on top of a cross symbolizing "Christ" announcing the dawn of a new age!
St Leonard 494-559
"Mais il est surtout l'intercessor au pres de Dieu, de tous les hommes qui veulent se liberer de l'egoisme et de l'orgueil"
June 14, 2004
Now that was a pleasant surprise! I'm in Auriel. Just before walking into the village I am mentally challenging the practicality of leaving St Leonard without eating and without buying anything for the road. It's not that I was in a rush to leave ... seems I simply wasn't in the mood to eat or buy anything to eat. Contrast this experience with yesterday ... yesterday without planning or intention I had a fabulous breakfast ... hot chocolate, coffee , croissant toasted bread with butter and honey .. jam ... a few cherries. I had asked the chef the evening before what time he opened in the morning ... concerned about my morning coffee!
I also mentioned that there were 2 other pilgrims who would likely be interested (Francoise and Marie Hélène) He agreed to open an hour earlier than usual 8:00 vs. 9:00 .
When I arrived ... alone and before Francoise and Marie Hélène ... entered the small bar/restaurant and here is this feast all set out on a table ... at this point I am too embarrassed to decline the wonderful break-fast(regardless of cost) ... and to boot ... my appetite came to life and I was hungry ... quite hungry! ... Very unusual for me in the mornings.
So this morning I leave with only my coffee in my belly ... I pass a bar on the way out of town ... take a second look ... think about it ... maybe they have croissants ... nope ... keep going. A few minutes later I stop at an Auberge Restaurant ... door is open ... I think maybe they will have a croissant ... enter and ask ... nope! Seems I have to walk the 10 kilometers with only my coffee ... Oh well!!
The time and the distance passes quickly enough ... especially the first 7 kilometers ... figure I am flying on the wings of fantasy again and experi-encing the energy ... the adrenaline rush from this bad habit!
Anyway ... arrive in Auriel ...tiny village with a big church ... my eyes scan up and down the street ... see the exit sign for this village. Oh! Oh! ... What I see is all there is.
Notice this tiny little rather old sign "Restaurant" ... the building looks like one of those ...'former restaurant locations! ... closed up ... abandoned or converted to a personal residence.
I look ... I look again... decide there is no restaurant bar here ... start to leave ... say to myself ... if it is not here(my croissant) I have to walk all the way to L without anything ... another 10 kilometers ... Yikes!!
I walk up to the door ... peer through the window in the door ... not very bright inside ... open the door and stick my head inside ... two people sitting at a table ... I have the feeling I am trespassing ... illegally entering a personal residence.
The people smile ... I ask "Is this a restaurant?" ... the response is "entre entre" ... Ok I am in now.
One of the ladies ask me if I am here to eat ... I reply ...yes ... something small ... not much .
She obviously didn't understand my response. She urges me to follow her into another room. I start to drop my backpack ... she says ... non ...non ... bring it with you ...OK!
She brings me into this large room with several tables and lots of noise ... a table of 12-15 gentlemen ... eating and conversing ... and laughing.
She directs me to a table in the far corner of the room ... all eyes seem to be on me ... Oh well! After sitting I ask her if there is a menu or only the lunch special ... she replies only the lunch special.
By this time I am too embarrassed to say it has been a misunderstanding ... get up and walk out ... I'm trapped! Yikes!! I would never have volun-tarily decided to buy such a wonderful meal ... Oh Well! ... Now that I'm stuck here ... might as well enjoy it ... and I did.
She brings some bread and a plate of tomatoes but I dove into them like they were candy! Beef, wine, potato (cake) desert, coffee, salad ... ate like a pig ... had no idea how hungry I was!!
Coffee doesn't come ... men leave so I decide to write
Back to the walk ... about kilometers 6 or 7 a cross made from steel is on the path ... a bit decorative ... nothing terribly special ... I've seen so many crosses and crucifixes along the way. As I looked at this cross suddenly 2 filing cabinets in my memory flew open and revealed their contents to my conscious mind ... top of mind ... as if to say ... here look at me ... re-member me ... oh! how the mind and the memory is such a mystery.
One memory occured on Mount Kruzevick in Medugorje in 1996 or 1997. Sitting on top of the mountain (the same mountain I saw my first authentic flock of sheep and shepherd) was this young lady ... I remember her feet and ankles were all swollen and looked like they caused her considerable pain. I think her name was Snejena or something like that meaning snow white or something. She explained this to me in her limited English. For some reason she also described her understanding of the symbolism in the 'cross ... a crucifix ... with or without the image of the body of Christ. The vertical component represents the connection between man on earth and God in Heaven.
The horizontal component symbolizes those times where we humans do not conform our 'will' to the 'will' of God and the result is suffering ... the suffering of Jesus crucified ... always appreciated this interpretation.
Len ... Leonard and Leonardo Gaulois and Roman
Gaulier Gautier Gauthier all derivatives of Gaulois? ... the Gauls??
The other memory was Father Bourque (another story) He also provided an interpretation of the symbolism in the cross ... the vertical component symbolized the reconciliation of man the individual and 'God' ... from bottom (man) to God (top). The horizontal component symbolized the inclusion of all peoples in this reconciliation ... Jesus stretched out His arms to include all of mankind ... also have always enjoyed this interpre-tation ... both have been absent from my conscious thought for a long time. Also remember the roots of the word 'religion' is something to the effect ... to reconnect with God
*** insert ... the word reconnect infers there was a disconnect ... the essence of the story of Genesis.
Spent some time trying to dust off some other memories of interactions with Father Bourque. He was instrumental in the early days weeks and months of my 'journey'
crazy or saint
alone ... be killed (prophet)
touching my arm (surge of energy/electric) He was asking what I would do without human touch. Term from Kitchener woman. Skin starved.
baptized with water and than fire (Virgin Mary) response to my attempted suicide ... immersing myself in the lake)
his passion for North American Indian rendition of Christianity ... his art collection
2 angels Paula and Ii refurbished
I know you love God ... I can see it in your eyes
I was expecting you ... woke up in the night thinking of you
quasi annulment ... joy of participating in Eucharist again after a 20-30 year absence
Back again ... in Limoges
Before leaving the restaurant decided to count the chairs at the table ... the one with the large group of noisy ... in a friendly way ... of men. 12 chairs ... oops ... nope ...1 3 ... one at the head of the table. At the number 12 my mind went to the last supper ... when I realized there were 13 gentlemen ... a very slight sense of disappointment ... nope ... no way I could tie this experience to the 'last supper' ... there were only 12 disci-ples. A few seconds later my mind went ... now just a minute ... there were 12 disciples plus Jesus at the last supper ... hmmm maybe there is something here!
My mind amused itself with the number 13 for a while ... laughing at itself for always having the number 12 associated with the 'last supper' ... than moving on to recall the superstitions associated with the number 13 ... Friday the 13th ... some buildings without a 13th floor ... the numbers o from 12 to 14 ... always found this amusing when traveling in the eleva-tors in these buildings.
Than on to the memory that the apparitions at Fatima were all (except one) on the 13th of the month ... Oh how amusing the mental game of playing with numbers can sometimes be ... my mind must be pretty empty that it has time to amuse itself with this stuff!
13 Euros for the meal ... 13 Euros for the room ... hmmm
Walking the first couple of kilometers my mind went back to the number 6 ... in particular the shape and form used to create the symbol represent-ing the numeral ... and the comments of Dr in Abbey Benevent.
Today my mind drifted away a bit ... looking at the number 6 like this ... 9 ... forms the shape of our nervous system with the closed area at the top representing our brain and the stem our spinal cord ... this is very similar to some far out thoughts and discussions I had with Ash at work a few days before leaving. At that time I was sharing with Ash my thoughts that the shape of a serpent is similar to the shape of our central nervous system ... with the head of the serpent representing our brain ... I remember his comment ... the bottom of our spine ends in a point (narrow) shape ... like that of a serpent ... hmmm
Suppose one could reshape the symbol for the number 6 to look like a serpent too!!
My imagination wasn't finished with this yet ... went on to look at 3 upside down 6's together 999 ... shape modified again ... a different rendition of the number 666 associated with the number of the beast ... end times stuff.
My mind said ... what if the number of the beast is not a number at all ... so let's look at the quantity of the 6's ... 3 of them ... there is that Divine number again ... so let's say the number of the beast is actually the period of time when mankind feels it has no more need of the Divine ... of God ... mankind is arrogant enough to believe it can control it's own destiny etc ... seems to fit with where we are today ... stem cell research ... cloning ... re-engineering food in our food chain ... vegetables ... drugs for animals etc
Seems to me we live in a time that fits the above theory ... so maybe there is no "beast" after all ... hmmm. Spoke with a retired priest earlier this evening ... he was a professor at some institute in Spain. I am staying at the building that was formerly a seminary and before that a hospital (apparently built by the Americans during WW II) This priest attended this seminary in 1944 ... and he tells me there were 100 seminarians housed here at that time. Today there is 2 from this area and they went somewhere else ... seems to support the hypothesis
That mankind has decided since we don't need God anymore we don't need priests either... ???
When I said goodbye to Francoise and Marie Hélène this morning I figured I may not see them again ... because Limoges is quite a large city
On the outskirts of the city I look up ... I look at the ground a lot when I am walking ... and there they are ... about 50 meters in front of me! And thank goodness!! ... they not only found this place to stay ... 5 star ... they prevented me from getting lost on the way into the city ... Francoise is a stickler for details and she pays close attention to the guide.
Surprising how helpful these two ladies have been in the last several days ... I remember saying to them after the first day or so ... seems our 'paths' are destined to keep intersecting .. at the time we were running into each other an odd ball circumstances ... seems we still are
Francoise paid my 'fee' here ... the receptionist had no change ... Fran-coise paid by cheque ... yet another small instance of how they seem to be helping me ... intentionally or otherwise.
Checked my email ... received a nice ecard from Judy ... checked my bank account ... seems I'll be OK for a bit longer ... today for some reason I felt more comfortable about money ... earlier this afternoon ... wonder if it had anything to do with splurging on lunch today
Thought about the rooster and announcing the dawn of a new day and the denial 3 times. seemed symbolic ... a way of prophesying that most people would deny the Divinity of Jesus until the rooster crows for the arrival of the final dawn ... sure we give lip service to the belief ... but for most of us ... seems to me the vast majority ... certainly not all though ... nothing more ... like Jesus said to the Pharisees and Sadducees ... your lips articulate the prayers and you even follow the 'law' ... yet your 'hearts' are as hard as stone ... really now ... has anything changed?
Remember sometime today the 'washing of the feet' part of the gospel ... Jesus didn't ask his disciples to drop on one knee and kiss the ring or His hand ... He put on the apron ... and washed their feet ... and said to them ... I do this as an example of how you are to be ... so how close do we ... any of us ... resemble Jesus' example?
Another open bible today ... in the hallway at the seminary ... Open at Isaiah 61 ... The Good News of Deliverance... yikes!! ... Particularly 61 1-2
"He has sent me to proclaim
That the time has come
When the Lord will save His people
And defeat their enemies
* ... words used by Jesus at the beginning of His ministry to express His calling
Yikes!! ... Yikes!!
Martial on my mind a lot this morning... Limoges ... St Martial ... forgetting my guide at the tobacco store "chose poses ... chose oubliez"
Le Saint Sacrament du Corps et du Sang de Christ
Genesis 14, 18-20 Malkesidek
Psalm 109(110) 1,2,3,4 109.4
Tu es pretre a jamais Christ et Seigneur
Luc 9 115-117 5 bread 2 fish
Gift from the butcher ... pork sausage ... later give to Francoise the experience at the Boucherie Charcutterie ... while waiting for my quiche to warm up ... man beside me rushes out of the store to the plaza across the street ... an old man is lying on the pavement ... the owner of the store goes over ... comes back and says the elder gentleman is very sick ... the gift of the sausage ... worth more than I paid for my quiche
I eat my lunch leaning up against the church realize I have lost my guide … Yikes! … back track … down the hill to the tobacco shop ½ kilometer … whew! … found it. Back to the church to retrive my backpack … decide to visit for a few minutes … room full of relics … no entry … bible open on the altar again … almost afraid to go see what page is open … as I am noting the page open I hear voices … sounds like Francoise and Marie Helene … Yup! … and an older lady about 80 who is crying and in some sort of panic … leave my notes and approach the older lady who is now explaining her story to Fran-coise and Marie Helene … she has lost her husband … she has been looking all over and can’t find him … thus the panic. I wonder to myself if it is the same man who was lying on the pavement earlier … turns out it is … we find the older lady a ride home … she says she will call her son … apparently she has had a bad couple of days … wonder why I was involved in these events???
Chalus
Sitting in a bar called Lawrence of Arabia … the lady tells me Lawrence visited (stayed over night) here … was called the Grand Hotel at the time … apparently he was traveling across France on bicycle at the time and was here to visit the Chateau ‘Richard the Lion Heart’. Seems I am in Richard the Lion Heart country today …hmmm … (the gentleman in Split … all children are a blessing and Richard the Bruce … another story) More about Lawrence of Arabia later … seems he is also one of those human beings who changed the course of history … what would the world be like today if the Turks still controlled the Middle East … with all the oil that was and is there???
Back to yesterday … there would be 2 more surprises on the walk from Limonges to Cars … one not so pleasant! The walk was 30 kilometres and my feet were aching from the moment I left Limonges. At the 20 kilometre mark I was literally limping along … wondering how I would survive the next 10 kilometres. As fate would have it … I had nothing to worry or be anxious about … around the 20 kilometre mark I was given a ‘shot in the ass’ … an experience that would alleviate the pain and ache in my feet … or at least give me something else more painfull to think about … a pain in my lower right cheek … facing south … the lower eastern part of my west cheek … my butt!!
A big … real big german sheperd bit me in the ass!! It all happened so fast … it was over before I saw it coming … at the time I am walking along slowly … half limping … I hear a dog bark and I see a dog approaching me … sort of … my mind is kinda out to lunch … drifting off somewhere. I hear the shout of the dogs owner … a lady. Perhaps hearing the shout of the dogs’ owner gave me a false sense of security … surely the dog would respond to its’ owner and I would be safe. I just kept walking along … and … zap! … ouch!!
I turned around to face the dog and said ‘non’ … nothing more … don’t remember being in a state of panic … the dog still looked menacing as though he was ready for more … ???
Francoise and Marie Helene were about 20-30 metres behind me … whenever we have been on the Camino together they have usually always been in front of me … I explained to them that I have 2 speeds … slow and stop!
So why today was I in front and ‘zap’ … ouch! … again.
The dog decided to leave and head towards Francoise and Marie Helene … Yikes!! … mixed feelings … joy that the dog was walking away from me … anxiety about what he might do to Francoise and Marie Helene. All this time the dog is barking, the owner is shouting and us 3 pilgrims are silently wondering what will happen next. The dog turns back towards me … Yikes! … I learn later that Francoise carries a dog ‘zapper’ … some kind of electronic device that emits a high frequency sound … maybe the dog was repelled by this???
Anyway he is now back menacing me … barking … threatening … I repeat the word “no” a few times … in English and in French in case he is not bilingual
The owner is now approaching me … to collect her dog … thank goodness!! I rub my butt … it’s bloody sore!
The ladies … Francoise and Marie Helene ask me if I have been bitten … I nod affirmative … they notice that my pants are ripped! … they ask me if I want them to clean it and put some disinfectant on … Marie Helene says she is carrying some medicine for this purpose. Given the rather sensitive location of the ‘bite’ … I politely decline!
The pain and aching in my feet disappear … I am energized! … start walking faster than usual … joke to Francoise … I can’t sit anymore so I might as well walk! The next 6-7 kilometers pass rather quickly. My mind is focused on the bar in the next village … I had wanted a coffee anyway … and now I want to have a look at the ‘memory’ my encounter with this large German Shepherd had left me. My butt hurts!
Arrive at the bar … have my coffee … decide I had better put some of the stuff I have in my backpack for blisters on my butt, if there is any skin broken.
Go to the washroom to check it out … close the door to the small room that houses the toilet, pull down my pants and twist my neck to have a look … can’t see anything … feel with my hands .. I can feel some-thing but the location is not visible even with the maximum turn of my neck. Think to myself … I will need a mirror to see this … one of those floor mirrors.
Oh well! … I walk into the enclosure just outside the toilet rooms … where there is a sink to wash your hands … and ‘voila!’ … one of those floor mirrors … now this is really strange.
Rarely do you see, if ever, this kind of mirror in the small bars in the small villages … this must have been all planned!! Predestined!!
I have a look … Yikes! … a large enough scar … no wonder it hurts I think to myself. I apply some of the red stuff … as best I can
I expect Francoise and Marie Helene to show up any time and I wonder how I will react if they ask to see the evidence of the dog bite. They don’t show up … I figured they bypassed the bar and went directly to the next village … the scheduled stop for the day … nope! … This leads to the next surprise of the day.
I wouldn’t see Francoise and Marie Helene again today …at least I didn’t think I would
I arrive in the village … knowing the guide says there is a refuge and it is necessary to contact the Maire. It’s about 7:30 PM … the Maire’s office has been closed since 5:00 PM … no problem I think to myself … someone here will help me out … such arrogance eh!
I stop in front of a home where an older man is sitting on the front step. Ask him if he knows where the refuge is located. He explains that I have arrived much too late … it is the Maire who looks after it and you have to arrive before 5:00 PM. Oh well! … I ask him if he has seen 2 other pilgrims … I am referring to Francoise and Marie Helene.
He replies … “oui” … they arrived much earlier and they are at the refuge. Thinking this is a bit strange … but I go along with the flow and ask for directions to the refuge … confirming once again that the 2 other pilgrims are indeed at the refuge … yup! … good enough for me. He points to the opposite direction of the bar … I always prefer to head towards the bar … not away from it so I ask him how far it is … about 600 meters … not bad. He tries to give me more specific directions … several clues … some of which I understand … the rest???
I get to the village pool and tennis court … a few buildings around … none look like a refuge … although no 2 refuges look alike so I don’t know where I get this notion from??? I wander around looking here … looking there … and ‘voila’ … some clothing hanging on a rail at the building beside the pool … the best proof of the existence of a refuge and the presence of pilgrims … how encouraging.
Think it is strange that Francoise and Marie Helene already have laundry done.
I go up to the door … it’s locked … oh!oh! Peek in through the window and notice 2 people sitting at a table in the middle of a large room. They notice me and wave instructions to go around to the other side of the building … Whoopy! Success!
Auriele explains they walked 40 kilometers … very fast to arrive before 5:00PM … and I saunter in …
A very nice couple from Belgium … Auriele … same name as saint in Limoges??? Confirms there is space … 2 rooms converted to sleeping rooms … they occupied one and I was ushered to the vacant room .. 2 single beds … pushed together.
A tinge of disappointment … what will I do when Francoise and Marie Helene show up? Oh well! … guess I’ll sleep on the floor … at least I have a roof over my head … and don’t need to worry about a dog attacking me in the night … like at ‘ ‘ when I slept outside in the back of the church.
Head for the bar, partly for another coffee and partially to look for/enquire about Francoise and Marie Helene … maybe they are looking for the refuge. No sign of them … ask the lady at the bar … nope! Divine Providence?? … happy to have a bed!!
No shower … so what!! Try to get to sleep … very, very tired … seems the 2 recent coffees are keeping me from sleeping! Look at the route for the next day … lights off … back to my attempt to sleep … nope … up again … decide to read the bible passages I wrote down at the Church in Limoges … Malkezedek … hmmm … see comments several pages back.
No big reaction to readings … back down … in a short while I am asleep!!
Fellow pilgrims have already left when I get up to pee … left me a note on how to get out … the door I came in was ‘locked’ … could not exit this way. Turns out I had to jump the fence by the pool. Back to bed … someone shows up a bit later … ask him for time … maybe the Maire … it’s 7:15 AM … still not ready to get up.
Crawl out of bed … pack up … and head to the bar/restaurant where I had reserved breakfast … glad I reserved … great breakfast\t despite the cost 5.5 Euros … juice large coffee croissant bread butter and jam. When breakfast arrived … I said to myself … wow! … won’t be able to eat all this … I’ll make myself a jam sandwich for the road I thought to myself … nope! … ate it all … I was more hungry than I thought … shared a tiny bit with a huge black dog … St Bernard … Newfy
Hot today … first 10 kilometers quite nice … some through the bush … with shade!!
Reflecting on the experience yesterday … the dog bite. First thought was ‘omen’ that I will be attacked from the rear in the future … I must be careful and be prepared.
Much later I found myself smiling to myself inside … enough that it percolated to my head and I smiled outside … literally! The thought occurred to me that I was given the ‘shot in the ass’ to encourage me … to remind me that I have not been given all that I have been given (assuming ‘wisdom’ here) to keep it to myself(no one lights a lamp and puts it under a bushel)
I remembered that just before the bite I was going through another one of those periods of ‘doubt’ thinking that all that I have written, all my thoughts and reflections are useless and I must stop and further I will not share this stuff with anyone … I go through this kind of ‘doubt’ often ,,, thus the ‘bite’ in the ass … Divine Providence reminding me that He is in charge and I will do whatever He asks me to do … or else???
Thus the smile … almost a chuckle …!!
Dog was more menacing than vicious. The immediate surge in energy and the relief from the pain and ache in my feet made it almost worth-while.
More reflections this morning on the readings from last night … Malkizadek … High Priest … King of Salem. In my mind I always associate the word ‘Salem’ with witch and witchcraft … why?? … is there some basis for this … is I true?? … if so … what is Judaism doing being associated with witches and witchcraft???
Malkezedek bringing bread and wine to Abraham … symbolizing food and drink for the flesh … no more?? Malkezedek asking the Most High God to bless Abraham … not Malkezedek blessing Abraham?? Abrahams willingness to sacrifice his only son Isaac … and than not … symbolizing God telling us He wants no more sacrifices … no more intermediaries … He will deal ‘be’ one with us One on one and us with Him??
Abrahams 2 sons … again symbolizing the notion of 2 ‘collective wills’
Strange notions … I have no wish … absolutely no wish to challenge church authority and tradition I am still so comfortable embracing Jesus as Messiah and Saviour and the Catholic Church while not unique and alone … certainly His agent.
St Barnabe Apotre
Acts of the Apostles 11,21-26, 13 1-3
Psalm 97 Dieu revele sa victoire a toutes les nations
Matthew 10, 7-13
Psalm 77 Acts 8, 14-17
In my room at the convent Ste Marie
Been quite a day … quite a 2 days … my butt still hurts … I can almost sit on it tonight though … suppose that is a good sign.
Sometimes it seems it is the small events and experiences that are so intriguing … so full of mystery. While we are attentive for the ‘big’ events of our lives … perhaps we are often too busy to notice the ‘small’ events. Today seemed to be a day where I was more aware of the ‘small’ stuff.
First to complete my reflections on the readings from the previous night … these are the thoughts /reflections that passed through my mind today … not my convictions. The story of Jacob and Essau and Isaac’s blessing.
As mentioned earlier, seems to be yet another symbolic example of the existence of 2 ‘collective wills’. The story of Isaac’s blessing … conferred on Jacob versus Essau is also apparently filled with mystery. The mystery from a Jewish perspective (December 1998) and the mystery from a Catholic perspective St Louis de Montfort. Both writers eloquently illustrate the ‘hidden mystery’ in the event … who knows what we are really suppose to learn from it??
Also spent some time reflecting on the excerpt from St Paul’s letter to the Corinthians … reminds me of my visit to Corinth and Ephesis. Have been slightly uncomfortable with all the press St Paul receives … both Catholic and non-Catholic Christians …
How he signs the letters Like cake … sweet and yummy not necessar-ily good for you.
Not to take anything away from St Paul’s work to evangelize Christ … yet … Paul is Paul and Jesus is Jesus and Jesus spent 3 years teaching His disciples. John is the only apostle who died a natural death … at an old age and is believed to be the apostle referred to as the ‘beloved’.
Surprising that we don’t focus more on St John’s writings … suppose it is all part of the mystery of the Dive Plan for our salvation.
Reminded today of the experience in Salablanca … I think … the large city where I found my way to the recommended hostel. Remember I was pretty excited … also excited because I would be spending the night on St Paul street … nope! … hostel booked solid … no space available.
Moved from excitement to anxiety in a hurry … how was I to find a place to stay in this huge city … some place cheap!
Walked on … down the street … I think around the corner and my eyes caught a sign that looked interesting … don’t know exactly why … but I looked for the name of the street … don’t usually do this … don’t usually care
The street was named Jesus Street … picked up my spirits … I was back to being excited … thinking to myself … St Paul Street is OK but I am wanted on Jesus Street … hmmm
The place turned out to be wonderful and a real bonus … the lady whose name I believe was Fatima … sure sounded like Fatima when her husband called her by name.
She offered to do my laundry … for a small fee of course … who cares about the fee! … someone will clean all of my dirty … sweaty clothes … WOW!!
Bread and wine … the celebration of the Eucharist … the cornerstone of the Catholic Church … Mme Verguy … je trouve ca un peu carni-val … je m’excuse mais c’est comme je le vois … Yikes!
Wonder how many people feel the same way? I think about how much participation in ‘communion’ … the Eucharist has changed since I was a child. As an altar boy I used to hold the l;arge brass plate like thing under peoples’ chins as they knelt at the altar railing for communion.
Today we receive it in our hands from Eucharistic ministers as well as priests … ???
Also seems amazing how little Impact participating in Eucharist seems to have on people … manifested in the parking lot after church as everyone … no not everyone … but many, many scramble to exit the parking lot first … hmmmm … again I suppose part of the mystery of the plan for our salvation
Some small events of today … entering town looking for a bar … keen on visiting the bar called “Richard the Lion Heart” … nope! …closed … look and look … pass an open bar when I see the sign “ Bar Lawrence of Arabia” … seeing the name of the place was enough to decide to go in. The friendly young lady inside … her knowledge of the Chateau … Richard the Lion Heart and even more surprising her knowledge of Lawrence of Arabia and his visit to this particular village and stay at this particular place … which was a hotel at the time.
Richard the Bruce … gave me money in Split … all children are a blessing
Ash … swastika is Hindu originally
The music when I was about to pay … asked her if it was Arabic … nope … it’s Indian. Amazing how Indian Arabic and Greek music have some very similar sounds … to my ears anyway!
So who passed on what to whom?? Or did all these divergent cultures create a similar sound on their own???
Bought a package of cookies … turned out to be St Michael’s stamped cookie … defeating Lucifer.
Finished writing at the bar … put my book and pen away and got up to pay. The lady wasn’t around … walked to the doorway to look around while waiting for the lady to return … and there is Marie Helene walking up the street 20-30 metres away.
She seemed happy to see me … explained that her and Francoise imagined the worst (from my dog bite) and she was happy to see that and I was OK. Her comment that if she had not separated temporarily from Francoise and taken a slightly different route we would not have met … at least not at this particular time
Bought a package of cookies … turned out to be St Michael stamped cookies defeating Lucifer.
Smoked my last cigarette in the bar … asked if they sold cigarettes … nope … asked about a tobacco shop … nope … closed for siesta … a bar that sells cigarettes … nope … closed today … Yikes!! Know that I had a spare pack in my backpack … found them in the morning … had forgotten that I put them there.
Francoise comment in the church “Tombe de Ciel”… the sausage being bad … my comment to Francoise today … “Pas tous qui tombe de ciel est bonne”. Getting lost several times after the bar … losing my guide … thinking I lost it … found it in my backpack … walked an extra kilometer for nothing.
Getting lost even after I recovered my guide … finding my location at the road sign la passage … meeting Francoise and Marie-Helene when I make my way back to the camino … and I am coming to this point from a different direction.
Lawrence of Arabia Bar and Henry Ford … oil appetite … couldn’t remember the name ‘Henry’
The room I was given was called St Francis of Assisi room! … they name the rooms at this former convent … statue of St Francis beside my bed. The retired priest at Limoges saying to me … you are on the Chemin Assisi … when I am sure he intended to say Chemin St Jacques … hmmm … seems this past 9 years so much has happened after I visited Assisi(wanted by Interpol) and read a book on the life of St Francis … hmmm. Apparently one of his visions was something to the effect … Rebuild my Church … and he never did become a priest or write a constitution for his followers.
This convent is an Augustine one … yikes … he is getting closer … sat in the dining room before supper … looking at a statue of him. Father Patrick is an Augustinian … first I have met I believe. Statue of St Pio … was thinking of him today or yesterday … visit to San Giovanni de Rotundo with Kevin and Mike.
Ste Gracieuse “Our Lady Mystic Rose’ … celebrate mass the 13th of each month.
‘N ‘
The small events of our lives … those experiences that pass almost unnoticed … sitting on a fast moving train … looking out the window … and all is a ‘blur’ … cannot distinguish one thing from another … before our eyes can focus on one ‘spot’ … the train has moved on … and the ‘target’ of our eyes has passed … never to be seen clearly … ‘life is useless’ … it’s like chasing the wind.
Did Plato try to say the same thing … “Centuries before John com-posed his Gospel, the Greek philosopher Plato became well-known because of his unique explanation of our human condition. In his view of the world, we’re slaves chained together facing the rear wall of a cave, unable to turn around and look at what’s going on at the entrance behind us. All we know of reality are the shadows of objects which pass by the mouth of the cave, projected on the wall. One of the goals of Plato’s philosophy is to help us break our chains, turn around and experience things as they really are, to discover the “true” in life”
Warm reception in the morning at the ancient convent … Marie and her daughter … big bowl of coffee … bread … butter and jam … perfect!
On to Coquille just as I am leaving the village I spot a pilgrim 50-75 metres away … can’t be sure who it is … think maybe it’s Francoise or Marie-Helene … yup … I would catch up with them 3-4 kilometres later. The small events … why did I walk so fast for the last 7 kilome-tres yesterday… after seeing the time in the bar in ‘ ‘ 4:30 PM – reminded of Martial’s comments … nuns in convents have strict rules … must arrive before 6:00 PM
I thought … seems I really wanted to stay at the convent … at the time I didn’t know why … think I got a small hernia from the fast walking … up hill … through swampy trails … yikes! … why?
I arrive at the convent … older looking building … the gate is locked … press the door bell … nada! … press it again … nada … Oh! Oh! All that for nothing! Looked down the street … a lady was getting something out of her vehicle. She indicated (international body lan-guage) that the entrance was further down the street … encouraged … I move on down the road … yup … an entrance … gate is open … yippee!!
Still no sign of life … some cars parked … yet another locked door. Take off my backpack … look around … spot a lady watering the flowers … Marie … wonderful lady … such an inviting and warm reception
So why am I writing about this now and not with the notes I wrote in my room the night I spent in the convent?? … because of what Fran-coise and Marie-Helene shared with me when I met them on the camino … they too arrived at the convent … they too found all the doors locked … they assumed nobody was home or it was too late … hmmmm
They also shared with me that they intentionally decided to take more risk this particular day … not telephone ahead and make reservations and ‘voila’ … no place to sleep.
They walked the additional 2 kilometres to Coquille … went to the local hotel and were refused at the hotel because they hadn’t called ahead to let them know they were coming … what? … sounds so strange! Doesn’t pay to take risks eh!
Francoise and Marie-Helene asking me about Paolo Coehelo books … the dog in the book about the camino …. His last book not available in Canada
On with their story … they went tot the local pharmacy in Coquille … Marie-Helene had been suffering for a long ways with blisters … Marie-Helene told me about how she was sitting on a chair in the pharmacy … feeling and looking pooped! … completely pooped!!
The pharmacist must be a compassionate man … he arranged to have them driven to the local camp area and they spent the night in a camp chalet … apparently quite comfortably … so go figure … maybe taking risks and being patient is OK after all! … who knows!!
Seems I was destined to spend the night alone in the convent … without any distractions??
Hallway with all the statues 3 chapels
The Zen temple almost next door to the convent … me sharing the story of St Francis … my night with the bowl of soup … Marie-Helene saying Buddha had a similar experience. Just after finishing the story of the bowl of soup the cat meowing in the forest … we stop … this young … awfully skinny cat comes up to us … we give it a piece of croissant … Francoise a piece of cheese … seems the cat is as needy for affection as it is for food … Marie-Helene’s comment … usually cats … when they notice us pilgrims … run away in a hurry … to safety … to their comfort zone … this particular experience with this cat is so different … I comment to Francoise and Marie-Helene … like the experience I had with the bowl of soup … we were given the opportunity (privilege) of helping a fellow ‘being’ who is hungry and lonely … ???
We would separate again shortly after and I woulod not see Francoise and Marie-Helene until … while writing
On arrival in Thives … email available … go to the office of tourism to enquire about refuge … must go to the camp area 1.5 kilometres … enquire about availability for Francoise and Marie-Helene in case they show up … gentleman says yes … in some chalet.
Francoise looks in the bar and notices me … they don’t stop
Buy a bottle of milk and a box of cereal … Fruit and Fibre … all that I am in the mood for. Make my way to the campsite … 10 Euros for the night … the young man asks me if it is OK with me to stay in a chalet with another pilgrim who is already there … I agree … he goes on to say he can give me a separate chalet all to myself … I ask if the price is the same … yes … OK … how nice … I wasn’t really in the mood for socializing sems my body needed time to rest and heal … I would eat a bowl of cereal and go lay down … about 6:00PM woke up around 10:00PM … it was getting dark … another small bowl of cereal and back to bed.
At this point so so grateful I had the place to myself. While there were 3 small bedrooms … the place was small and it seemed to me I would not have as relaxed with any company. Woke up around day break … got up around 7:30 AM … still tired … but better.
Izmir Kabob Turkey??? Another story
Feelings are melancholy … why? … should I quit walking … go home? … here we go again!!
Back into the village for my morning coffee …. End up at the same bar as the night before … across from the church. The small events and experiences … another reminder at this bar. Buy my large coffee … a few sips later I have the feeling it’s time to go to the washroom … I remember my experience here the night before … while drinking my coffee the night before I had to go pee too … went to the back of the bar … saw a door that had a sign ‘toilette’ opened the door … another small open area … another door marked ‘toilette’ … go to open the door and find it locked. Assume it is occupied Back to my table … a few minutes later … same routine … same result!!
Seems this particular toilette is a busy place! I think it occurred to me that I may have to ask for the key … didn’t pursue this notion … hang on to my ‘pee’ until later.
All of this is going through my mind before I head to the toilet this morning. As I approach the door at the back of the bar … I see a sign ‘ask for the key to the toilet at the bar’!!!
Now why didn’t I see this last night … I walked through the same door twice and didn’t notice the sign ‘ask for the key … ‘ what a dumb dumb!!
On reflection while walking this morning I think to myself how so often all we need is right there in front of us and we don’t see it … how is this? As Augustine would write … “How is this monstrosity??”
Also reflected on … we must ask for the key to wisdom … “knock and the door will be opened”
As I was leaving another man was going through the same door … he too hadn’t noticed the sign … see I am not the only one!!
He turned towards me and I offered him the key. See … knock and the door will be opened … and … when the door is open for me(for each of us) … we must offer the ‘key’ … the wisdom to those we encounter … hmmm!
Spirits lifted I walk on … another meditation arrives … those mo-ments when thoughts enter our consciousness from ??? … the thought that we wear our ‘state of being’ like we wear our clothes … some-times clothed in drab or dull clothes … sometimes in colorful and bright clothing.
Occurred to me at this particular moment how our ‘state of being’ lights up when we see someone we know … someone we like … someone we love … wow … this seems like a new revelation … you see it on the faces of the people involved … no need for language or expression to confirm … although language and expression for follows the ‘alighting’ of the state of being
Seems to confirm our joy at the times of confirmation that we are not alone … that we belong … that we are OK … that we love and are loved.
All so natural … why are these ‘feelings’ absent when we are alone … even in a crowd we feel alone eg the people at the train station … the absence of the ‘state of cheerfulness’ … why is this so??
Thivier Hotel France et Russie??
The dogs … a small dog and a german shepherd … not as big as the one the other day … yet threatening enough … they are loose … come after me … barking … threatening … Yikes! … double Yikes!! What now??
I hold up my stick and say rather loudly … ‘sun al ou alle cum’ … why Arabic to these dogs who obviously only understand French … no idea … did this a few times … seemed to work!!
After passing the house … I hear a lady calling after them … why did she wait so long? … allow them to frighten me so much … why? … why??
The deer with her fawn running across the road in front of me. The cat being hit by a car … fur flying … oh no! … the cat jumps over the fence anyway … must be pure adrenalin I think to myself … cat must be seriously injured … feel sick to my stomach with this experience.
The 3 turkeys … so loud … so much noise from 3 turkeys … just after the chickens and ducks minding their own business … no squawk-ing!!?? The hen with the 2 chicks … chicks are yellow … notice they have web feet … seems strange … do all young chicks have web feet? … did the chicken adopt the chicks from their duck mother? … did the chicken mate with the duck? … strange thoughts???
The gentleman who has been in the bar since I arrived … just comes up to me and congratulates me on the fact that I am writing … if he only knew what I was writing???
Time to go!
So much for my relaxing 5 kilometre walk. Today is only 17 kilome-tres and I had 12 in when I wrote the above comments. I would be confronted by 2 large unfriendly dogs … again!! … and one of them an oversized German Shepherd … Yikes!!
More later … first my reflections.
I would meet Francoise and Marie-Helene again … they stopped along the road for their lunch break … exchange a few sentences … and off I go. I take with me one of the questions raised …”Why do we work so much and so hard?” Marie-Helene asked.
Francoise and Marie-Helene will have to go home on Sunday … today is Friday.
They are lamenting about having to stop their walk … even with sore … very sore feet … filled with blisters … both of them … they regret they have to stop. Francoise has to go back to work … Marie-Helene is retired.
So I take this question “Why do we work so hard and so much … most of us way beyond providing for the basic necessities(needs not wants) of life for ourselves and our children.
Seems my mind puts this question alongside the experience watching the hen and the 2 chicks with the web feet.
My memory drags out an experience of several years ago … I attended a meeting of the executive etc of Waterloo Maple Software… Dieter also attended … maybe one of the first meetings with exposure to Dieter. Dieter decided to explain the ‘role’ of marketing in business … all businesses … he used a story to make his point … something to the effect … suppose one has a bunch of chickens one wants to sell. The marketplace is flat for chickens … the marketplace wants ‘ducks’.
The challenge seems to be how do we convince the ‘buyers’ … the marketplace … that our chickens are in fact ducks … voila … take a hammer and pound their feet until their feet look like ‘web’ feet!! Et voila you have a ‘duck’.
The story was well received … manifested by the laughter all around … can’t remember if I laughed heartily or not. At the time I thought it was a cute and somewhat effective way of explaining the purpose and benefit of effective marketing.
Today I have a much different perspective … Oh! … what 2 little chicks with web feet can do to my mind! … my imagination!
Today the principle of the story remains the same … how to sell? … and particularly how to sell something people do not want … eg people did not want a chicken with their feet pounded flat … they wanted a duck.
Today the chicken symbolizes ‘truth’ … people want ‘truth’ … they are willing to ay for truth … with money or otherwise.
Truth doesn’t sell … one cannot get rich selling truth … one can get rich selling deception eg snake oil salesman.
We have been sold deception for such a long long time … why this monstrosity??
How many people today live with high levels of stress (which over time diminishes the capability of our immune system … in turn leads to other ailments) because of debt … the mortgage .. the car loan … the credit card debt etcetc
Most of this debt incurred for stuff we don’t really need. Truth doesn’t sell … deception does. As long as I walk this meditation feels good … seems relevant etc
My mind is off busy pulling together the above thoughts and I hear a bark … lots of barking. The camino at this point splits a farm … the cows and the barn on one side … farm buildings on the other … the road in between.
One of the barking dogs is the over grown German Shepherd … my butt still hurts … the memory is still fresh … reinforced with the encounter earlier today. I’m not talking any chances … I quickly scan the entire area looking for safety, protection etc. Whew! … there is a tractor on my left … the driver doesn’t notice me … I approach the tractor … he acknowledges me … I point my stick at the dogs and I suppose the look on my face does the rest.
He stops the tractor, gets out and assures me the dogs won’t bother me … I’m not convinced.
Right about now the big one approaches me … barking menacingly. He starts to go behind me …yikes!... been here before!! … this is what happened the other day when I got bitten in the ass.
I quickly turn around … the bark is more aggressive … the big one is showing off his teeth … Yikes! … double yikes! … and the second dog … no little chiwawa! … a fair sized dog is barking at me too!
The gentleman who got off the tractor had a look on his face that said … Oh! Oh! … this could be trouble … seems my gentle harmless dog really doesn’t like this guy!!
He grabs the dog’s collar … speaks to him and holds on to him. Whew! … that was close … too close!!
As I get about 10 to 20 metres away … the other dog comes running at me … barking aggressively … yikes!! I’m not out of this one yet.
I hear the gentleman who is holding the shepherd scream some orders … I turn around to confirm he is still holding the German Shepherd … yup … thank goodness.
I gingerly keep walking … slowly and I make it safely beyond the farm and the dogs … whew!! … what was this all about? Did the dogs know what I was thinking about and my intentions to write about my thoughts?? Sometimes I wonder … and Dieter … I believe had a large German Shepherd dog … hmmm
To exacerbate this line of thinking I was reminded that 2 pilgrims … whom I had seen a couple of days ago … had walked through this same area less than 5 minutes before … I saw them for the past hour ... always about 50 metres ahead of me … and I didn’t even hear the dogs … why did the dogs not go after them??
Noticed the web feet … couldn’t see the sign on the door.
Visit the church on arrival … first to say thank you for not letting me get bitten on the ass again! … and secondly … to ask … what is going on here??? … no answer.
At least not in humanly audible terms … second reminder of Fatima today … at the church … saw a small statue of Our Lady of Fatima yesterday in the ‘Th ‘ Today a calendar dedicated to Our Lady of Fatima … some written stuff too … talks a bit about the 3rd secret … the implication of Russia couldn’t understand it all … enough though to send me back to my own strong persistent experiences with the apparitions in Fatima
Greta refuge … Marie-Helene and Francoise show up … we plan to eat supper together. Gosh how I hope there are no aggressive dogs in my path ahead.
Data includes June 26, 2000 day I left Lourdes
Truffe … underground mushroom
Chat with Krista … difference between needs and wants … fine line … need to feel like we belong … collective will … therefore want becomes need etc … see Augustine’s comments
Back again … been a couple of days. Enjoyed a nice meal with Marie-Helene and Francoise … pasta with a can of ravioli mixed in … hot and delicious … cheese, pear and chocolate bar too! … Yummy … these hot meals are a real treat.
Coffee at the refuge in the morning … not hungry … say “a plus tarde” to Francoise and Marie-Helene … expecting to see them somewhere along the way to Perigon … there is a restaurant at the 12 kilometre mark … nope … would not see them again. The restaurant at the 12 kilometre mark did not open until 12:00 noon … I arrived at 11:00 AM … Yikes! … all the way with no breaky or 2nd coffee … yuk! 24 kilometres.
Coffee at 21 kilometres … and 2 croissants … yummy. Stop at Maison Diocesane … seems my timing is OK again … office closed at 12:00 PM but the lady who works in the office is there because of some special event … hmmm. I almost don’t stay … el cheapo me … it was 17 Euros for the room, 8 Euros for supper and 3 Euros for breakfast.
While moaning to myself about the prices a feeling of ‘guilt’ slips in … this lady has gone to all the trouble of trying to accommodate me … best I stay. I take the room and pass on the meals … probably should have taken the meals too … wouldn’t eat for another 24 hours or so … except coffee, the fruit the priest gave me and 2 croissants … not bad eh … got me the 24 kilometres to St Astier
Went to mass at 6:00 PM in the small chapel … 5 priests … the youngest around 80 years old it seemed. A colleague (priest) had died very recently … the priest who said the mass noted the empty chair in the front row … he had to hold back tears when he was mentioning the deceased during the mass.
Book small Fatima with children
Started to rain a bit … just enough to keep me in my room …??? Decided to read John’s Gospel …”they will all hate me because I tell them their ways are all wrong” Joe’s email … also spend some time reflecting on how St Paul encouraged the early Christians to set aside the Law of Moses and embrace Christ as Messiah and Redeemer.
And how today seems the Catechism has replaced the Book of the Law(Moses) and not much has changed … subscribe to rituals and ‘laws’ … hearts as cold as stone … not all people.
As Joe said in his email about himself …”I am going around in circles” … seems mankind is going around in circles too … from a spiritual perspective anyway!
Good sleep … very good sleep … very aware of the absolute silence in the early hours of the morning … quite appealing. Wake up somewhat distressed … discouraged … why keep going?? … this feeling lasted most of the day … a bit sad that Marie-Helene and Francoise have gone home … maybe this has something to do with my feelings.
Decide to take a very easy day … walk 8 kilometres to an Augustinian convent or monastery … lodging is available according to the guide book. I go to the Cathedral … just miss 9:00AM mass … visit for a few minutes … trying to deal with my doubt and uncertainty … perhaps in some way looking for clues that I should keep going.
Coquille ashtray at coffee stop.
A gentleman approaches me … St Jacques Compostel? … oui … mois 1999 … will you go all the way? … don’t know … day by day.
When I go to retrieve my backpack at the back of the church ,I notice that a light is shining on it … look for the source of the light … the sun is shining through a window …. Way up … way up near the top on the right hand side of the altar…. Hmmmn … a sign??
Look for internet place… think about sharing my thought a Book of the Law with Joe . It”s closed….. walk on.
Arrive at ‘ ‘ talk to priest about lodging… nope…. An error in the guide…. Figures …. I stay at a place I didn’t know was Augustinian … this one I know is and can’t stay??? … thought this might happen as I was walking here!
Feast of the Profession of Faith … today would be mine too.
The priest is very kind … he gives me a bottle of mineral water a banana an orange and two tomatoes. The banana and orange were great! Oh well! … now I have to walk another 16 kilometres today and there is no refuge in St Astier … in some way I find this exciting … don’t know where I will sleep … maybe under the stars!! … hope it doesn’t rain … lots of clouds looks and feels like it could rain … in fact it did drizzle in the afternoon.
Off and on today my mind kept going back to the priests’ comments in Limoges … at one point he asked me if I was doing the Camino Assisi ?? … St Francis …??
At another point when he was lamenting about the empty seminary … he said … since the War of Therese …??? Got me thinking so much has happened since Ste Therese died … a phenomenal century … 2 world wars … automobile etc etc hmmmmm
Happy to find the bar open in ‘ ‘ coffee and 2 croissants … large coffee!! Yummy!!
Should be OK now for the remaining 7 or 8 kilometres. Walking along I stop to look at an old mill … some people walking about a gentleman asks me if I would like something to drink … on this camino I am more inclined to accept these kind offers … I accept.
Interesting mill … vintage 1300’s out of operation since 1966 … very nice people. A lady Mrs Boutin offers me a place to sleep … wow!! What a pleasant surprise. The next 3 kilometres go pretty easy as I reflect on this most recent blessing … I learn that today is the Feast of the Moulins … a day to celebrate the mills of the past . I remember Ste Bernadette … her dad operated a mill … of course I made a connec-tion … who knows?? … the thought is very pleasant and quite mov-ing.
Mussidan
Just arrived 20 minutes ago. Stopped at the church … the first one that was opened since I left this morning. Had the feeling along the way that I should spend some time in a church … don’t know why … doesn’t happen often.
Only in the church a few minutes and mother nature calls … I have to pee. I apologize that I have to leave and say to myself … Ill come back.
Stopped at the first bar , put my backpack down and realized that I didn’t have my guide sheet … must have left it at the church … smiled to myself … seems just in case I would change my mind … He had me forget my guide sheet … pretty much ensuring that I would come back to the church! … hmmm! … sometimes He has such a gentle sense of humour. I’m sure I would not have come right back if I hadn’t forgot-ten my guide sheet … would have went on to the refuge.
Learned at the church that July 16th is the Feast of Our Lady of Carmel … the date of my return flight.
OK … I’m back and I am writing … my 3 lady friends are here too! … they all have happy faces … Joan of Arc a bit more serious look though !
Mr and Mrs Boutin … Nadine and jean Marie were wonderful!! … I was a bit timid about staying with them … my nature I suppose. They made me feel so welcome … Nadine insisted that I think of it as home. She cooked a wonderful supper … barbecue steak … yummy. She gave me some special oil for my feet … some organic stuff.
Nadine is very knowledgeable and serious about bodily health. They had recently been to Egypt … we chatted a bit about the virtual disappearance of an advanced society with superior knowledge … manifested by the construction and alignment of the pyramids … a mystery??
Nadine and Jean Marie hope to walk the Chemin St Jacques some day … for the moment Nadine is working … Jean Marie is retired from Bata Shoes … a familiar name.
Nadine left early in the morning for work … Jean Marie had a wonder-ful breakfast prepared when I got up … had a coffee and a piece of cake and hit the road.
A somewhat difficult walk today despite being recharged … physi-cally and spiritually with the unexpected generosity and hospitality of Nadine and Jean Marie.
Will go to the refuge soon … get some rest … maybe buy some grub for supper later.
Bitten in the ass again … figuratively … hopefully this wound will heal more quickly!
Very nice refuge … nice people … certainly would not have gone back to the church … the refuge is 1.5 kilometres away.
Went to buy some stuff foe supper and for the road tomorrow … bought too much! … should never go to the store hungry … when will I learn this lesson.
The bite came on the way out of the store … asked again about inter-net access … turns out there was a kiosk near the store … first I lost my one Euro … didn’t read the instructions before I put my money in … just like me! … fools rush in … 2nd attempt it worked … very awkward to operate … all touch screen.
Bugged that I keep wanting to check my email and than nothing but disappointment(usually) when I do check. Today to boot I lost another 10 Euros at the store … Yuk … I am so disappointed … almost angry with myself for being so concerned about $$ … if I am not so con-cerned why not just go home!!
Quite a downer … seems my spirits were lifted this afternoon with the experience at the church and now in the tank! Why up and down so fast??? I will go for another coffee ‘to lick my wounds’ … see what tomorrow brings.
Phillip et Francoise Persohn
Lubata _33430_Sauviac
Back again … been several days … perhaps almost a week since I have written anything … don’t know why the tongue of my pen dried up! Perhaps the experiences noted above … the email from Joe … Natalie … who knows? … who cares?? I will write what my memory brings to mind … no notes!
Quiet night at the private refuge in Mussidan … Claire and Eves and their son … didn’t connect for any conversation. Claire brought me 2 crepes in the evening … saved them for the road the next day … they were delicious
Arrived in Port Ste Foy … another private refuge … in the back yard … a separate building … very comfortable. Nobody home when I arrived. M showed up about an hour later … whew!!
Learned in the church about being the Feast of St John the Baptist before arriving at ADP
Refuge above the Office du Tourism in Pellegrue … checked my email … only email was from Natalie
Arrived in La Reole … went to the first bar ‘Gypsy’. No refuge in this town … felt a bit uneasy about ADP … went to Office du Tourism … even though man at the bar told me it would likely be closed … it was still open … very kind lady … offered to call Michel Moreau … he was home and agreed to put me up … despite my late arrival without notice … I understand much better now why ADP families prefer notice … they provide supper as well … what at treat!
Michel and Odette were so kind … so accommodating. Odette did my laundry … Michel called for lodging for the next night in Bazas … without asking! Michel suggested I pass by the Abbaye du Rivet … he draws a map of the route … tells me about the priest from Canada staying at the Abbaye.
Need to check to see if I went to Monsegur before La Reole. Just before arriving at St Ferme … the Abbaye I was told I should visit … there was a road to the right with a camino sign indicating I should turn right here. I looked ahead at the Abbaye … about 100 metres down the road … checked my ‘feelings’ to see if I should visit … nope … down the road.
A few kilometres later I am lost … seriously lost. Can’t find where I am on the map … not real interested in going back … remember now why there was no way I was going back. Just after I made the turn mentioned above … 2 nasty dogs came after me.
Fortunately their owners were in the fields trimming the grape vines and called them off!! A few minutes later it started to rain … I thought to myself … the dogs will still be outside and the owners will be in the house and unable to protect me! … no way I’m going back to face those dogs! Walked on … eventually decide I have to ask somebody. Talked to a young man in a car who stopped at the intersection … he couldn’t tell me where I was on the map but suggested I head for Monswegur … this village is on the map … not on the route … 5 kilometres out of the way … no way!!
I walk up to the farm house up the road … stand at the gate and yell bonjour!. No response … start to walk away … hear the voice of an older lady. Whew! … she did hear me … explained my dilemma to this lady … she stayed on the porch … suggested the same thing the young man at the intersection mentioned. Not great news! … seems I have no choice.
Head back to the intersection resigned to the fact that I have to head towards Monsegur … yuk!
Another car comes along … I wave the S.O.S. sign … he stops … very helpful. He shows me where I am on the map … yikes!! … how did I get so far off the route?
Yup!! … have to walk on to Monsegur and than back track from there to the route. Think to myself, at least I will be able to get a coffee in Monsegur … always a bright side eh!
Arrive in Monsegur … decided to go to the church first … before my coffee … yikes! … what’s going on here!
Pleasant surprises at the church … learn it is the Feast of St John the Baptiste. Also this church has very unusual statues … King David with a harp, Moses directly across from hom with the stone tablets, St Louis de Monfort I presume Ste Anne and St Joachim … Mary’s parents. I really enjoy the visit and wonder to myself about the mysterious way I arrived here.
Psalm 139 Isaih 49,1-6 Acts 13 22-26 Luke 1 57-66
Several times in the morning I remember saying to myself … no way I am going through Monsegur … 5 kilometres out of the way just to get a coffee … and here I am!!
Lost in the ‘wilderness’ on St John the Baptist day … hmmmm!
Leaving Monsegur I see a sign indicating 15 kilometres to La Reole and 4.5 kilometres back to the ‘route’. I take about 2 seconds to consider my options … no way O am walking 4.5 kilometres to the route and than another 15 kilometres to La Reole … not that dedicated to the ‘route’ … decide to take the shortest route … big surprise eh!
June 29, 2004 Mont de Marsen
At Michel and Audette’s about the Cathedral St John the Baptiste in Bazas. Michel showed me his garden … he built a miniature grotto … Our Lady of Lourdes statue … the Pyrenees and several other historic sites. He also built a miniature ‘mock up’ of Jacob’s well … this impressed me the most … he had built a visual and physical connection between Jacob(Israel) and Jesus … the Old Testament and the New Testament.
Seems I am being drawn to know that the 2 are inseparable … Christianity is simply an extension of Judaism … seems to me we have not emphasized this ‘reality’ sufficiently in our teaching of the Catholic faith. Jacob’s well and the 2 interpretations of the blessing of Jacob by Isaac … Louis de Montfort and David???
Michel walked me out of La Reole … to help me find the ‘route’ beyond the city … he is so kind and generous.
I walked rather briskly this day … perhaps again carried on the ‘wings of fantasy’ … somehow I developed high expectations concerning my intended visit to L’Abbeye du Rivet … don’t know why??
Perhaps the Canadian priest Father Emanuel … the name Emanuel conjured up memories … the meaning of the word Emanuel … God is with us … the name to be given to Mary’s child … Jesus!
The name in Sandra’s dream … she was to name her child Emanuel. This feeling of something exciting is going to happen continued to build along the way … about 15 kilometres from La Reole.
The gentleman who stopped me to say Bonjour and enquire about my ‘journey’ … he suggested I visit the Abbaye du Rivet … seemed to confirm that I was doing the right thing … going off the beaten path … the prescribed route to visit this Abbaye … seems strange when I write about it
The day before I wouldn’t walk the extra 100 metres to visit the Abbaye at St Ferme … and subsequently got lost and walked several kilometres extra that day … go figure!
Arrived at the Abbaye … on entering the first thing I noticed was a poster of Ste Therese of Lisieux … spotted it from 50+ metres away … Raison de Vivre Lorsque la vie ne tient plus qu’a un fil: Celui de la confiance et de l’amour.
Asked myself … was this why I was excited this morning …
Met Father Pierre Emanuel … from Sherbrook … very gentle and kind man … offered me something to eat which I declined. Asked him about requesting a mass … he referred me to the ‘sisters’
Don’t know why I wanted to have a mass said for my family (Gauthier and Morley) at the Abbaye … first time I have ever done this … have lit a few candles along the way from time to time yet this day I felt a strong urge to request a mass … hmmmm.
Also learned a little history … believe the Abbaye is of the Cistercian Order … St Bernard’s influence dominates this order … St Bernard is mentioned in St Louis de Monfort’s book True Devotion to Mary several times.
Seems he also had a very strong confidence and devotion to the Virgin Mary … apparently experienced one or more apparitions of the Virgin Mary.
Learned that St Bernard’s help was sought for the second Crusade and that he gave his first homily concerning the Crusade on March 31, 1146 in Vezelay … hmmm this little piece of history was uplifting … not that I support the crusades of yesterday … yet … somehow feel I will be starting my own ‘crusade’ soon … not with swords though!!
Once again, nothing remotely close to the fantasies conjured up in my mind on my walk to the Abbaye today happened at the Abbaye … nonetheless the poster of Ste Therese and the info regarding St Ber-nard was pretty exciting.
Tried to call ADP from the internet place 5:55 –no answer- supposed to call a partir de 18:00
Walked the additional 11 kilometres to Bazas … felt strong .. checked email … had coffee … learned of big big festival in Bazas this week and particularly this weekend … this is Friday … Feast of St John the Baptiste
Found the Cathedral … quite impressive … was still sitting in the church when Phillipe arrived. He drove to his house out in the country about 5 kilometres away
First pilgrim to stay with Francoise and Phillipe. Francoise came home shortly after … wonderful supper … and conversation. Great sleep … Phillipe had to wake me up at 8:30 AM … Yikes!!
Phillipe showed me his shop on the way back to town … the chemin goes right by his shop. Phillipe called to get me a copy of the map for today … I had left mine in the grocery store in ‘ ‘ the lady who brought the copy of the map asked me if I had plans for lodging this night … she suggested the ADP a few kilometres past Captieux … and mentioned that the individual required notice … gently reminding me that if I planned to stay there I should call now.
I politely declined … thinking to myself that the past couple of nights were quite enjoyable … even though one was prearranged. I decided I would leave some room for God and the Virgin Mary today … trusting that God would provide according to His will!!
Now that the experience is behind me … next time I may be more receptive to planning ahead!!
The experience ahead … the next 24 hours … will stay with me for a long … long time. Almost seems like I was set up … that what was about to happen was part of the plan for some time now???
The walk to Captieux was OK … even stopped for coffee about half way … “ “ Arrived around 3:00PM … followed the yellow arrows … just outside town the road we were walking on was fenced off … closed.
I thought to myself … this is strange … I am not welcome here! Decided to cut across the field … not a good idea! Found I had to cross a deep ditch … and on this side of the ditch there were plenty of those shrubs with large prickly thorns … yup … got cut up a bit … of course … I would be wearing my shower sandals and not my boots at this point … not very smart!
A few scars on my arms, my knees and my feet and I am across the ditch … whew!! This experience alone should have put me on the defensive!!
After my coffee I went to the church … it was locked up but had a large porch area that provided some relief from the sun … today is hot!! Kind of settled in … thinking to myself I may even spend the night here … nope! … an hour or so later a lady came by and tried to open the church door … she mentioned to me that there would be a wedding at the church at 5:30PM … so much for hanging around here.
Off to the grocery store to buy some grub … spent 13 Euro … yikes … a small package of Italian salami cost 4.3 Euros … would never had bought it if I had known! Now I have to find some shady spot where I can eat. Wander around … heading out of town … find some shade at a local cemetery and a stone bench. While eating I notice some space between the shrubs and the outside wall of the cemetery … seems to be a good spot to rest … maybe spend the night.
Pull out my bedroll and lay down to rest. Half hour or so later some people pull up and park their car on the other side of the shrubs. They go into the cemetery without noticing me(I think) Seems I can’t stay here either … poop!
Back into town … sit on a bench across from the church … still some people standing outside the church from the wedding. Start thinking to myself … maybe I should head out … go for a night walk and when I am tired enough … sleep under the stars …
Go for a coffee and ‘hit the road’. After a few hours walking … mostly along the abandoned railway line … through a forest … I spot a car on the trail a ways ahead … I’m thinking … what a blessing if I can get some water … my bottle is almost empty. As I approach the place where the car is parked I hear children’s voices … super … some water!!
About 20 metres from the house I notice 2 dogs lying on the ground in front of the house … Oh! Oh! … I start to whistle thinking I should not surprise them … I should let them know I am coming … not a good idea!!
The dogs don’t move … as though either they don’t hear me whistling or they could care less. At this very moment several adults come walking from the other side of the house … whew! … I stop and point at the dogs. One of the men makes hand motions to another to close the gate … about the same instant the gate is closed … one of the dogs notices me and goes beserk! … the gentleman who closed the gate says to me … lucky he(the dog) didn’t see you … Yikes! And here I was whistling to let the dogs know I was here. This dog looked vicious … and likely was or they wouldn’t have closed the gate so fast … talk about close … if I had come by here in the dark … Yikes!!
This incident energized me and I walked on rather briskly … seems fear energizes!!
Several kilometres down the trail … deeper into the forest … almost dark … I spot 3 deer … look like deer anyway … grazing in this open field. The fields look great for sleeping … I am thinking I will stop for the night. Walk about …
July 8, 2004
Been a while … not that nothing worth writing about … just not in the mood. Why today? Why now? … don’t know … who cares!
Philosophical thoughts only today …
The human species conquered ‘hunger’ and ‘security’ a long, long time ago, likely with the development of community … tribe … clan. Two heads are better than one … 4 hands can do more than 2. They developed agriculture and food storage … therefore the fear of hunger overcome. They built or occupied ‘safe shelters’ … caves … fortresses … therefore fear of the unknown … or simply … secure shelter.
Both of these efforts were likely driven by motivation for survival … innate animal instinct. First instance of collective will.
Somewhere along the way they also developed the notion of ‘owner-ship’ … the doctrine of ‘private property’. This notion of ownership was extended beyond the material world … land … possessions etc … to mate, cultures, religion, belief system.
All these dimensions built into a state of ‘ownership’ … socially programmed into the members of the community, tribe … clan … the ‘collective will’
Hierarchy also became an element of ‘ownership’.
So now the instinct of ‘survival’ was extended to the more global sense … man must not only survive as a person … all elements of the community must also survive … religion etc … must be kept socially programmed into new members and defended. For example, the 12 tribes of Israel … citizenship … membership was by blood only … all others were ‘gentiles’ … outsiders ... not welcome.
The Roman Empire found they could make money selling ‘citizen-ship’. Seems evident that the notion of ‘ownership’ and the doctrine of private property … including intellectual property … the thoughts from our minds have done much for the advancement of mankind and civilization.
The question that begs to be asked is …”At what price?” … where is this taking us as a species.
Historically it seems that regional civilizations … eg Egypt, Roman, Greek advanced to a certain point and than crashed.
Today seems we are moving towards a ‘global civilization’ … where cultures around the world have adopted … willingly … or by force … the ‘western way’.
One could argue that the next ‘peak’ of a civilization … will occur at a global level … and consequently the ‘crash’ will likewise be global???
One can see the consequences of an ‘oil shortage’ … what will happen when there is a water shortage … eg will Canada be able to maintain its’ sovereignty … its’ ownership of an identity … of course not!
Seems the only plausible alternative is to destroy, cancel, wipe out the notion of ownership … doctrine of personal property. In my view, this is … the basic message of Jesus of Nazareth …’love your neighbor’ … love your enemy.
Seems to me as long as the notion of ownership and personal property exists … this dimension of civilization will keep us in the same mental attitude as the ‘stone age man’. We will not evolve/transform.
Raises the basic question … if mankind is unable to do this voluntarily … will it be imposed … Sodom and Gomorrah!!
How to grow a ‘collective will’ to make this happen?? Seems count-less efforts in so many geographies and over so many years … especially the last 2,000 have failed.
Lord, please help!! Elijah … how long will you people continue to limp along on two opinions??
Ste Marie de Eunate
The owner of the albergue in ‘ ‘ suggested I visit this church … she gave me instructions on how to get here before … perhaps in 2000 and 2002.
Pamplona … Fiesta de San Fermin … what a delightful and colorful example of ‘collective will’ … the perpetuation of an ‘identity’ … a ‘belonging’ … that part of our being beyond our physical self.. The celebration, the citizenship manifested by the clothing … white pants T shirt and red scarf and or red belt around the waist.
The notion of ‘ownership’ seems to apply … the peoples own their identity … their culture … their celebrations beliefs etc … and these same peoples feel compelled to defend their ownership … ensure survival for the next generation.
This natural inclination to survive seems to provide the ‘will’ to defend at all costs … even at the price of war … eg the Basque terror-ism. Seems to me the same phenomenon is at work in all ‘collective wills’ … tribes … clans … peoples eg the North American Native Indian … the song Cherokee Nation … we will return! The Jewish peoples etc etc
Seems to me this phenomenon is also a barrier to the evolution of mankind … there can be no true ‘brotherly love’ … love of neighbor … tolerance.
Fyodor Dostoyevsky The Brothers Karmazov express in but three human phrases, the entire future history of the world and mankind …
Those three questions that were actually put to you that day by the mighty and clever Spirit in the wilderness?
For it is as if in those three questions there is conjoined into a single whole and prophesied the entire subsequent history of mankind…
Look you see those stones in that naked burning hot wilderness? Turn them into loaves and mankind will go trotting after you like a flock, grateful and obedient , though ever fearful that you may take away your hand and that your loaves may cease to come their way.
At last they themselves will understand that freedom and earthly bread is sufficiency for all are unthinkable together, for never, never will they be able to share between themselves.
Had you accepted the loaves you would have responded to the universal and age old anguish of man, both as an individual creature and as the whole of mankind namely the question … “Before whom should I bow down?”
It is this need for a community of bowing down that has been the principal torment of each individual person and of mankind as a whole since the earliest ages. For the sake of a universal bowing down they have destroyed one another with the sword …”give bread and man will bow down, for nothing is more undisputed than bread”
The appetite of the eyes can never be satisfied … give them bread … money, material goods status derived from the possession of goods money etc, companionship, friendship, sex etc etc … who has not bowed down … compromised their peace of mind for some bread or the promise of some bread in whatever form it takes.
Road to Estella … Casa Julio
What a change from last night … from discouraged … tired …sad … lonely etc to once again a feeling of being energized … new thoughts … new acquaintances etc … gift at Albergue … Templar Cross … Franciscan Cross (Pau … Tau)
Met Allison from Australia … she mentioned parable of the sower … I had been meditating on this same parable a few minutes earlier
Met Decklyn at Casa Julio … he was just leaving … shared the inspiration he left me with the other day … his response to my sheep philosophy … bring me to food … security etc … I’ll follow … no problem
This comment came up alongside the sentence in Dostoyevsky words … “ give man bread and he will bow down to you.”
Another instance of bread … the cult of romantic love … proven to be a deception given the success rate for marriage eg in North America
Allison’s comments re sheep … from someone who studied sheep … sheep are afraid of change … bring sheep who have been grazing in a certain pasture for a long time to a new pasture and they may starve to death … pasture smells different … perceived fear!
My thoughts this morning … transformation knows no geography, race, color, creed or religion etc … it happens on an individual basis. The process is usually long, difficult and painful … like childbirth … labor can be long … analogy of main stream society on a fast moving train … born on the train … life is short … passes quickly … die on the train … some during their voyage on the train look out the window … all is a blur … by the time you try to focus your eyes on something in particular …. It’s gone … train has moved on.
The process of transformation starts when one is thrown off the train … the train does not make any stops and invite passengers to get off if they like … quite the opposite … seems much effort is expended to keep people on the train and keep them looking out the window or from wanting to jump off … perceived fear … fear of the unknown … fear of change … fear of life outside the comfort zone.
After being thrown off the train … the parable of the sower kicks in … some land on rocky ground and the birds eat the seed … some start to awaken and the weeds (anxieties, worries, loneliness etc) choke them
Augustine’s comments … like waking up from a deep sleep … a comfortable sleep … one knows one should get up and get at whatever needs doing … yet we roll over in bed and say to ourselves … only a few more minutes etc … make me chaste but not just yet …
St Francis … many say he is the most ‘Christ’ like person since the time of Christ … one of his messages to mankind … by his lifestyle … not by his words (actions speak louder than words) … “abandon the notion of ownership … of private property … of private intellectual property … St Francis persistently refused to accept land and buildings as a gift … to use as a shelter (home) for his followers … he persistently refused to write an ‘order’ … a ‘law’ for his followers … he refused to join the church hierarchy etc
After his death … his wishes were not perpetuated … his successors did not have the strength … grace to heed his wishes … they got buildings etc and somewhere along the way wrote a ‘constitution’
Seems to be a rerun of Christ and His apostles … shortly after the death of the apostles … the followers (Christians) fell back on the old way … ownership … law … privilege etc
Allison’s comment … there has always remained a ‘spark’ … some-one to carry the torch … e.g. the Saints … Gandhi etc
Allison’s comment … many people around the world have endured the transformation … they simply have not connected yet to form a ‘collective will’ and help to grow the community and change the direction of ‘mankind’ … hmmm … encouraging words!!
Los Arcos
Platos’ allegory of cave and shadows … we see what we see … each according to his or her uniqueness … both with the senses and with the ‘inner eye’ … our perception is our reality … no more … no less.
Since we seem to be naturally inclined to impose our ‘view’ of life and the cosmos on others … those in authority perpetuate their vision or limited vision … it becomes a ‘collective will’ through social programming … not that it is truth … it’s just the way it has always been. Nonetheless persons are born with different than mainstream vision … eg philosophers and from time to time influence or redirect main-stream programs … eg Socrates Moses Jesus
At the time many of these people are considered insane … naturally because if they are considered sane … by default mainstream society would be insane … a difficult pill to swallow
The ducks and the bread … the memory of Easter Sunday Julia and the money … the feeling that this step is complete … the picture is finished … what to do next??? Need to be patient and wait for the door to open!!
Augustine … serve the creation rather than the Creator(Romans 1:21-5)
Serve (bow down) to the stuff (bread) rather than the Creator(God)
Want more and more stuff … less and less Creator (God)
Believe we can be our own power pile up more stuff … yuk!!!
St Augustine … “I had my back to the light and my face towards the things which are illuminated. So my face, by which I was enabled to see the things lit up, was not illuminated Echo of Plotinus
Faustus “I was not interested in the decoration of the vessel in which his discourse was served up but in the knowledge put before me to eat by this Faustus held in high regard among the Manicheans
Paris - Getting Started
My brother in law John (Judy's husband) drops me off at the airport. John too has been so kind to me ... particularly during the past 7-8 years. I have an hour or so before the flight leaves ... not much time to get into any trouble. Hmmm! I check in and shortly afterwards I find a place inside the airport where smoking is allowed.
I think to myself ... what a treat! I can sit, have a coffee and a few cigarettes ... my favorite pastime ... what a boring life eh! As I go to open the door to the smoking room ... I notice a note on the door ..."minimum purchase $5.00!
Yikes! Much too extravagant for me ... I decide to buy a coffee at the Second Cup and head outside for my coffee and cigarette. I just light my cigarette and a man approaches me ... he asks me for a cigarette ... I oblige. We start to chat ... he tells me that he has had a terrible day ... lost his passport (he is from Ireland) ... his money etc.
He learned that if he could get to Ottawa he could get a new passport within a couple of hours. Unfortunately he did not have the $60.00 it would cost to take the train to Ottawa. A feeling of 'fear' started to swell up inside me. Thinking to myself. Oh no! He is going to ask me for 60 bucks ... yikes!
My fear was well founded. Eventually, first with body language and later with words he gently asked me if I could help him. I tried to escape this dilemma with the excuse that I was on my way to Europe and only had a few euros in my pocket. While chatting my memory was retrieving those times when I was stranded somewhere and there always seemed to be someone there to help me ... but $60.00 ... ouch!! Eventually he progressed to the question of a card ... one of those plastic cards that give us access to cash ... almost anywhere. Today that 'almost anywhere’ could be a curse!!
I was trapped! How could I convince him I had no cash and no card that would provide me with access to cash!! It would be hardly credi-ble that I would be on my way to Europe with no cash and no ‘plastic money’!
He knew the location of the cash machine in the airport. This should have tipped me off that something strange was happening! ... didn't even get a chance to finish my cigarette! ... and I lost track of my coffee somewhere along the way to the cash machine!!
My plan to enjoy one last cigarette and coffee before getting on the airplane had evaporated. While the cash withdrawal was in progress he was telling me how he actually needed $65.00 and one thing lead to another. Before I pressed the 'OK' button ... the $60.00 grew to $100.00 ... yikes!!! And I was too cheap to spend the $5.00 to smoke inside the airport.
That'll teach me eh!! I left him with my email address ... don't know if I will see the $100.00 again. Oh well! I remembered my faith ... it's not about trusting this person or that person ... it's about trusting God! After repeating these few words to myself a few times ... I recover and I am almost grateful for having had the opportunity to help someone ... almost!
Just before boarding the airplane I recalled a dream I had a few nights before. I was stranded in some foreign country ... with no passport ... no money etc. Was it me in the dream or this man from Ireland? I get on the plane ... a young lady is in the seat assigned to me ... she quickly apologizes and moves to the seat in the next row directly behind me. The last of the passengers board and I am still alone in this block of 3 seats ... Yuppie!!! I will be able to lay down and sleep during the flight ... perhaps a reward for helping the man from Ireland.
Nope!!!
Before I finish my supper a man from the other side of the plane comes to sit in the seat at the end of my row. What? I thought it was an unwritten law of long haul flights. When someone is alone in a block of seats he or she intends to lie down and sleep. As a matter of fact I remember participating in a game of sorts ... to see who can get to an empty row of seats first?
So this gentleman makes himself comfortable ... I figure he is here for a long time ... not a good time! Poop! Now about the lady who was sitting in my seat when I boarded the plane, who is now sitting directly behind me. Seems she intends to work during the flight ... her table is down and she is doing some sort of paperwork ... Yuk! Now I can't even put my seat back! ... What's going on?
In a matter of a few minutes I go from the excitement of thinking I will be able to lay down and go to sleep ... to being compelled to attempt sleep with my seat in the upright position. I feel obliged to accommo-date the young lady behind me who is trying to do some work ... poop! ... Double poop!! These are not good omens so far eh!!!
Several hours later, the gentleman who scooped my sleeping area returns to his original seat for breakfast and the young lady behind me lays down to sleep just before breakfast. Yup! This young lady had a block of 3 seats all to herself ... all night! Now why didn't the gentle-man sit in her row? His seat was directly across ... who knows eh! Life can be full of mystery sometimes!!
The airplane lands safely at Charles de Gaulle airport. I haven't had much ... if any ... sleep. What's next??
Arrival in Paris
Since nothing happened on the way ... to alter my course that is ... I decide it's off to Vezelay!
I'm feeling OK ... eventually find the train station ... it's in the airport. Yet finding it is no small accomplishment for me ... I get lost in a parking lot.
I go round and round trying to find transportation to this place called Vezelay ... directed from one line-up to another ... no one seems to know where it is ... and I have the impression it is in southern France, which is completely wrong by the way!
I'm surprisingly patient ... I decide to enquire again about a bus ... to southern France. The young lady at the information kiosk tells me there are no buses that go to southern France. Seems the only public transport to southern France is 'train'. Seems odd to me and of course I don't believe her ... turns out she is right though.
I am still wandering around aimlessly ... spot the Sheraton Hotel ... figure there must be someone in there who can help me. In I go.
Now imagine this picture ... me with my backpack ... my walking stick ... my funny looking hat ... walking into this 5 star hotel. By all societal norms I should be immediately escorted to the door.
I plead my case with the first employee I see ... he gives me a friendly smile and suggests I go see the concierge ... so good so far. I hang around the concierge's desk for several minutes ... he is busy with paying clients.
My turn eventually comes ... he listens attentively to my plea ... Yup ... attentively! What a pleasant surprise ... a better reception than at all the other enquiries ...And "bingo" ... he has heard of Vezelay. Tells me he knows the region well He gives me instructions and a map. I must find my way to a train station in Paris via the subway. A bit intimidating ... but I finally have some information.
He also mentions Nevers ... unprompted ... in our conversation. I take this as a positive omen. I find my way to the train station ... buy my ticket ... and have a couple of hours to wait. There are so many people in this train station ... so many!
I settle down in a less populated area ... eventually lay down resting my head on my backpack. All the while there is this lady who is trying to use the pay telephones right beside me. There are 3 pay telephones and she wanders from one to the other ... going through some ritual. She is cursing the telephones and the telephone company. I think I picked up some new swear words in French.
She was doing this when I arrived and she was still doing it when I left ... about 3 hours later ... what tenacity! ... What persistence!
The people around would watch her and listen to her. Their response varied ... some laughed ... some discussed her behaviour with the stranger standing beside them ... some frowned. Reminds me of something you might see on 'candid camera' or 'just for laughs'.
I get up wanting to go for a coffee. I haven't eaten since the meal on the airplane. Scanning the menu ... small espresso 1.25(euros), large espresso 1.95 and espresso with milk 2.00 euros. I don't like black coffee ... but it seems I am too cheap to spend the extra few pennies! I decide on the 1.25 small espresso coffee.
I turned around, headed for a stool where people put their coffee and elbows! Still turning ... haven't completed the 180 degree turn yet ... I'm approached by a young lady with her hand out. She is asking me if I have any 'small' money. Wonder what she means by 'small' money?
Here we go again! This is the gentleman from Ireland all over again. Too cheap to buy milk for my coffee and here I must dig into my pockets and empty them of all the coins! Paying for the milk would have been much cheaper.
Thinking to myself ... what am I supposed to learn with these experiences? First it happened at the airport in Canada and now at the train station in Paris. I haven't even arrived at my destination (Vezelay). I figure it must be something to the effect ..."spend it or I will take it away from you"
After some more sober refection I come up with something better. Here I am, headed to Europe in the financial condition sometimes written on bathroom walls ...
Here I sit broken hearted
Paid a dime and only farted
Yesterday I took a chance
Saved a dime and shit my pants
Or perhaps more politely ... "I don't have a pot to piss in”. Yet I am hopeful that I will somehow survive. In order to survive, I will be the recipient of someone else's generosity ... so I better be prepared to be generous myself! Who knows eh ... we will have to wait and see.
While I was dozing ... or almost dozing ... my head buried in my backpack ... hat over my head ... I felt a hand tapping on my shoulder. I turned around ... still in a bit of a daze ... seems the sleepless night was catching up with me ... and found myself looking down the barrel of a rifle.
Trying to focus ... I make out a soldier bent down beside me holding his rifle and in my peripheral vision I could see 2 more soldiers. Oh! Oh! This doesn't feel so good! The memory of almost being arrested in Bethlehem in December (another story) was flashing through my mind.
After my eyes were able to focus enough to see his face ... the anxiety I felt quickly faded. He was wearing a friendly look. He asked me in a very friendly tone if I was OK ... I smiled and replied ... yes ... a bit tired though.
The time to catch my train arrives ... whew!!
While waiting for the train a public announcement is made about some disturbance in the area of Nevers causing a delay for the train arriving from Nevers. The same announcement was posted several times on the large electronic bulletin board ... hmmm ... maybe someone knows I am on my way to Nevers.
Paris - Meditations While Waiting for the Train
There are so many people, coming and going, each pursuing their own agenda, carrying or dragging their personal baggage ... physical and emotional). Occurred to me that mankind has done a pretty good job in the of maintaining order. Maintaining conditions where people; men, women and young adults feel safe to venture outside their homes ... to the train station for example Vis a Vis in a jungle where each person is left to themselves.
The strong imposing their individual agenda and wishes on the weak ... etc I am intrigued that I feel so positive about 'civilization' right now ... where did all the unfavourable thoughts and opinions go? My sleepy eyes observed the faces of seemingly countless people today.
I always find it interesting how most often our facial expressions portray our state of being, particularly if we are pursuing our own agenda and not involved in drama or theatrics to influence the outcome or opinion of others. A happy face seems to stand out in a crowd - not so many of them! Sad faces likewise!
A face projecting a state of carefree cheerfulness ... a phrase from Augustine's book "Confessions" I have reprinted it here...
"How unhappy I was and how conscious you made me of my misery, on that day when I was preparing to deliver a panegyric on the emperor! In the course of it I would tell numerous lies and for my mendacity would win the good opinion of people who knew it to be untrue.
The anxiety of the occasion was making my heart palpitate and perspire with the destructive fever of the worry, when I passed through a Milan street and noticed a destitute beggar.
Already drunk, I think, he was joking and laughing. I groaned and spoke with the friends accompanying me about the many sufferings that result from our follies. In all our strivings such as those efforts that were than worrying me, the goads of ambition impelled me to drag the burden of my unhappiness with me, and in dragging it to make it even worse; yet we had no goal other than to reach a carefree cheerfulness.
That beggar was already there before us, and perhaps we would never achieve it. For what he had gained with a few coins, obtained by begging, that is the cheerfulness of temporal felicity, I was going about to reach by painfully twisted and roundabout ways. True joy he had not. But my quest to fulfill my ambitions was much falser.
There was no question that he was happy and I racked with anxiety. He had no worries; I was frenetic, and if anyone had asked me if I would prefer to be merry or to be racked with fear, I would have answered 'to be merry'.
Yet if he asked whether I would prefer to be a beggar like that man or the kind of person I then was, I would have chosen to be myself, a bundle of anxieties and fears. What an absurd choice! Surely it could not be the right one. For I ought not to have put myself above him on the ground of being better educated, a matter from which I was deriving no pleasure.
My education enabled me to seek to please men, not to impart to them any instructions, but merely to purvey pleasure. For that reason you 'broke my bones' (Ps. 41: 11;50: 10) with the rod of your discipline(Ps. 22: 4)."
Carefree is a word that speaks volumes. This condition is most evident in toddlers ... children of the age where they don’t worry about where their next meal will come from. My memory won't open the drawers of my mind storing my particular memories of this period in my life. Those times in my life when 'carefree cheerfulness' prevailed ... now I can only imagine.
"State of Carefree Cheerfulness" ... the word 'state' infers a finite space ... a geography ... bound with outer limits beyond which is outside the 'state' and within which exists the 'state' For example there are 51 states in the USA. Seems to me there are more than 51 'states of being' ... the sad state ... the sorry state ... the happy state etc
How do we migrate from state to state? How do we stay in a 'preferred' state? What are the conditions, terms, influences etc that form the 'railway tracks' that transport us from state to state? Are all within our control? Why? Why not?
How do we protect the boundaries? Who are the 'soldiers' on guard at the frontiers of our current 'state of being'; preventing the entrance of 'contaminants' or 'enemies' into our current 'state of being'.How are these 'soldiers' nourished? ... Strengthened? ... Trained? How do we stop them from going A-wall and allowing our 'state' to change? For example form 'happy' to 'lethargic’.
Arrival in Vezelay
After almost missing the transfer from the train to a bus ... the bus stopped at Avallons. All passengers disembarked so I figured this is the end of the line. Decide to confirm my assumption with the bus driver … nope! Vezelay is the next stop. I am the only passenger continuing to Vezelay ... hmmm! Seems to confirm my feeling that much of my 'journey' is destined to be 'solo' ... me, myself and I!
Arrive in Vezelay … nervous feeling in my stomach …is this place the famous starting point for the Chemin St Jacques in France. While I’m pulling my backpack out of the storage area of the bus I get up the courage to ask the bus driver if he knows of the Chemin St Jacques. A rather abrupt and unfriendly "non" … with a turning of his head from side to side to confirm his response …international body language for the word "no".
Assume by now he knew French was not my mother tongue and just in case I did not understand the French word "non" … he left no room for discussion with his body language.
Now a bit more nervous I head down the street … walking past a busy restaurant … I notice a lady standing alone at the outdoor patio of the bar next door. What the heck! … Thinking to myself, might as well get this over with. If I’m in the wrong place I might as well know.
What a pleasant surprise … this kind lady actually has heard of the Chemin St Jacques. She rather enthusiastically engages in conversa-tion with me. I hear the word "religieux" and what sounds like a refuge for pilgrims … my French is still quite rusty!
What a relief! I follow her directions and start walking up the hill. I am tired now. It has been about 24 hours since leaving Canada. I’ve only had one croissant and 2 coffees all day … too cheap! Maybe I would like to stop for a beer and a couple of cigarettes … but it is getting late … almost dark … figure I had better get on with the task of finding a place to sleep.
Several hundred meters up this hill I notice a sign "Franciscan" something or other and an announcement on the bulletin board with a photo of Ste Therese de Lisieux (more about this later).
I walk into an open area … a few people sitting around this inner courtyard. One of the ladies sends me an inquisitive glance. The look that says; ‘What do you want? … Or … What are you looking for?
See … I don’t need to understand French. My travels in foreign countries where the language of the day is not English or Canadian forced me to improve my understanding of that international language known as ‘body language’.
I explain to this lady that I am looking for a pilgrim’s refuge … she quickly replies … absolutely no space here. She is now quite conge-nial; perhaps now that she knows I am a Chemin St Jacques pilgrim and not simply a vagabond! She accompanies me back out onto the street. More body language here; with this action she is confirming her comment about no space here.
She is talking to herself ... she says ... "where can I send you?" Before she has a chance to answer herself, I jump in and let her know what the friendly lady at the bar down the hill had told me. She said something about ‘religieux’ and a place to sleep. Just as I finished my sentence the church bells started ringing.
The lady looks at her watch and says rather excitedly "Oui l’office … l’heure de l’office". I figured out a few minutes later her excitement may have had its’ roots more in the thought of getting rid of me than figuring out a place for me to sleep.
What an unkind thought eh! And about this nice lady who has no obligation to help me with anything.
She explains to me that I will be able to find one of the Sisters … ah huh! ... I figure this must be the meaning of the word 'religieux' … after l'office and can ask her for help.
By now I have interpreted "l’office" to mean prayer time. How long is prayer time? No idea … and remember … at the moment I’m in the mood for a beer … not prayer!
Encouraged nonetheless I head towards the church. I spot 2 nuns across the street opening a door into one of the buildings there. Now I am excited. I can get the help I need without waiting for the "l’office" to finish or … worse yet … attend "l’office".
I quicken my pace and follow the 2 nuns into the building. As I am entering the building I think to myself … this is pretty audacious of me … I must be desperate! I explain myself to one of the nuns … she is quite friendly and replies … "wait until the l’office is finished and than ask one of the nuns for help. … Hmmm. Seems my audacity was ill conceived after all!
Also seems this ’cheap’ place to sleep comes at a price. I decide to attend l'office prayers ... the beer will have to wait! The prayer time was quite pleasant ... mostly the singing of prayers by the nuns and monks. The voices were splendid ... the event was long! I would come to really enjoy the choir of nuns and monks over the next few days.
It became completely dark while I was in church. When the prayer time was finished I quickly tried to figure out how to intercept one of the nuns on their way to wherever they go after l’office. Presumably somewhere outside of the church … rather basilica … very large basilica!
I retrieved my backpack and walking stick and exited the side door of the basilica … no nuns coming in my direction … start to panic a bit! Thinking oh no! They will all escape and than what will I do?
Quickly went to my contingency plan … what contingency plan? I had none! Instinct was all that remained. I saw the monks heading gener-ally in my direction … I would approach a monk … why not? I am almost desperate now … not really … yet the prospect of paying for an expensive hotel room or sleeping on the street was not very appealing at the moment.
I intercepted one of the monks … so much for courtesy again! I pleaded my case. His face was kind and he seemed empathetic towards me. He asked me to wait while he finished his tasks. He was carrying a musical instrument into the vestibule when I almost tripped him to get his attention.
I waited outside as several monks entered the vestibule ... de-robed and walked past me again on there way out. Several pleasant “bonsoirs” but no offers to help. A few minutes later the monk with the kind face returned to assure me that he hadn't forgotten about me and that he would only be another minute or so.
Could he somehow feel my impatience?
He returned and motioned me to follow him ... ah finally ... off to my cheap accommodation.
We walked together to the monk's residence. On entering the residence he explained to me that talking is a no-no in the residence. I was impressed … my kind of place … no noise! He returned with a couple of small pieces of paper in his hand. One piece of paper had a map to the refuge and on the other the code to get in the place. He explained the basics to me and apologized that there would likely be nothing to eat for breakfast at the refuge. I was happy to have a bed … I said thank you and headed back down the hill.
Now I am really in the mood for a beer!
The reasons for wanting a beer earlier were still present ... tired ... thirsty ... hungry ... and now I could add "celebration'. Celebrate the fact that I now have a bed to sleep in ... which I presumed would be free or for a nominal fee.
I enjoyed my beer and considered that attending the l'office prayers was not such a high price to pay!
When I arrived at the house and I scanned the bulletin board for information ... nothing about pilgrims on the bulletin board. As I stood there and pondered this newest dilemma, a young man entered the house ... Benoit ... and within a few minutes it was determined that I likely should be sharing his room.
I later discovered the 'house' is maintained by the Sisters and it is quite unusual that a monk would direct me to the house and not to the 'Sisters' for help. Hmmm
The room was small with 4 beds. I slept in the top bunk. The next morning I felt like I was run over by a truck ... a 100 ton truck! I couldn't move ... let alone get up. I finally got out of bed around 11:00AM ... hungry! I went to the local bar and ordered a large coffee with milk.
In France seems the milk is not heated like in Spain and the coffee is very strong. Wandered up the hill and stopped in at the tourism office. Learned that an office of the 'Friends of Santiago' was upstairs ... good news. Figured I could at least get some information. I met a very talkative and generous lady. She explained a lot. She showed me a package of papers neatly organized ... a map and itinerary of the French Camino. I learned it was about 900 kilometers to the Spanish border ... ouch!!
Conversations with Benoit ... I talked too much. Swiss lady who brought Benoit and I some lunch in the park ... I had some bread and wine.
Permission to stay another night ... Benoit
Lonely or sad feeling when Benoit left on Friday morning. Andre arrives ... chat ... his story ... his daughter Sophie ... we meet in St Pere. Martial arrives ... no conversation.
Walk to St Pere to attend veneration of relics of St Therese ... had walked the previous day and yet today I got lost ... hmmm
Relics of St Therese show up at basilica in Vezelay in the evening. A group of 800 young people in village for a retreat.
May 23, 2004 ... walking
It's time to leave Vezelay ... first stop is St Pere ... 2 kilometers. I have been in St Pere before ...went for the veneration of the relics of St Therese ... I know the way ... or do I?
One hundred meters of road and than the 'goat trail' ... no familiarity ... I keep going ... climb the hill. Yup! ... I'm lost! Reminds me of last years walk ... getting lost on my way out of Seville ... is this an omen?
I see the church steeple of St Pere. The Camino guide I purchased says "fourches" ... keep left. OK ... I head back and find this unused trail alongside a grape field. I follow this trail to another dead end ... yikes!
I walk almost back to the highway and find another 'fourche' with a little yellow sign indicating that the Camino trail turns left here ... how did I miss it? ... Oh well!
The 'goat trail' turns on to a road into St Pere ... the first street sign is "St Christopher ... I assume Christopher Columbus ... yet another reminder of last years Camino where I learned before leaving Seville that many people believe the tomb of Christopher Columbus is in the Cathedral in Seville.
There is a coffee shop in St Pere. I sit and review the guide map and the directions. Also read the book I picked up at the church about St Therese of Lisieux.
Remembered Julia’s comment ... "Bruce this is 2004 ... nobody cares about what’s on the inside! Such wisdom! She should not have experienced the 'thorns' of life at her young age. Seems to me she should not be so wise ... so aware ... so frightening.
Timing ... oh! ... I'm tired now ... walked around 14 kilometers. A gorgeous day for walking ... route is tres scenic ... rolling hills ... no walking on roads ... all 'goat trail'. The branches of the trees form an umbrella for protection from the sun ... cool breeze ... voila! ... What a great day!
As I walk along I reflect on the day ... what has happened so far today? Not much. Spent most of my time while walking 'connecting the dots'. The phrase 'connecting the dots' refers to the children’s' game ... where a zillion dots are individually numbered. The child is expected to connect the dots numerically and when finished ... or almost finished ... the image appears on the page.
Seems that way to me today ... how events of the past 10 years or so, the individual dots, seem to connect and bring me here to this day ... this trail ... these reflections ... musings of a bored man? ... Or ... will some 'image' materialize?
As I complete my 'replay' of the day ... my eyes decide to broaden their horizon ... no longer satisfied to look at the rocks at my feet or the odd caterpillar who is crawling along in the same direction.
Suddenly my eyes want to ingest the surroundings ... not for the first time today but with an unknown intention ... at least unknown to me at the time I decided to look around. Much like someone was asking me to look up and look around.
At this particular point in the trail there is a wide open expanse of lovely green ... fields ... trees ... rolling hills ... large valley. Almost immediately my mind says ... wow! ... Look at that! The earth along with the sun, the rain and the efforts of man have nurtured and sustained mankind in ever-growing numbers for more than 2,000 years.
Apparently the Romans were here ... not a trivial thought!
Rather spontaneously my mind poses the question ... how much longer will this continue given the fact that mankind has polluted the air in accelerating ways for the past century ... poured chemicals on the earth ... some poisonous. The rain is now called acid rain ... what impact does air pollution have on the quality of the suns' rays? ... Hmmm
Not a pleasant outlook. I walk on thinking to myself that I should write these reflections before I forget them ... I'm tired anyway ... might as well take a break. I watch for an inviting spot to stop. Seems my interest in writing is discouraged by the notion that I have nothing to sit on.
While leaning on my back pack has so often served as a resting place ... I only resort to this at moments of brutal fatigue. What a lazy bum eh!
I continue walking ... a small village comes into view ... I think to myself ... oh good! I'll have a coffee and write my thoughts. A few meters ahead my eyes spot a stone bench on the side of the trail ... man made ... a kind of 'vista' lookout.
Oh! Oh! ... guess I have to stop now ... so much for the coffee break.
I decide to stop and write these words while they are fresh in my mind. Knowing my mind ... it will drift off somewhere else before I get to the village! This is really different ... not only am I writing ... I am stopping along the trail to write certain thoughts while they are fresh ... hot off the press so to speak! ... Hmmm
'Vauban' ... Château country ... reminds me of the children’s' nursery rhyme ... “I’m the king of the castle and you're the dirty rascal"
Fiefdoms! The lifetime labor of so many people required to support the owners' of the Château! Back than only the people who had to clean the 'fruit bowls' (potty) got to go into the Château. Those who performed the menial servile tasks considered beyond the dignity of the rich.
What has changed?
Today fewer people clean latrines yet most of us still do tasks beyond the dignity of the rich. For example ... ladder climbing in the work place. While on the lower rungs it is OK but as we climb the ladder the tasks at the lower level fall into the category of 'fruit bowl cleaning' ... Why?
There is more of us than them ... why in our so called free society do we still accept such injustice ... Why? ... Why?
Perhaps because ... like children in a candy store ... we are allowed to enter the store and take what we want ... or at least endeavor with a reasonable likelihood of success to get our hands in the candy jar of our choice. In this way we are deceived ... trapped into conforming to an insidious form of slavery ... bondage!
Today for 5 euros anyone can go inside the Château!
More about what has changed. Mankind is so rational ... living on the top of the hill provides security and asset management. One can see the enemy coming and one can watch one's assets ... land ... crops etc ... no need for video surveillance!
Enter the village ... there is a flea market on the street ... people buying memories of yesterday ... trinkets are more important than family stories?
Sugar cube for the horses ... I am too stingy to give a horse one of my pieces of fruit. I am carrying an apple and 2 pears. I had two opportunities ... the horse was right beside the road ... I thought about it ... decided against it ... how selfish eh!
At the coffee shop I realized I could have given the horse a sugar cube. I have 3-4 in my bag ... 1/2 package. Saw a horse not long ago ... offered a sugar cube ... he or she refused ... perhaps because he was 200-300 meters away with several fences to jump in between. How generous eh! Maybe I will have another opportunity down the road.
Surprised ... very surprised at my appetite for writing today. I’m sitting at another bench along the side of the trail ... around 5:00PM. The sun is shining ... birds are singing ... breeze blowing. Checked the bench for living creatures before sitting down ... see I am wide awake still!
Fatigue setting in though. For more than 10 years I wander all over the place ... my mind as active as it is today ... a curse? ... Maybe not! In any event today is the first day I have the inspiration to write some of my thoughts almost immediately after they come into my conscious mind.
As St Augustine might say ... it is like my mind wants its' thoughts transported to the tongue of my pen immediately ... no wash cycle ... no rinse cycle or spin cycle first and later write the 'clean' thoughts that remain.
Of course, these last few words are my own ... St Augustine would not have had the knowledge of modern day 'wash cycle'! And than again ... I am usually a plagiarist ... is this the correct term for one which writes as though it is his/her own but is really copying the thoughts and sentences of someone else.
Very rarely in my life have I had anything 'original' to say or at least anything I considered 'original' and worthwhile to say.
Perhaps St Augustine is powering my pen ... who knows eh! I do know this feeling is a most unusual experience for me. Some of what follows will appear in 'print' in different areas of the 'webpage' ... see my thoughts are not linear or congruous. I should note that I saw a statue of St Augustine May 24th in Corbigny ... the first time I had ever seen a full statue of St Augustine in my entire life ... hmmm
Seems the time has come for me to have the courage to write and to share some of my experiences and reflections. Seems that more than 10 years of 'gestation' is enough ... oops! A long gestation would suggest what is about to be put on paper and other communication media such as the internet will be worth reading ... not so! ... You the reader be the judge.
I am reminded today ... a few kilometers back ... of something Kempis wrote in "Imitation of Christ". I have to paraphrase because I am too lazy to look it up ... more about my 'lazy' nature later ... or perhaps now!
I am lazy or at least I have many of the attributes the word 'lazy' is intended to convey. I am a member of the male gender ... what more can I say! I am not being fair to all those energetic and ambitious members of the male gender.
About 600 hundred years ago Thomas Kempis ... See I couldn't remember his first name a few words ago ... perhaps that is why I digressed. Paraphrasing now ... "pay no head or attention to the writer, consider only what is written and judge for yourself if there is 'truth' in what is written"
He went on to describe how most people judge what is written by who wrote it. If the author is well known and respected by a gazillion people ... most will read the 'writings' and ingest willingly what is written.
What happens in the stomach of the reader post ingestion? ... Who knows eh!
Although it seems to me that many people testify that their lives have often been influenced by something they have read. As I write this ... it sounds logical.
The most powerful doorway to our 'psyche' and all this word 'psyche' implies are our eyes. So how else could our 'psyche' be fed than by what we see? ... A dominant factor being ... what we read!
I digress again ... so stop reading!
I have no credentials for writing ... neither academic ... by birth ... or by life's experiences. None at least that survives the 'screening' or 'testing' of main stream society. So all that I can hope for is that some people will read what I write despite my short comings and judge it as Thomas Kempis suggests.
Many people have asked me during the past 10 years or so ... What are you searching for? ... Maybe not ... my memory is not always so good. Maybe some of this stuff I am about to write about has gone through one or two 'wash cycles' ... I will try again.
During the past 10 years or so many people have made the statements ,,, "Bruce you are searching for something" or "Bruce ... I hope you find what you are looking for"
Of course, I always denied the allegations ... suppose I have never been ready to admit it.
Somehow today is different ... yes! ... Yes! I am searching! I’m searching for the "Holy Grail" or the "Rosetta Stone". Not some wooden cup or any other manmade trinket hidden away in some dark mysterious cavern.
I am searching for what the expressions "Holy Grail" and "Rosetta Stone" symbolize.
Who are we? ... Mankind
Why are we here? ... Earth
Where are we going? ... Cosmos
But I am lazy as I mentioned before. I have no energy to plough through volumes of books that represent 1,000's of man years of effort.
Seems I am arrogant too eh! Perhaps this is a good place to write about another thought that passed between my ears a few kilometers back.
I am human ... in every way! This is not to suggest I am good or bad ... I am simply human, subject to all the vagaries(not sure what this word means ... but it’s written now) of being human. My rather large stom-ach is one of the many witnesses to this statement.
I will not, in my writing, attempt to mask my humanity with any pretence of devoutness or holiness. Equally important I will not attempt to mask my personal degree of devoutness or holiness with a pretence of being agnostic ... I am not!
I will try very hard to honour both 'sides' of me ... to do otherwise would be an injustice to myself as well as the reader.
Back to the notion that I am lazy ... I was just told by my inner voice that I am not necessarily lazy but I always look for the 'short cut'. I don't have much patience ... much staying power. I become bored easily ... whether I am reading ... building a baby's crib … I built all of Kevin's baby furniture… or working.
Yes ... this is more truly my nature ... by the word 'nature' I mean it is my mom and dad's fault. It’s not something I learned ... my dad is exactly the opposite ... a tower of strength ... a tower of strength, staying power and patience.
I am who I am ... so in my 'search' ... see the word 'search' is wrong. The word implies intentioned effort ... organization ... persistence ... focus ... direction etc. None of these fine adjectives apply to me or what I have done for the past 10 years +.
As a matter of fact if I could think of the antonyms to these words I would find the more correct words to describe myself. But since these words ... the antonyms ... would not be too flattering ... I will skip over this step.
See ... short cut and arrogance! ... Wow ... such honesty! ... I’m impressed!
So if it is not 'searching' than what is it? Here is what just floated into my mind ... unedited.
I am a 'sponge' or at least my mind operates like a 'sponge'. Two inferences come to mind. I think the word sponge is used to describe someone who tends to live off of another’s' efforts ... the slang synonym is the word 'bum' ... one who takes but does not give.
Seems to fit ... to a degree ... perhaps to a larger degree than what I am willing to admit. Those readers who know me may be smiling right about now.
The second inference is the sponge you find in a kitchen. It is used to soak up stuff ... water ... spills ... dirt etc. Seems the molecular struc-ture of a sponge allows 'foreign' stuff to mix with itself. The sponge is charitable ... doesn't differentiate between what is good ... e.g. clean water ... and what is less good ... e.g. dirty water.
My mind is like that. I suppose to a degree all of our minds are like that ... seems logical. How could we learn to speak our native language if not ... our mind 'soaks up' the countless repetition of sounds and gestures that make up our native language ... and in due course ... commands our vocal chords to repeat them? Seems this is no different than a parrot ... and how we marvel when we hear a parrot vocalize the words ... "Polly wants a cracker"
Must be a big sponge between my ears ... seems my 'search' may not be a 'search' at all. I have simply opened all the doors and windows to the 'sponge' between my ears ... rather than follow anyone else's recipe for filling the sponge.
I have elected to take the view ... whatever comes my way ... OK ... if I have to work for it ... not interested.
A spiritual or religious way of saying the same thing … my preference by the way … is "follow the Virgin Mary" or "let the Virgin Mary guide you"
Why do we say 'Holy' in front of the word 'Spirit' ... as an adjective? I think I read somewhere in ancient Judaism or Hebrew or Aramaic … or something ... the root of the word 'holy' is the notion 'good'.
This is no small point ... let's get on with the journey ... put down the pen and pick up the back pack.
May 23, 2004
Woke up around 7:30 AM ... gone out looking for a coffee ... none! Went up the hill to the church to see what time mass would be ... thought there might be a mass at 8:00AM.
Had difficulty making it up the hill ... huffing and puffing near the top ... and this is without my back pack! Thought to myself ... how I will walk today carrying my back pack ... my first day of walking.
I have the guide now ... don't pay much attention to it. Andre mentions the first stage is 36 kilometers ... I think to myself ... no way! Andre also mentions that there is a place to stay about half way. I am more encouraged now ... I should be able to handle 17 kilometers or so. I end up walking 40 kilometers this day ... no idea how!
I was ready to stop around the 26 kilometers mark. There was a place to stay ... 25 euros including supper and breakfast. Decided not to stay ... Stingy? ... Driven? … or both.
As I head out on the final 10 kilometers I found myself saying to myself ... "steely determination" ... the repetition of these words seemed to energize me. I was now walking more strongly than any time all day. This was a false sense of energy ... the 'steely determina-tion' wore off and serious fatigue took its place.
My feet are sore ... my back is sore ... seems my 'diaper rash' is grow-ing like a weed.
As the sun continues to set further in the west ... anxiety sets in. What if I do not arrive before dark! I won't be able to see the little yellow arrows that indicate which way to go ... Oh! Oh! I could get seriously lost.
I keep an eye on the roadside ... looking out for a suitable place to sleep (e.g. farmers' field) I ask in a couple of villages ... Haut y Bas. A man was walking in the same direction as me. He catches up to me and we start to chat. We go around the corner and down a small hill. I ask him if the houses at the bottom of the hill are part of the same village ... he replies Haut y Bas.
I couldn't help myself ... I ask with a tone of sarcasm ... any difference between the people who live at the bottom of the hill and the people who live on the top of the hill? He seems to detect my sarcasm and effectively says ..."aye .... A bit"
The people who live on top of the hill are from old families ... like John used to say about Guelph ... "which side of the tracks do you live on?"
Dusk has set in and the trail is taking me into a wooded area ... Yikes! I make it to town ... the lights of the town could be seen from 1 or 2 kilometers out. What a treat to see the lights.
I find my way to the church by following the instructions in the guide. I expect to find the refuge somewhere around the church ... nope! What now?
The town is sleeping ... no one on the streets ... a few cars pass by ... ah ha! One car stops and a man gets out ... I think to dump his garbage in a bin. I ask him for help ... he reads the notes in my guide ... more attentively than I had. He notices an address ... 11 Presbytere Street.
I am recharged now ... start looking for this Presbytere Street. A few minutes later ... bingo! Now I am excited ... all I have to do is find the building with the number 11. I do and there are lights on in the build-ing. I am encouraged ... the gate is open ... I walk up to the front door.
I look in the window (door window) and I see a man at the desk. What a relief! I knock on the door ... I knock on the door again.
I figure the man must be on the telephone. I walk out into the front yard so I can peer in through the window and confirm my speculation ... nope! He is just sitting there watching television.
Whether because I’m courageous or desperate? Don’t know which ... I go up to the window and knock on the window ... he hears the knock ... turns around and gives me a look of 'alarm'. Not much of the look ... "welcome ... how are you" on his face.
I go back to the front door figuring he will follow me ... he looks through the window ... moves the curtain aside ... looks again ... turns the outside light on ... looks again ... he seems puzzled ... finally he opens the door and says "bonjour" or "bonsoir" ... I don't remember.
At this point I am sure he will recognize my status as a pilgrim of the Chemin St Jacques ... after all ... this is the refuge for the pilgrims ... or so I thought! ... Nope!
He quickly clarified this point ... "this is not a refuge ... and by the way ... there is a door bell at the gate". His kind way of chastising me for banging on the window ... I am grateful for his gentle response ... some might have punched me in the face!
He attempted ... several times ... to explain how to get to the refuge. He is quite capable of reading body language as well ... he obviously understood the “I have no idea what you are talking about" look on my face. Out of frustration or out of above average charity ... he offered to give me a ride to the refuge.
I declined his most generous offer and motioned that I would find my way. When I turned to leave he said he would call the nuns to let them know I was on my way. I asked him if he thought it was too late to disturb the nuns ... he replied ... "Non ...non ... it's not too late"
I asked him for the time ... 10:30 PM ... yikes! ... I had no idea it was so late! Feeling a bit 'sheepish' about disturbing a nun at this time I set out. I wandered around for another 20 minutes or so in the direction from his instructions ... even thought I had found the place ... a very large complex which I learned later was not the refuge but a seniors convalescent home.
After resigning to the fact that I would not find the refuge and taking comfort from the knowledge that the sun would be back up again in about seven hours ... I prepared myself mentally for sleeping outside. I figured I would go sleep by the church ... by now I am completely disoriented and I can't figure out which direction the church is...
I walk around the corner and I spot a person just about to renter this building. I quickly think to myself ... if only I could get his or her attention ... I may have another shot at finding the refuge ... the pros-pects of sleeping outside on the cement are not very appealing ... plus it’s chilly ... no it’s cold!
About 5 or 6 footsteps later I wave my walking stick in the air ... thinking it would be rude to yell out something at this hour. Somehow the individual who turned out to be a lady ... a very kind lady ... caught the movement of my walking stick in the air and understood the message this action was intended to convey.
We met at the gate ... the parking lot gate ... this lady recognized me as a 'pilgrim' right away ... and she was so kind ... even in the dark she understood the look on my face accentuated by my tone of voice . Turns out she had heard the bell ... several minutes earlier I had pushed the bell at this parking lot.
I remembered ... the instant I had pushed the bell ... I wished I hadn't. I was convinced since the whole area of the building was in darkness ... there was no way anyone would hear the bell.
This lady literally took me by the hand ... she walked me around the corner ... made sure my feet were on the sidewalk and with explicit instructions ... "do not leave the sidewalk”. She repeated this simple instruction several times ... guess she also knows I don't listen so well!
I hear well ... but I have never listened very well ... selective hearing eh!
She also explained how the road would wind to the left and the build-ing I was looking for was less than 2 minutes away ... that's what the last Good Samaritan had said!
After thanking this patient and kind lady ... once again I headed out in search of the refuge ... even more conscious now of how late it is and what an imposition my appearance at the door of the refuge may present.
I find the building ... not the front door ... the proper entrance to the refuge! I find the back door ... the 'no entry door' ... figures eh!
I see someone in the inside doorway ... I am encouraged and a bit timid at the same time ... a man opens the door. We recognize each other right away ... he is the gentleman from the office "Friends of Santiago" in Vezelay. He introduces me to the nun who is chatting with him.
He assures me that there is a bed for me ... the last one of four beds. Turns out 3 pilgrims arrived ahead of me ... whew!
Yogurt ... jam and bread ... to bed ... no shower ... too noisy! Can't sleep ... feet ache ... shoulders ache ... one of the girls is snoring ... eventually I get to sleep. Awake again before dawn ... eventually get up and take a shower.
Breakfast at the refuge ... coffee, croissant, bread and jam ... 5 star services! Stop at the church on the way out ... statue of St Augustine and St Therese. The bible on the altar was open at page 910-911 ... Ecclesiastics verse 31-32.
So tired ... can hardly walk ... chat with the cows. Fellow pilgrim (Martial) and I plan to stop at St Revelerin. We know there are only 2 beds ... we don't expect any competition ... wrong!
Stop at 12:45 Grupy ... a rose on beer glass ... store closed at 1:00 PM ... just made it ... bought small package of cheese. I chat with Martial. No water for the rest of the walk ... about 7 kilometers. This small package of cheese would turn out to be all I had to eat for the rest of today ... and the small piece I gave to Martial would turn out to be all he had to eat until almost noon the next day.
Lots of doubt about the merit of writing while walking.
Visit the church ... statue of St Therese ... too tired to even think!!
I arrive first ... find the place ... the door is open ... I am feeling so relieved. Scan the parking lot ... a gentleman is looking at me. I stand still ... he approaches me ... "you just telephoned?" he asks ... no ... someone had just called and reserved the 2 beds.
Yikes! ... no way I can walk any further ... I ask for permission to sleep on the floor. No stores open in this village ... it has a restaurant grocery store etc ... all closed on Mondays ... reminds me of Levack.
I sleep ... try to sleep ... on the grass ... debating whether I should offer to share my package of soup (bought in St Pere on Saturday ... thank goodness!) Some cheese left ... bought a few hours ago ... and a pear. I decided I should share ... the charitable thing to do and all. I go in to cook my soup ... the 2 pilgrims are sitting at the table eating ... a veritable feast! Wine ... bread.
Learned that Martial had arrived but decided not to stay ... he kept walking.
The one (Spanish born) offers me a piece of churro ... ugly looking Spanish version of kabosa. The Spanish pilgrim has a 2 wheeled contraption ... a large 2 wheeled contraption which he pushes along in front of him. He keeps his back pack and other supplies in this particular 2 wheeled 'mule'. Turns out he has lots of supplies ... what a relief!
Now I can keep my piece of cheese and bowl of soup all to myself! How selfish eh!
Soup tastes so good! ... I sleep on the floor ... don't sleep well ... some snoring from my neighbors. I stole some of the neighbor's tea in the morning (thought the tea belonged to the refuge and was gratis) ... used my sugar cubes ... hit the road!
May 25, 2004
Leaving the refuge where I slept on the floor. Decide not to wait around until the local restaurant opens ... a huge departure from my previous walks. I very rarely, if ever, hit the road without a morning coffee and a couple of cigarettes.
I was encouraged by the words in my guide ... coffee/sandwiches at the 5 kilometers mark.
Walked past a few houses and noticed a man in the window of his home ... not sure what he was doing but his body was half way out of the window. Great opportunity I thought to myself ... I could now get directions to the coffee 'well'.
I posed the question ... ever so gently ... the response came equally gently and friendly ... "nothing here ... nothing until … ‘My heart stopped beating for a moment! ... This cannot be ... my guide book says there is a coffee/sandwich bar here ... therefore there must be!
I thank him and walk on ... thinking maybe he is new to the village and doesn't know the place ... there are at least 20 or so homes in this village. Not willing to accept no for an answer and certainly not prepared to walk 17 kilometers for my morning coffee ... I pose the same question to the next person I see ... a gentleman putting some-thing into the trunk of his car.
Same answer! ... Yikes! This gentleman was kind enough to offer me some water ... I didn't have the nerve to say I would like some very hot water with some coffee milk and sugar in it!
Resigned myself to my new reality and walked on. I am in surprisingly good shape today ... my feet are sore but not bad. I have enough energy to walk. I think about stopping for a rest from time to time ... don't ... walk non-stop to t village ... 17 kilometers ... difficult for me to believe.
I arrive, anxious and excited about getting something to eat and to drink ... not fanatic about a coffee any longer. The local café is on the main road ... Martial has arrived just ahead of me. We sit together and have a coffee and a chocolate croissant. Oh ... the small pleasures of a pilgrim.
At this point I am still feeling quite energetic ... I plan to walk further. Martial talks about finding a place to stay ... we work together on this project ... a phone call (Martial carries a cell phone) ... a walk about ... look for the local priest.
No doors 'open' ... by now I am tired. I explain to Martial that I am not prepared to spend more than 10 euros for a bed. Martial invites me to go for lunch ... I decline ... thinking lunch would be much too extravagant. I camp out on the sidewalk across the street from the church ... take out my 'bed roll' and make myself comfortable.
I would stay here almost 2 hours ... never really got to sleep. A gentleman on a bicycle approached me ... turns out he is the local shoe-maker ... asks me if I want some water. I explain that I am looking for a bed ... he suggests trying the mayor or the priest (by telephone)
The priest is only in the office until noon today. I thank him ... he comes back about 30 minutes later ... seems genuinely concerned about my situation. Martial has returned about the same time and assures my friend the shoemaker that all has been arranged.
Martial had successfully negotiated a bed for me for 10 euros at a local 'bed and breakfast' type home plus 1.5 euros for breakfast (coffee and biscuits) Fatigue has set in and I am quite content to have this nights lodging settled.
This place is quite nice ... may have been a hotel a century or so ago ... has an inner court yard area ... a few trees and shrubs ... no flowers ... secured by a large gate on the street entrance which is locked at 6:00PM and a locked door to the area of the rooms.
The room is spacious ... a double bed. Martial explains that his deal was that he would take another room with a single bed if no one else shows up before 6:00 PM. If someone comes along ... the owner will provide a cot and we ill share one room.
I change into my shorts and T shirt with the intention of going to the grocery store to buy some food. The experience of yesterday ... with nothing to eat! ... is still 'top of mind'. Not a pleasant feeling to be hungry and discover there are either no stores or only stores that are closed.
Too tired! ... Change my mind ... lay down. Only one key ... I agree to stay locked in the house until Martial returns. Fall in and out of consciousness. Martial returns around 6:30 PM. I go to the store ... buy some stuff (sardines, cucumber and a tomato) ... go home ... eat ... write.
Today I read ecclesiastics ... need to write about my thoughts ... Cherokee Nation ... I will return ... the song ... "Turn ... turn ... turn"
Nevers is 32 kilometers away ... hope to arrive tomorrow.
Meditations energized by thoughts ... Socrates ... 'feels' good!
More 'connecting dots' ... Uncle Bruce ... why did he join the army? ... friends ... dad ... "the greatest gift one can give is to lay down your life for a friend" ... this is what Uncle Bruce did ... and Uncle Charley.
In news recently Paul Martin's verbal slip ... mentioned Norway instead of Normandy?
St Reverin ... beheaded ... Greece cradle of modern western society ... democracy ... religion too? Socrates ... hemlock poison ... was teaching young people only one divinity ... foreshadows Christ?
Value and importance of notion of 'name' ... Jesus gives us no 'name' ... only Father
Group of cows with their 'bums' to me ... walk away from me as I approach
May 26, 2004
Walk from Corbigny to Nevers.
Breakfast was at the same place we slept ... wasn't hungry ... had a coffee ... made a jam sandwich for the road. Asked the other pilgrims what kind of jam was in the jar ... it seemed homemade.
Martial replied ..."prune jam" ... my gut reaction was ... YUK! On quick reflection I changed my mind ... remembering my diet has not had a lot of fibre in the past 10 days ... better I eat the prunes.
Martial and I leave together ... we soon separate ... I suggest to Martial that we have our own 'rhythm' and it is best if we respect it. I shared with Martial that mine is 'slow' or 'stop'! Martial seemed to be laboring to go as 'slow' as me.
The first 10 kilometers or so were easy ... seems my body was feeding on the energy produced by my 'fanaticizing' ... intriguing eh! How fanaticizing seems to produce adrenalin and energy ... and some say we need proteins! Ha!
The 'feeding frenzy' wore off and I found myself deadly sober! i.e. weak ... tired ... and sore all over. While contemplating my condition it occurred to me this must be how people on drugs feel ... coming down off a high ... or ... after a good drunk!
My 'high' wasn't that good! Maybe I should try the drugs or the alcohol! Don't understand it but since I tried that route about 8 years ago, connecting dots again ... my trip to Montreal to visit my brother and become a 'pot head', I have had no interest. On rare occasions I have had a second beer, most of the time I have one beer ... just for a change … to wash down the cigarettes.
The next 10 kilometers seemed much more difficult even though I took a break to eat my jam sandwich. The final 12 kilometers or so were brutal! I had a coffee which helped a bit but seemed to wear off quickly ... much more quickly than the Spanish coffee.
Martial played a key role again today. Our paths crossed at about kilometers 20 ... he was about to make preparations for the night's lodging. He asked me if I would like him to make enquiries on my behalf ... I quickly accepted his offer.
Martial has been so kind and accommodating. I ask myself ... what would have happened if Martial had not helped me find accommodation ... don't know ... I've always managed somehow ... yet here he is doing so much to help me.
Martial calls the Carmelite monastery ... no vacancy ... Visitation second ... success ... he has made arrangements for the two of us. With that settled we walked on together the rest of the way.
Arrived later than expected ... around 8:00PM ... the sisters were very accommodating ... gave us something to eat ... we had individual rooms ... a very nice place to stay. I asked if I could stay another night and the sister superior nodded and replied "sure".
I should mention that in my mind I figured our stay here was gratuitous ... after all we are pilgrims and this is a monastery. Once again I learned the hard way ... assume nothing! I should have asked for the cost ... in the end it was still a very reasonable price for very comfort-able accommodation.
May 27, 2004 Day of rest in Nevers
Woke up early enough ... breakfast ... coffee and cigarette ... and off to Nevers. The monastery is 2-3 kilometers from the centre of the city. I explained to Martial that I had 2 priorities ... visit the convent where St Bernadette rests and check my email. I was thinking of emailing some of my 'scribbling' to Ron to post on the web page.
Feeble attempts to find the post office which has internet access ... wound up at the convent.
The visit is a moving and quite emotional experience for me. Connect-ing dots again ... accidentally ... to the extent that anything is accidental ... found myself here almost 9 years ago ... and the past 9 years have passed so quickly and have been so full of mystery.
Got separated from Martial ... looked for him before leaving the city ... felt a bit sheepish that he has been so kind and he may think I have abandoned him.
Stop for coffee and a cigarette ... when about to leave ... looking out the window of the bar ... I notice Martial walking by outside. I bang on the window to get his attention. We chat outside for a few minutes and split up again. I start to walk away and after crossing the street I realize I don't have my small back pack ... Oh! Oh! ... my passport ... wallet ... gone again! ... Oh no!
The gentleman from Ireland at the airport experience flashes back into my mind ... I panic a bit ... not much. End up finding it still hanging on the chair in the restaurant (connecting dots again ... what a contrast from the time I left my stuff in a locked vehicle on the edge of a well travelled road in southern France (Circa 200). When I returned to the vehicle a short time later ... the window was smashed ... my passport ... my wallet ... some of my clothes all gone! Fortunately for me I wasn't travelling alone at the time.
Found the post office ... used the internet for a few minutes ... very expensive ... 8 euros per hour. Later found a cyber café with internet access ... with a name like cyber café I expected several computers to be available ... nope! ... only one at the back of the bar ... used it for about 3 hours ... hard work ... stiff neck ... still undecided whether this approach to writing is OK
Oratory at convent dedicated to St Joseph ... favourite place of prayer for St Bernadette. Remember visit to Montreal and St Joseph's oratory there shortly after return from Europe ... first visit to Nevers and this convent. St Joseph's oratory in Montreal is where I had the first experience ... close my eyes and unable to open them ... conscious of what is going on around me but my eyes seem to be fixed 'shut' ... has happened regularly since that visit ... still don't understand what is going on ... an unusual 'feeling' ... 'sensation' in the area just above my eyes ... the centre of my lower forehead. Have learned since that this is the approximate location of the 'third eye' in Chakra
Connecting dots ... street leading to cyber café is named St Martin Street ... every time I see the name 'Martin' I am reminded of the words "That Martin Girl" ... an expression used to describe St Therese of the Child Jesus in the first pamphlet I read about her. I remembered that we were looking for St Therese in Nevers 9 years ago when we unintentionally discovered that St Bernadette was interred here. Hmmm
Passed San Sebastian Plaza on the way to the cyber café ... my trip to England that ended up as a trip to San Sebastian Spain (walking stick story)
I had a very emotionally charged day ... all good ... some tears ... good tears. I remembered how I carried a handful of tomograms with me from Medugorje ... eventually left them here in Nevers ... many were cracked open and 'bleeding' ... remembered thinking to myself at the time ... "these 'bleeding' palmegrams symbolize the members of my family ... all wounded souls ... and I am leaving them here in your hands St Bernadette"
Tonight I had a difficult but short period. After learning I would be expected to pay for my stay here I plunged into this abyss of doubt ... uncertainty ... wanting to quit ... go home.
Why? ... Don’t know. ... No rational reason.
Went out for a smoke ... sobered up and realized thinking I would not have to pay was silly and ungracious. Why should anyone else pay for me to walk the Camino? Now on my way to bed ... hope I can sleep!
May 28, 2004 Leaving Nevers
Slept well ... up around 7:00AM ... coffee and cigarettes ... writing in the morning before I leave ... another first.
"State of being" seems still under attack ... anxiety ... worry ... why?
Not rational ... seems money or financial security is the issue ... not near as bad as last night. I am strong enough to put this issue in 'front of my face' and have a good look at it. No reason to fret. I have a return airfare ... I have some money still in the bank and I have some room on my credit card ... so why the anxiety?
I have no compunction to complete the Camino ... when it is time to stop ... voluntarily or otherwise (being broke) ... I simply return to Guelph.
Seems to me I was brought to this 'state' this morning ... the seeds were planted during the past couple of days ... and they took root quickly and grew like weeds!
Allowing Martial to help me ... usually I am so self reliant ... somehow I have simply gone along with the flow. Martial made the arrange-ments for lodging for the past 3 nights ... had I made my own ar-rangements ... perhaps I would have done the usual cost benefit analysis and accepted the results/consequences before making the decision.
In these circumstances I learn the results/consequences(financial) after the fact. I have tried very hard for almost 10 years now to not allow myself to be concerned ... at least not overly concerned with financial matters ... attempting to hang on to the attitude ... no money ... so what!
So where did my little soldiers go in the past 15 hours? Did they fall asleep ... were they duped in the past few days into allowing the 'enemy' so to speak into my psyche?
Occurred to me this morning that the feelings I am experiencing this morning and last night are prevalent in mainstream society today. Despite a fairly affluent lifestyle ... seems to me many of us are living beyond our financial means ... much of this style of living being on borrowed money ... mortgages ... bank loans ... credit cards etc Voila! ... Stress and anxiety come along.
So I was taken to this 'state of anxiety' to be reminded how so many people feel? ... Who knows eh?
My recovery was rather quick ... the amount and considerations at stake were minimal. Reminds me just how difficult the 'escape' is for most people. In today’s' society our self respect ... our dignity ... is measured by the place we live in e.g. house vs. apartment ... large house vs. small house ... the car ... the job etc.
How difficult it must be to expend so much energy and time reaching this 'dignified' state and afterwards spending so much time energy and 'prescription drugs' to try and hang on ... "life is useless ... it is like chasing the wind"
Try to walk this off now.
Back again ... it's been about 1/2 hour ... still writing ... haven't left yet ... made the mistake of having another coffee and cigarette.
My mind went soaring again ... higher than 30,000 feet.
It just occurred to me that my thoughts and experiences of the last 24 hours ... the variation in my 'state of being' may have some hidden and mysterious insight.
The flip side of my sheep philosophy ... my article on Philosophical Fodder ... most people when they read my article get a chuckle at first. The nose in the butt of the sheep in front of them... and shortly after-wards they are repulsed by the image ...e.g. “I am not a sheep” ... I am not a dumb animal with poor eyesight ... incapable of taking care of myself.
I am a person ... I am in control of my life ... I make my own decisions ... do we?
We are social beings ... our most innate need is to belong ... to be accepted ... to feel OK about ourselves.
Seems to me most forms of what is known as depression occur when we do not have these feelings of belonging ... being accepted by others ... being OK.
Belonging in today’s society requires a good job ... a new car ... nice furniture ... big house etc.
What is the difference between killing ourselves to acquire these trinkets in order to satisfy our perceived belonging needs and the sheep keeping his nose in the butt of the sheep in front of him?
Why is the image of the sheep so repulsive? ... And rules of society so acceptable? "Woe to you, torrent of human custom! Who can stand against you?" St Augustine
For example, how many lives were destroyed ... literally and or psychologically during the great depression of the 1930's? Destroyed because people's dignity ... self respect ... stature was involuntarily taken away ... why is this so? Not a trivial question?
Now I am off walking ... see where the musings of my demented mind will take me today!
Back again! ... Walked for 4-5 hours ... covered about 16 kilometers. My morning reflections have had the opportunity to get through one or two 'wash cycles' and here is what 'came out of the wash'!
Seems today is a day for meditation/contemplation ... no distractions ... Martial was still at the monastery when I left ... no sign of him yet ... no place to stop for a coffee until now ... just a long walk in solitude ... me and my wayward thoughts ... to the extent that thoughts can belong to anyone ... seems to me thoughts come and go as they please ... matter of fact ... often enough ... I wish some thoughts that come along wouldn't hang around so long!!
Back to the flipside of my sheep philosophy ... the notion of free will ... of freedom to choose ... of being in control of our destiny. Let's consider an example.
Not that this example is particularly good or particularly applicable ... simply a reference point. Many adults say they work hard to provide the means for their children to have a good education ... why?
Let's first look at this situation from the perspective of the parents. I have no idea why ... each individual parent has individual and unique considerations ... yet here are my thoughts today.
Should their children get a good education there is less likelihood these same children will come back home to live as adults! They will have a stronger likelihood of being able to support themselves through adult life and maybe even help out a bit when the parents are old ... although this last thought may be stretching it a bit!
Selfish reasons ... the sense of pride that follows the accomplishments of children e.g. my son just graduated as a doctor or a lawyer or heaven forbid ... an accountant! The rating … our 'score card' as parents is largely dependant on the success/failure of our children, according to society's 'yardstick'. Therefore it seems logical that parents would try to 'mould' their children to fit into the expectations of our society ... to become a docile member of the 'flock'.
Another selfish reason ... protect the dignity and stature of the family and the family name e.g. my father was a lawyer ... my grandfather was a lawyer etc
Now from the perspective of the children ... why would the child want to get a good education?
It's as good a reason as any to avoid going to work!
It's a status symbol e.g. I graduated in whatever from wherever and I am alpha sigma phi ... therefore I am not only OK ... I am more OK than most.
It's a ticket to a good job ... not only from the perspective of stature ... also from a monetary point of view. In mainstream society there is a direct correlation between education and annual salary ... more educa-tion usually means more money ... is this just?
Everyone is doing it these days ... why not? While the 'bar' has moved up in recent years this notion seems to have held true for a long time. Many years ago it was basic literacy education ... you were a 'nobody' if you couldn't read or write. Today seems it is a university degree ... tomorrow and to some extent already it’s ..."where did you get your university degree?"
In this simple example who is making the choices? We are 'penned' or 'fenced' in by our society, government, cultural heritage. Perhaps at a micro level we make personal choices. Although I am not sure this is true ... seems to me there is no greater pain than the 'pain of rejection'.
Physical pain is certainly difficult to endure. Today there are so many remedies to alleviate physical pain ... and eventually ... in most cases the physical pain goes away.
Emotional or psychological pain, like the pain of rejection cuts deep into our psyche and almost always never goes away. A growing number of psychologists and therapists support this notion.
So what has all this got to do with the fact that most sheep in the flock, while the flock is on the move, must keep their noses in the butts of the sheep in front of them ... most sheep in the flock have no idea where they are or where they are going ...
Seems to me one can build a strong case for parallels between this image and the evolution of mankind.
Who are we? ... Mankind
Where are we? ... Mankind
Where are we going? ... Mankind
If you can answer these questions, I would like to chat with you!
Reminded of the behaviour of young toddlers ... playing in a sand box. If one of the toddlers cannot have what he/she wants ... often he/she will pick up some sand ... throw it at the others and leave ... go look for another sand box.
Seems to me as adults we do the same thing ... if we find ourselves suddenly 'not in the game' or 'losing the game' ... there is a natural tendency to 'find another sand box or game or flock ... the current failure rate in marriages points to this phenomenon.
Or like me ... keep one foot in the 'game' and one foot on the 'outside' ... being neither fully committed to participating in the 'game' or fully committed to finding my own 'game' or building my own 'game' from scratch.
Writing these words reminds me of conversations I had with Xavier in Nerja Spain a year or so ago. To put this into perspective ... I will share an experience in Spain that placed a different 'spin' on my sheep story ... had an encounter with a 'spin doctor'.
At the time, I was a vagabond ... sleeping on the street and on the beach ... fortunately the motivation to do this only lasted a few days!
I was also working in the kitchen at the Nerja Lodge ... dish washer mostly. Occasionally after work I would go to the bar downstairs for a drink ... this was usually after midnight. I would never engage in any conversation, simply have my drink and leave.
One night I sat on a stool beside a gentleman from Scotland I think ... and somehow found myself engaged in conversation. I shared my sheep philosophy with him ... big surprise here eh!
When my story telling was finished he looked at me and asked ... "Bruce ... have you ever seen a farmer in England pen his sheep?"
I replied ... "no"
He said " There is always one stubborn sheep who will not go into the pen ... the farmer chases him around a while and eventually gets fed up and closes the gate ... leaving the sheep on the outside all alone"
Wow! That’s me ... there is no way I am going back into that pen. Matter of fact, seems that all my life I unconsciously and stubbornly refused to go into the pen.
This seemed to explain a lot about myself ... wow! ... From a complete stranger ... in a foreign country! Wonder how long it would have taken a therapist to get me this far towards understanding myself?
The next day my understanding of myself would get another boost from another almost stranger.
While walking aimlessly around town, I met a lady who I knew enough only to say 'olah' when passing. This particular day it seems I was in the mood for chatting. I shared my new spin on my sheep philosophy ... the 'spin' I received from the Scottish fellow at the bar the night before.
I should note that I had not written my article Philosophical Fodder yet.
She listened attentively and responded in a friendly and gentle tone ... "Bruce ... you are circling the pen" ... the sheep pen that is.
My 'inner self' became so excited for the next few hours ... between the gentleman at the bar and the lady on the street ... I was given an image that seemed to explain the last several years of my life. Seems I had spent enough time in the 'pen' conforming to the 'recipe' for a good life ... doing all that main stream society suggests ... and after 40 years or so what did I have to show for it!.
Yet at the same time, despite this very strong notion that I could not go back into the 'pen' ... I also did not have the courage to simply 'walk' away and 'wander in the desert' so to speak ... thus I would 'walk around the pen' ... and ... 'walk around the pen' ... and 'walk around the pen'!
Every once in a while one of the 'sheep' in the pen would stick their head out between the cedar rails as I was approaching. I would stop and we would chat a while ... this image supported for me all the brief encounters I experienced as I travelled and also during those periods while I stayed in Canada. Once in a while, I would explain to my fellow 'sheep' who had stuck his/her head out between the rails that I must be moving on ... the 'sheep' would walk along the rails ... remain-ing inside the 'pen' ... and me walking along the outside.
This image seemed to explain those encounters where an 'intellectual' convergence seemed to take place between me and the other person ... but the other person was unable or perhaps more accurately stated ... unwilling to leave the 'pen' ... the need to belong is so strong.
When I shared these images with Xavier he quickly put it in perspec-tive for me ... and while his words ... his tone of voice ... and his body language were all very gentle ... the 'truth' that he spoke was not very flattering. He explained that I was willing to participate in and share all the perks and advantages of mainstream society ... e.g. take an airplane to Europe ... use flush toilets etc and at the same time bitch and gripe about the 'recipe' for a good life. This experience was like a cold shower for me ... shocking at first ... yet refreshing after your body clematises to the cold water. I have tried to keep Xavier's wise counsel in mind ever since.
Thus ... one foot in the 'sand box' ... in the 'game' ... and one foot out! Oh! How I hope I will be able to pull the other foot out soon! Maybe I will make enough 'noise' and be 'pushed out' ... ouch!!
Another subject that 'tickled the ears of my mind' ... as St Augustine would say ... while walking ... what a marvel our mind is ... it has wings like an eagle ... taking us up ... way up ... soaring ... way beyond the boundaries of the practical reality of life ... day to day life in particular.
Our mind takes us on a 'fantasy journey' ... even simple day dreams are an instance of this notion. The same mind ... while we are soaring at 30,000 feet ..."flying higher than a kite" ... as the expression goes ... think this expression also applies to the effects of alcohol and certain drugs ... reminds itself ... now here is the mystery ... how can our mind remind itself (Augustine). Nonetheless, while soaring at 30,000 feet ... sober ... our mind reminds itself that it really doesn't have 'wings like an eagle' ... it really shouldn't be 'up here' ... it is dangerous up here ... and than without warning some part of our mind 'wakes up' ... realizes what has happened ... takes control ... and takes us back down ... for a nice soft landing right? ... Nope! ... Splat! ...thump! ... Ouch!!
This hurts ... this notion is also a question of degree. Most adults can relate to themselves being 'snapped' out of a daydream or observing someone else who is being 'snapped' out of their daydream ... usually the individual coming out (coming down in the 'splat' mode) takes a fraction of a second to get his/her bearings ... one can see written all over his/her face ... "Where am I?" ... "Where was I?"
One would think that after going through this experience ... voluntarily ... so many times ... so many times ... one would find a way of staying 'grounded' ... of avoiding the hurtful 'splats'. Seems to me the same result applies for those who fly sober and those who choose alcohol or drugs to get themselves 'high'.
It often happens to me in the mornings ... not every morning but certainly often enough. Somewhere along the way I developed the habit of going to bed early ... around 7:00 PM and after a few consecu-tive nights of this I would wake up early ... 4:00 AM,. Not a conscious intentioned decision ... more a 'self defense' response. This started when I was suffering considerable emotional pain ... sleep seemed to be the only 'peace' I could find. I also learned, after the fact, that the hours from 4:00AM to 7:00AM are the most peaceful hours. Now it seems logical ... most healthy and sane people are sleeping ... the partying crowd has just gone to bed ... most businesses are closed except the 24/7 factories ... less vehicle traffic etc
Perfect for 'soaring' ... being a smoker ... my body insists that I get out of bed and satisfy its' craving for nicotine and caffeine ... seems the absence of nicotine and caffeine don't bother our bodies during our sleep ... but when the 'cock crows' ... that moment when you come into consciousness ... our mind says ... louder and louder ... feed me ... feed me ... I need a nicotine fix now!
So I get up and go out ... for the past few years this routine has become increasingly difficult ... no coffee shop where one can sit and smoke ... so I buy a coffee at Tim Horton drive thru ... go to my favourite parking spot ... often on James street ... hmmm (Santiago is Spanish for St James) and more often than not I 'fly away'. Later in the morning or certainly by mid afternoon I have usually 'crashed'. My morning fantasy brings me down from 30,000 feet like a 'lead balloon’!
Reminds me of Job ... think this is in the story of Job ... he is referring to the Virgin Mary ..."You visit me in the morning and You chastise me in the afternoon ..."
Seems to me Walt Disney was well aware of this phenomenon when he developed the Bugs Bunny and the Coyote cartoons based on this notion. I am the 'Coyote' going through 'splat' after 'splat' ... 'kaboom' after ‘kaboom' and never able to catch the elusive rabbit.
"Life is useless ...it's like chasing the wind"
Yet again, like the 'Coyote' ... I have no intention of giving up!
May 29, 2004
Back again ... about 24 hours later ... in a café in Livery ... 2nd coffee of the morning ... walked about 5 kilometers so far. Reviewing my notes from yesterday ... trying to figure out where my head was when I was writing ... not that it matters ... especially since most of the time ... most of my life ... I never know whether I am 'coming or going'!
The coffee is strong ... real strong ... I usually ask for a large coffee with hot milk. This morning when I was in Saint-Pierre-le-Moutier I ordered my coffee in my usual way ... large coffee with heated milk. Before my coffee arrived ... the lady who was to prepare my coffee referred to it as a 'café crème' ... in response to a query from Martial ... thought to myself ... that must be the correct French terminology for what I try to order as a coffee with heated milk ... her café crème was delicious!
Now for my second coffee this morning ... here at Livry ... I order "large café crème' ... assuming I will receive coffee with heated milk ... nope! My coffee arrives in a cup and a small pitcher of crème arrives alongside. Cream ...Yuk! ... I don't like cream in my coffee ... and it is not even heated ... double Yuk! Oh well! ... I remind myself ... you do not always get what you ask for!
In reviewing my notes noticed I forgot to write about the 'race horse' ... the story of the race horse who had a passion for racing and an even stronger passion for winning, who one day dropped dead just before the finish line. Not sure if this story is factual or another one of those fables with the intention of teaching us something. In any event, seems to me this story is also a 'testimony' to the mystery of our mind or our brain works. The 'will' to race must be created by the mind of the horse ... the 'will' to win must be created by the same mind ... the same mind houses the horse's 'radar system ... that intuitive system that notifies the horse of imminent danger before the danger arrives.
I believe horses are noted for their keen radar ... able to sense danger long before us two legged animals are able to sense the same danger. Perhaps this notion of mine comes from watching too many cowboy movies as a child!
A long and winding road to make this point ... non trivial in my view Why did the race horse's radar ... warning system ... not notify itself that death was inevitable if it did not stop before reaching the finish line?
How is it that one part of the mind seems to work against another part of the mind ... our fingers don't 'fight' wit each other!
The popular Western expression “Thank God it’s Friday” speaks volumes. The restaurant chain T.G.I.F. confirms the cultural significance of the sentiment. This restaurant chain has stores in China … evidence the sentiment is spreading around the world.
This expression points to the phenomenon of the race horse. In our mind we know we are slaves to the system … we don’t want to be … we are relieved when Friday comes along with a temporary escape … but we all go back into the rat race on Monday … Monday morning blues. How is it that our mind which is the central tool ensuring our survival can keep us in this danger. Where is free will … how can we freely will self destruction.
"Life is useless ... it's like chasing the wind!"
There is one more reflection/meditation I had while walking yesterday. This morning it seems this particular meditation/reflection is best shared after describing the events of the past 24 hours.
Martial arrived at the church ... I was sitting ... leaning on my back-pack ... and my backpack was leaning against the wall of the church ... comfortable enough! ... I was writing at the time.
My writing seemed more important to me than conversation with Martial ... although we exchanged a few sentences ... he planned to go and grab a sandwich and I would continue writing.
After my appetite for writing was satisfied I hit the road again. Met Martial at the local restaurant ... we headed out together ... walked together until about 9:00 PM ... a long and hard 15 kilometers. Martial wanted to stop ... I wanted a coffee ... my need for caffeine won the day! Martial followed along ... he seemed anxious about finding lodging for the night ... my mind couldn't get past the caffeine fix!
Somewhere along the way Martial shared one of his morning experiences ... he had purchased a 'chaplet' ... a mini Rosary ... 10 beads and a cross. While looking right at me he stated ... je deteste le chaplet ... assuming 'deteste' has a similar meaning to the word detest in English ... his body language seemed to confirm my assumption. He went on to say how his friends back home would laugh at him. I pulled my Rosary out of my pocket and shared with him that I carry my Rosary with me all the time ... most nights to bed with me ... yet I rarely recite the Rosary. I remember as a child kneeling around my mother's bed with my siblings(probably 5 or 6 of them at the time) praying the Rosary ... more accurately stated ... my mom was praying the Rosary and if I didn't kneel and appear to be participating I would likely have received a 'smack' of sorts.
Parenting was much easier back then ... today the 'smack' would likely be considered child abuse! At the time I have no recollection of having any 'relish' for the Rosary or prayer ...or ... between the age of 10 and 43 I never had anything to do with the Rosary.
Now here is Martial who detests the Rosary buying a miniature Rosary in Nevers ... the place where St Bernadette rests. In the story of St Bernadette, which I read several years ago, one detail I remember is apparently she pulled her Rosary out of her pocket at the beginning of the first apparition of the Blessed Virgin Mary ... seemed important to me at the time ... and obviously is still important to me today. Maybe that is why I keep my Rosary in my pocket ... I want to be prepared when She (Mary) shows up!
Whew! I am writing so much and covered so little ground! Martial and I arrived in Saint-Pierre-le-Moutier ... I bolted for the café bar and my caffeine fix ... Martial elected to attempt to satisfy his anxiety about lodging for the night ... no luck ... seems we were both destined to sleep under the stars ... not really!
Martial had noticed a place on the way into town that seemed to him a good place to sleep ... he has lots of experience sleeping outdoors. We slept ... more accurately stated ... we spent the night lying on the ground underneath some large cedar trees. We couldn't see the sky through the trees. My big concern was mosquitoes!
Seemed to me trying to sleep under large cedar trees in Ontario at this time of year is akin to suicide ... needless anxiety on my part ... no sign of mosquitoes all night. Yet what I hadn't worried about did show up ... it was cold ... quite cold ... strange noises from time to time ... voices where voices should not be ... persistent noise of local traffic. We were only a few meters from a major highway. On a few occasions I awoke to discover some multi legged creature exploring my face! I simply discouraged him/her ... pushed it off my face!! Nonetheless remained in this place until about 8:00 AM
Forgot to mention, somewhere along the way, before heading out on the walk to Saint Pierre I noticed the name Joan of Arc in the guide. The guide has numerous details of churches and other historical attractions along the route. Usually I pay no attention to this part of the guide ... only when I am looking for a caffeine fix!
In any event, there were the words 'Joan of Arc' ... who has crossed my path a few times in the past several years. Seems my 'inner being' was feeling compelled to investigate this 'Joan of Arc Chappell. As it turns out, it is a good thing I do not have a good understanding of French ... if I had I would never have found what I found!
On the way back into town this morning Martial mentions that he knows of an ADP nearby. ADP is an individual family who will accommodate pilgrims ... a meal and a bed for a reasonable cost. He says it is about 6 kilometers away ... why didn't he mention it last night?
Of course, last night I was too kaput to walk another 6 kilometers, although I may have consented to taking a taxi! We go to cross the street and a middle aged couple approaches us ... very friendly looking ... yup! ... Turns out they are the people who accommodate pilgrims ... hmmm ... synchronicity? Their house is on the Camino about 6-7 kilometers further south. I tell myself, I wouldn't have gone there last night anyway because I had this inner nagging to check out the Joan of Arc chapel(church ... or so I thought at the time).
Martial heads for the local church and I head for the Joan of Arc church. About 100 meters down the street is a large statue of Joan of Arc ... sitting on a horse ... flag in one hand ... sword in the other. That look of steely determination and courage on her face ... similar to the statue I saw a few years ago. I read the plaque ... "Joan of Arc ... liberator of Ste Pierre in 1429 ... I got goose bumps ... I had no idea she was involved in liberating this village.
I continued on my way looking for the church ... no church! ... An old age home called "Foyer de Jeanne D'Arc". I am confused now ... not unusual eh! ... I make some inquiries and discover that the guide notes describe a stained glass window in the church ... hmmm! I head for the church ... it's locked ... hmmm ... what's going on here?
I hit the road ... feeling quite OK especially considering I hardly slept all night and yesterday's walk was so difficult. My mind starts to wander back to the Statue of Joan of Arc. I remember saying to Martial yesterday that some say Joan of Arc changed the course of history ... suppose they are speculating ... had England defeated France at the time what may have happened. The time of Joan of Arc was prior to the extensive colonization pursued by several European countries ... England, France, Spain, Portugal, and Holland
A few minutes later my mind went back to 1429 and suddenly brought into conscious thought "1492" ... my mind simply transposed the last two digits. Connecting dots …1492 ... Columbus ... Seville last year ... the first street sign in St Pere this year … St Pere is an abbreviation for St Pierre ... colonization ... Yikes! I better stop now and go walking so I can get 'grounded' again!
Just before I go I should at least introduce the topic I alluded to several words back ... there is one more reflection I had while walking yester-day.
My mind went back to the time I scribbled the note in the coffee shop in Guelph ... under the heading "It's time to fish or cut bait”. I spent some time thinking I really don't know what this expression means or where it comes from. Seems to me it means the same as "shit or get off the pot".
Being a Northern Ontario boy I am more comfortable reflecting on the latter. I will share my reflections next time I feel like writing.
12:20 PM ... I have another 15 kilometers to walk today ... Martial made arrangements for me to sleep at some ADP down the road ... don't understand why! ... Especial ... why just for me ... and not for himself as well?
Back again ... a couple of hours and 5-6 kilometers later. I just walked through La Veurdre ... seems today is another one of those 'involuntary fasting' days. I expected to get something to eat in La Veurdre ... nope! ... All the stores are closed ... local café too!
Maybe now I understand why the very friendly young lady at the café bar in Livry offered me an extra bottle of water. I had asked her to fill mine 50cl ... whatever that means and out of the blue she says ... I have another small bottle ... would you like to take it as well? I was about to say no ... why would I need it? The next village is only about 5 kilometers away and I plan to stop there and get something to eat.
My mind played eenie meeni mynie mow' (how do you spell the words to this expression anyway!) a dozen times in the next 2 seconds and landed on ..."I'll take it" ... don't know why?
Perhaps now I do ... my bottle is almost empty and it could be a ways before I find the next public access to water. Amazing how my needs are known to others before me … this young woman was another angel on my journey.
It’s often the small insignificant events in life that have a deep meaning. The young lady seemed to know I would need more water. Perhaps there is a parallel here with our ancestry. We are undeniably the fruit of our ancestors tempered by the extenuating circumstances of our lifetime. My personality and character is in large part attributable to my parents and grandparents.
I have the benefit of 18 years of life with my parents and they in turn have the about the same with their parents. Direct living influence. St Augustine wrote “Lord, you provided the pricks to move me in the direction you wanted me to go.” He was talking about his poor working conditions in Cartage that prompted him to move to Rome.
The same case can be made for ancestry … something to the effect … “Lord, you provided me with my parents and grandparents etc to move me in the direction you want me to go.”
I'm sitting on a park bench ... in the shade ... a small pond behind me with a bunch of ducks quacking away. In the last hour or so my mind went back to another childhood memory ... summer of 1958 ... wow I even remember the year. My parents had gone to the Calgary stampede ... I was left with my grandmother (my dad's mom). Can't remember if I was left there alone or with one of my siblings (had 5 0r 6 at the time ... probably alone being the trouble maker that I likely was at the time).
Anyhow, this memory involves me being on my knees again ... in the corner of my grandmother's kitchen ... and no I wasn't praying on this occasion either!. Can't remember what I did ... must have been pretty bad though! See ... I haven't always been a little angel ... could make a strong case for having always been a bit naughty though!
As you know my mom is Catholic ... French Canadian Catholic. I sup-pose her ten children and her passion for the Rosary give it away! I learned a couple of years ago that my grandma on my dad's side was Methodist (I think) ... found out her dad's name (my great grandfather) was Adam (as in Adam and Eve) and his middle name was Elijah as in the prophet Elijah. Reminds me of my visit to Al Muhakra ... the hill in Israel where Elijah had the showdown with the prophets of Baal. Elijah’s expression at the event … “How long will we limp along with two opinions”
At the same time I learned my grandmother's middle name is Salome ... apparently a derivative of the Hebrew word 'Shalom', meaning peace be with you.
I don't remember my grandmother being a 'religious' woman ... perhaps she was simply a 'spiritual' woman whose faith was strong enough that she didn't need to flaunt it with the 'externals' ... the various religious practices. I'm sure my dad told us when we were kids that he was 'fed' a lot of Scripture by his mom.
My dad was like his mom ... he never overtly demonstrated any affinity for 'religion'. He showed his faith by how he lived ... he was a very wise and very strong man. I remember him telling me one time that he quit his membership in the masons because his fellow members harassed him about allowing his children to be baptized Catholic.
My dad always put his family first ... something I still have to learn! ... and I am running out of time!!
My dad also had his own version of the "Hail Mary" which I only heard him recite once or twice ..."Hail Mary full of Grace ... wash your hands before your face"
On the surface this seems blasphemous ... and my dad smiled ... a friendly smile ... when he spoke these words. Have no idea where he first heard them. From a practical perspective though ... seems logical that we should wash our hands before we wash our face!
I'm confident my dad meant no offence ... he drove my mom to church every Sunday for so many years and I think on one or two occasions went into the church with my mom. Both my dad’s parents and grandparents were
My dad’s sister Ruby wrote this poem for my grandmother’s 80th birth-day. The poem serves as a reminder that my dad’s parents lived their adult life in humble circumstances in exile. I believe the move North was prompted by misfortunes in the south.
Happy 80th Birthday – Flossie Morley
It’s not just on your birthday, Mom, we wish you happiness, Our love and thoughts are you, more than you’ll ever guess, We pray for you most every day, and ask our Lord above, To graciously bestow on you, the blessings of His love.
You spent your childhood living in the house behind the barn In the little village of Kirkton, where grandpa used to farm, It’s only fifty miles from here and it’s much the same today Did you ever walk to Woodham, did you ever help to mow the hay?
Much later you and dad were wed, and northward did you roam You settled down in Monetville and built yourselves a home You fashioned it of logs, dear Mom, just like the pioneers, A home that heard much laughter, and even a few tears.
Remember, Mother, all the things you’ve knit down through the years, You’d crochet things, you’d sew and quilt and find time to dry our tears, You may think we’ve forgotten, Mom, but we remember well: The picnic lunches in the bush; the fun we had with Pal.
We know you loved to hear the frogs, it meant spring was round the bend, For the winter months were long and hard, we thought they’d never end. Remember how the wolves did howl( we thought we’d die from fright), But you’d laugh away our fears , dear Mom, and gently hold us tight.
You’d like to see the whippoorwills, they’d sooner run than fly; You’d watch them run along the rocks, (did you ever find out why?) We didn’t have electric lights, no plumbing and no phones; And we couldn’t pop into a store for candy, gum or cones.
Twas seventy miles to Sudbury, the same to reach North Bay. And we couldn’t watch the trains go by (they were forty miles away); But we recall our childhood days were filled, with fun and love And for them, many times we’ve knelt, and thanked the Lord above.
The years have quickly sped away, your children all have wed; Your family tree has grown and grown, how quickly it has spread; You’re grandma now to forty, and great-grandma to twenty, they say, And you have a great-great- grandchild now – how happy you must be today.
And now that your birthday is over – may the year that’s just begun, Turn out to be a happy year – in fact, your nicest one. And Mother, tho’ you hate to hear us brag or make a fuss, We thought today, you’d like to know, you mean the world to us.
OK ... now it seems I have paid appropriate tribute to both my mom and my dad ... the very little respect and gratitude I have expressed ... there is much more in my heart that perhaps I will find a way to express some-time.
A very special experience ... the visit to Café du Chalet Bar Tabac the gift of a lighter ... losing my regular lighter and being forced to use the gift.
The picture of the Indian Chief and the words:
"Once you have polluted the last river, once you have felled the last tree, killed the last buffalo, only then will you realize that you cannot eat all the money that you have put in your banks. Let us take the earth back"
May 30, 2004
Around 1:00PM ... it's been almost 24 hours since I put down my pen ... and again so much has happened in the last 24 hours ... how will I be able to write it all down. The excitement of the events is still so fresh in my mind. I must try hard not to embellish the facts or direct the experiences towards my personal views.
Here goes ... I will attempt to recall what happened in chronological order ... in point form and perhaps in more detail at some later date.
Yesterday I put down my pen ... picked up my backpack and 'hit the road' so to speak. After walking about 20 meters I hear this whistle ... the kind of whistle that says ...hey you ... look over here ... I turn around ... it's Martial ... hmmm ... I should have seen him when I got up to leave ... he was that close ... nope!
Several hundred words back I mentioned "Martial heads for the church and I head for the Joan of Arc Church ... this was first thing in the morning and I hadn't seen him since ... several hours.
We walked along together for a bit ... again Martial had difficulty keeping up with my slow pace and he walked on ahead of me. A few kilometers down the road Martial stopped to rest ... while tired and sore I wasn't ready to put down my backpack. I think I simply preferred to stop ahead somewhere so I could rest in solitude ... me and my thoughts and no interference ... how selfish eh!
A few kilometers later ... I'm lost! ... and I know I’m lost ... for me there is a huge difference. Most of the time I’m lost ... figuratively speaking! Yet I don't know I'm lost so it doesn't bother me
At this particular moment it bothers me that I am lost ... I make my best intuitive guess ... turn right and start down the hill ... about 80 meters down the hill my inner voice says ... this doesn't seem right. I stop for a bit ... turn around and head back up the hill ... for a pilgrim there is no worse experience than to go back over the same ground ... seems to me most pilgrims (those walking) prefer to keep going. In any event I head back ... and it's up hill no less! ... Yikes!!
At the top of the hill I study the guide again ... try to figure out from the map which direction to go ... I even ask the people who are working in the field beside the road. Seems they don't know the Camino St Jacques. I sing out the names of a few places on the map and they assure me that I should go back down the hill and eventually I will see a sign indicating the right direction.
Still doesn't seem right ... but on I go.
This little experience had a small 'side effect'. Because I was forced to study the map more closely ... a rare event for me ... I noticed that I had passed a place called "Le Trou de Diable" ... whew! ... Not so disap-pointed that I didn't see it ... and quite content that I did not fall into it!
My mind is amused at this point ... here I am putting the final touches on the meditation I have mentioned several times and still not written about the one associated with the expression "It's time to shit or get off the pot" ... and poof ... I get lost ... study the map ... and find I have not fallen into "Le Trou de Diable".
I keep walking ... now recognize where I am ... missed a turn and I need to make a long detour (1-2 kilometers) ... which is a long ways when you are Kaput! ... to get back on the Camino.
The sun is shining ... it's hot(about 33 degrees ... saw this on one of those electronic billboard things in town) My eyes notice something on the other side of the road ... curiosity aroused ... my eyes zoom in for a closer look ... oops! ... this is a snake! ... a big snake!! ... biggest I have ever seen snake ... 2-3 coils about 12" or so in diameter ... I figure this snake is about 3 feet long.
I had to look real hard to find it's head ... it was resting on one of the coils ... yikes! I have always had an aversion to snakes ... don't know why? ... I keep on walking ... saying to myself ...the snake is only sunning him-self/herself ... yellow stomach ... silver and grey color.
Good thing I was on the opposite side of the road ... being semi-comatose I would likely have stepped right on it!! ... not likely ... hopefully it would have moved first?
Intriguing .... first I am goaded into learning about "Le Trou de Diable" ... without being taken there for a visit ... and a few minutes later I am given this experience of the huge 'snake' all coiled up across the road from me ... like he is watching me ... waiting to strike?
So within a few minutes I was lost ... because I was lost ... I studied the map ... no help ... I take the wrong road and I see this big snake ... now I am feeling a bit intimidated.
The wrong road eventually takes me through a small village ... I think to myself ... alas! ... taking the wrong road would also deliver a 'blessing' ... I can have a coffee or drink sooner than I expected ... my 'involuntary' fast of the day would end ... you see there is an "R" on the map ... mean-ing there is a restaurant here ... no such luck! The restaurant is closed ... my involuntary fast is still on! ... Yuk!
Eventually I arrive in the town where my days walk is expected to end. By this time I have no cigarettes ... well I still have one pack of 'Players' in my backpack ... my eyes scan the horizon and I see a 'Tabac" sign ... but the store seems closed.
A motorcyclist pulls up beside the "Tabac' store ... hmmm ... if he heads for the door I will know if it's open or not and save myself a few steps ... he does ... the 'Tabac' store is open! ... I'm content now.
I head across the street ... I walk past the door to check out the 'Bar' next door ... seems closed ... Oh well! ... I'll buy my smokes and head across the street to the other 'Bar'. While buying my smokes I notice that the 'Tabac' shop and the Bar are connected and the door between them is open. Kind of dark and smoky ... not too appealing.
For some reason I decide it's not such a bad idea to go pee pee here. I ask the girl if I can use the washroom ... response ..."Oui" ... off I go.
On the way to the washroom and on the way back (to retrieve my back-pack in the Tabac shop) I notice several paintings of 'Indians' ... Indian Chiefs, Indian Girl etc. I study them ... now I am intrigued ... how is it that a bar in a small town in France has so much North American Indian art and paraphernalia.
Of course, I inquire ... turns out the gentleman to whom I direct my enquiry is the owner ... he explains to me that since he was young he has had this passion for the North American Indian. He has a library of stuff ... cassettes and whatever ... says he knows all the tribes etc I think to myself ... how interesting! I buy an orange juice and sit for a moment ... I want to explore this a bit more.
Chat more with the owner ... share with him that I believe I have some North American Indian ancestry. He warms up a lot towards me ... gives me a lighter ... the bar's name and address and a logo of an Indian with an eagle ... wow!! I think to myself ... this gentleman really does have a passion for the North American Indian.
A few minutes later I tell him I must leave ... he offers me a drink ... I decline explaining that I am on the Camino and I need to go outside and wait for a friend (Martial)
I originally planned to go across the street for a coffee ... a feeling of 'guilt' wouldn't allow me to now ... the bar across the street is visible through the window of the bar I just left ... I would feel terrible if he saw me at the bar across the street just after declining his generous offer (the drink)
I sit on the sidewalk ... contemplating what just happened ... seemed to me that today is a day to honour my ancestors ... a few hundred(maybe thousand) words back I wrote a bit about my mom ... my dad ... and my dad's mom and her dad. Perhaps it is now time to say a few words about my mom's parents ... Rose and Tom.
Perhaps for the moment, I will focus on my mom’s mother Rose. I believe Rose was born in Britt around 1890 ... if not born there ... spent some of her childhood there. I also believe Rose has North American Indian ancestry ... and therefore so do I. I have tried on several occasions to confirm this and so has one of my sisters ... Joanne ... no luck!.
I decided a few years ago ... i will simply take it as true and 'honour' them (North American Indians) as my ancestors and in a metaphysical way ... seek their help. There is so much more to share on this particular subject but I must move on or I will never finish (Golden Pond? Egansville)
I am quite excited about this experience ... I take it as an endorsement of my heritage ... the North American Indian component.
I decide to phone the lady Martial called this morning to arrange a room for me ... partly out of moral obligation ... I wouldn't want this lady to wait around for me and me not show up and partly because I figured maybe Martial called her again to arrange lodging for himself.
Found my telephone card and a pay telephone was 20 meters away ... no answer ... both numbers ... no connection with the first number and I declined the request to leave a message. The second number dialed I got the message "person is not available. I hung up and took a look at my phone credits ... the card I bought started at 50 credits ... this last phone call ... for a recorded message ... "person not available" ... cost me 5 credits ... ouch!
Not a good feeling. I called Paula to ask for some help to arrange insur-ance for the car so Sherry could drive it. The phone call to Paula ... Canada ... lasted longer ... had to leave my message ... and only cost 3 credits. Under my breath I am cursing the phone card system and think-ing how I just wasted 5 credits trying to connect with the owner of the ADP. The experience with the lady in the train station on the arrival in Paris.
With these unfriendly thoughts and feelings I open the door to the phone booth and head back to my backpack which I had left on the sidewalk.
As I am stepping out of the phone booth ... no more than 3 paces away ... a car pulls up and the lady driving the car ... an elderly lady ... turns her head towards me and starts talking ... she asks me ... "are you the pil-grim?"
Yup! ... the lady is Mme Vergut ... the lady who Martial had called this morning ... the person I was just trying to connect with by phone.
Quel surprise! ... my unfriendly thoughts and feelings of a few seconds earlier evaporate ... vanish! ... and are replaced with 'awe' and 'joy' ... wow! ... now not only have I made a contact ... I don't have to walk the one and a half kilometers to her house ... Cadeau de Dieu ... synchronicity ... who cares! .... I don't have to walk anymore today!
I sober up quickly from this exuberance when I remember Martial ... where is he? ... Does he have lodging for tonight? After all he made the phone call this morning and while I recall he made arrangements for me only ... I continue to be anxious about his welfare. I explain to Mme Vergut ... she is so charitable ... says she knows the Camino and will go looking for him. She drives around for a while ... stops twice to make enquiries ... people she knows who live alongside the Camino ... he will find his way.
On arrival at Mme Vergut's home I find the piece of paper Martial had given me several days earlier. I remember that he had mentioned earlier in the day ... if we get lost or separated ... call me or send me an email to let me know how your Camino finished. I learned later that in his mind I would spend the night at the ADP and out of necessity he would have to sleep somewhere else ... hence the assumption of separation.
I give the piece of paper to Mme Vergut and she assures me that she will call him right away.
Perhaps a few words about Mme Vergut's home ... it's a Château!! ... a huge Château!! ... How exciting. She stops at what I learn later is the former 'farmers' residence ... a separate building around 50 meters from the 'Château'. This particular building has not been used for several years ... not by the 'farmer's' family in any event. I learn later that Mme Ver-gut's family and the 'farmer's' family have been here ... on this property ... for three generations. Mme Vergut mentions her memory of going to school together with the 'farmer's' children.
Exciting news! ... Challenges my earlier views of life in a 'Château'. So much I could write here ... but again ... I must move on before I run out of ink! ... out of paper! ... or out of energy!
Mme Vergut makes a telephone connection with Martial ... she goes to pick him up ... he arrives ... what a day!
Mme Vergut shows us the fridge ... 3 beers in it ... spring water ... carbonated water ... I think ... how generous!
She informs me that 'we' will eat together around 8:30 PM ... she tells me this before she finds Martial.
We have a wonderful meal together ... pizza ... ordeuves ... fresh straw-berries ... caramel pudding ... wow!! ... conversation ... the most exciting part being Mme Vergut's sharing her memory of the day 3 Canadian soldiers 'dropped' out of the sky in her front yard ... fortunately they were wearing parachutes! ... What a day!
Mme Vergut's sister ... Mme Mercier is also visiting and supping with us ... somewhere in the conversation the subject of Ste Bernadette comes up ... turns out she is her favourite Saint ... hmmm
On leaving the house Mme Vergut and Martial are chatting ... I'm not really sure what they are talking about ... seems they are attempting to speak in simple French so I can understand ... I am not at all offended ... my mind is 'turbocharged' … trying to assimilate all that has happened today.
I hear the word Joan of Arc ... Mme Vergut mentions her ... I remember that Martial lives about 100 kilometers from where Joan of Arc spent her childhood. Martial had told me this earlier in the day. At this point I figure out that Mme Vergut is telling Martial that she is familiar with the area where he lives ... if not his village ... hmmm ... what a day!
I sleep like a baby ... coffee and breakfast around 8:00AM ... a soft knock at the door announces its arrival. Mme Vergut had mentioned the night before that the lady who helps her maintain the Château would be here in the morning and would bring us coffee et al if we like. Thinking about my morning need for a caffeine fix ... I accepted her generous offer.
Walked to town to attend mass ... lacked the trust to wait for Mme Mercier who had offered us a ride to town the night before ... she planned to attend mass as well.
Today is Pentecost Sunday ... hmmm
I find Mme Mercier waiting outside the church after mass ... she offers me a ride back to the Château ... I accept.
I write these last few pages and now I am pooped again ... still haven't got to my meditation ... maybe tonight ... who knows? ... Who cares?
What a 24 hours!
Martial's story about why he called the ADP in the morning ... assumed the ADP would only have room for one pilgrim and Martial was more concerned about me than about himself ... what generosity!!
Lost my lighter ... the gift I received at the bar ... the lighter with the eagle on it ... I packed away intending to keep as a souvenir ... lost my lighter somehow at Mme Vergut's and had to use the 'gift' ... kept using it until it ran out of fluid back in Canada a month or so later.
May 31, 2004 Been about 24 hours again ... it's around 1:00PM ... have walked about 10 kilometers ... in my shower sandals ... had to carry my boots ... they're all wet from yesterday ... ouch! ... More about this later.
The past 24 hours has several interesting twists and turns ... by the time I get to writing about them I hope I can remember them. I may never catch up with myself ... the pen seems willing enough to go fast ... but my hands are too sore .
I'm in Ainay le Château ... in the local café bar enjoying my favourite past time ... you guessed ... sipping on a coffee and smoking a cigarette. These moments are so much more 'special' on the Camino ... because it is usually several kilometers of walking in between ... oh! ... the small pleasures of a pilgrim.
I must get to writing about my meditation/reflection of the other day ... if not now ... I may forget all those 'crazy' thoughts I had.
Seems prudent to repeat the words (my paraphrase) of Thomas Kempis ..."Heed not the writer, read what is written and judge for yourself if there is any 'truth' in what you read."
Seems this particular reflection/meditation is another incident of 'Connecting the Dots' ... perhaps the 'seed' for what I am about to write was planted a year or so ago when I scribbled the note "It's time to fish or cut bait"
Here are the circumstances surrounding this particular 'scribbling'. I was in Guelph at the time, it was early in the morning ... between 3:00AM and 4:00AM. Some may say it was the middle of the night!
In any event ... it was one of those nights I felt compelled to get up and go out for one of my coffee and cigarette 'runs'. At the time there was no smoking allowed in any of the local coffee shops ... don't know why but I decided to drive to the Tim Hortons at Highway 6 and the 401 ... about 15 kilometers .
Seems I knew they still allowed smoking ... in the 'fishbowl' ... a small section of the coffee shop cordoned off with glass walls ... usually very smoky...Yuk!
I arrived at the coffee shop ... stopped the car and got out ... just as I stepped out of the car my 'inner voice' instructed me to take a pen and a piece of paper in with me. I stood there for a few seconds ... mulling around in my mind what this unexpected and highly unusual sentiment was all about. I resisted for a bit and finally said to myself ... OK ... what the heck. I'll take it in and see what happens.
I ended up writing a few words about a memory from Medugorje several years earlier ... around the expression ... "Any ‘dead’ fish can float down stream, it takes a ‘live’ fish to swim upstream" ... some thoughts about Joan of Arc and her going against the flow and changing the course of history. And the price one has to pay to go against the flow, people are simply not willing to pay the same price she paid … being burned at the stake. No more ... seemed that was all I had to write. So what was this all about? ... Who knows? ... Why did I save this particular 'scribbling' ... who knows? ... Who really cares?
As I write about this unusual experience ... the 'bizarre nature' of it strikes me even more ... 'something' wakes me from my sleep ... gets me out of bed and to a coffee shop 15 kilometers away to scribble a 100 words or so ... hmmm ... the words must convey something important?
Reminds me of the biblical story of Samuel ... he hears a voice calling him in the night ... he gets up and goes to his master and says ... here I am
Here is what I wrote that night
"Any ‘dead’ fish can float downstream; it takes a ‘live’ fish to swim upstream
I was reminded this morning of a cliché I heard in Medugorje (Bosnia Herzegovina) several years ago: “Any ‘dead’ fish can float down stream, it takes a ‘live’ fish to swim upstream”
Harsh words?
Begs the question … how is it that so many people perpetuate a ‘miser-able life' … day after day! The ‘misery’ is simply a question of degree … some days are simply ‘more miserable’ than others
We know in our ‘hearts’ that this is not good … yet we persist …
The story of Joan of Arc comes to mind … Joan was one of those people who refused ‘to go with the flow’ … some say she changed the course of history … and her ‘mission’ only lasted a couple of years. Those who know the ‘story’ also know the ‘price’ she paid.
Is it the ‘price’ we know we will have to pay if we choose ‘to swim upstream’ that keeps us ‘floating downstream … despite how ‘rough’ the ride gets.
Today, I don’t think we are worried about being ‘burned at the stake’ … the ‘price’ today (and always has been) … those who go against the flow are treated as ‘lepers’ by mainstream society.
Seems to me, the pain of ‘isolation’ is greater than the pain of participating in a ‘culture’ that we know is not producing good ‘fruit’.
“Any ‘dead’ fish can float downstream; it takes a ‘live’ fish to swim upstream”
PS At the same place (Medugorje) … Father Phillip(from the pulpit) uttered these words … “fighting for peace is like fornicating for chastity”
Just occurred to me, the 'seed' may have been planted in 1995. I quote an expression heard on my first visit to Medugorje ... Yikes!! ... my mind takes a long time to 'incubate' an idea or notion ... more accurately ... my mind had nothing to do with the 'incubation' ... 9 years is still a long time eh!
On with my meditation/reflection. You may recall I prefer the expression "It's time to shit or get off the pot" and it seems to me the two are analogous ..."It's time to fish or cut bait"
Let's break the expression up into 5 components and examine each component separately.
1) "It's time"....
2) "to shit" ...
3) "or" ...
4) "get off" ...
5) "the pot" ....
"It's time ... these two little words seem to intend to convey a sense of urgency ... a sense of 'now' ... the present .... a finite ... specific ... and definite point in time ... (just noticed that the similarity between the words 'finite' and 'definite' ... wonder if it is intentional?
"to shit" ... the word 'shit' has an impolite connotation and for many is considered inappropriate in all human conversation/writing. Let's set aside the 'morality' implications and look at what the word is intended to convey ... the process of expelling unwanted ... unnecessary for the maintenance of good health ... well being ... the component of that which was ingested ... orally or otherwise ... that is 'no good' ... sometimes it is simply everything eaten expelled ... our biological system is not in the 'mood' for separating what is good and necessary from what is 'bad and unnecessary' ... a condition known as diarreia!
All living creatures do it! ... expel waste that is!
A very necessary act ... most of us know the feeling when our biological system refuses to 'expel' this stuff ... often referred to as constipation ... uncomfortable and at times painful indeed!
The timing is normally unpredictable ... you don't hear someone saying ..."I will go for a shit tomorrow afternoon ... let's say at 3:00PM!
It happens when it happens ... young newborns provide an interesting perspective ... their facial expressions and vocal expressions during some of their 'acts of expulsion' are memorable ... they have not yet learned any rules of 'politeness' ... they simply do what comes naturally.
All of this suggests the process of expelling the unnecessary and un-wanted is sometimes painful and uncomfortable ... I will return to this point later.
"or" ... simple enough ... infers choice ... alternative ... one or the other ... not both.
"get off" ... infers movement ... exit ... change locations
"the pot" ... a specific location ... a public place ... a communal place. Why say 'get off' in the first place? ... other than to make room for someone else. We all know the feeling when we find ourselves in those uncomfortable circumstances where our biological system tells us it is "time" and someone else is on the 'pot' in the bathroom.
Another reference point that came to mind involved 'toddlers' ... that age where parents are trying to teach their children one of the rules of 'civilization' ... it is not OK to expel waste whenever and where ever you like ... one of 'civilizations' revolts against nature! This 'act of expulsion' is a personal and private act and one must follow the rules. OK so all parents can surely remember a time when their toddler was sitting on the pot and yet nothing is happening ... the toddler is having a good time ... but the parent grows impatient ... eventually ... perhaps without being explicit ... without saying to the toddler ..."shit or get off the pot" ... the parent somehow displaces the toddler.
Suppose for the purpose of meditation the 'pot' symbolizes the earth and the 'shit' symbolizes all that is unnecessary for our well being. Actions of mankind ... aggression ... war ... notion of private property etc.
Perhaps Mother Nature will behave the same way as the impatient parent and 'displace' us ... kick us off the planet!
Let's add to this image my comments earlier about how sometimes the 'act of expulsion' is at times painful and difficult ... especially if the 'waste' has been in our system for a while.
My mind is now drifting off to several other 'beta' points ... the scribbling 'vilification' ... when the time for birth arrives ... there is no stopping the process ... the difficulty and pain associated with child birth.
Here is the scribbling I just referred to as 'vilification' ... written almost exactly one year ago.
"Vilification" by pilgrim_tom - Guelph, Canada 02/18/2004 18:21 IT
Seems to me the nature of 'vilification' in all of its' forms derives from our 'animal' nature ... an innate survival instinct response. Ugly yet 'natural' Most peoples for several millenniums have subscribed to the notion that the human species has 2 natures ... 'animal' and 'divine' we all share the same 'animal' nature with minor variations depending on environmental conditions seems to me our individual 'religions' simply attempt to define our individual view of our 'divine' nature ... by most definitions of 'divine' ... this attitude will likely always fail because 'divine' is so far beyond human comprehension ... it defies being re-stricted to human traditions, definitions etc mankind is more 'connected' today than at any other time in history ... perhaps this 'connectedness' will facilitate a giant leap in the transformation of the human species from predominantly 'animal' to a closer reflection of the 'divine' seems to me the analogy of child birth ... (also used in the ancient Torah) provides the best imagery of just how difficult this 'transformation' will be ... aside from the difficulty and the pain usually associated with child birth is another truth ... once the time for birth has arrived ... there is no turning back ... there is no reversing the process ... either the child will be born or the child will die in it's mother's womb ... seems to me ... the choice is ours ... we can choose to die in the womb(here on earth) or we can choose to be born ... and see the 'light'
Another memory ... 'connecting the dots' ... is my experience surrounding my visit to Penalba Spain ... the 'mystery' surrounding how I got there ... how I learned a couple of years later that the word "Penalba" derives from two Spanish words ... "pena" and "alba" ... translated roughly as "difficult dawn"
In plain English ... for some time now I have harboured the belief that mankind is on the threshold of a major transformation ... perhaps the 'end of an age' ... in scope, similar to the ice age.
Why am I willing to share my opinion more publicly now? I have already shared it with some of the people who have crossed my path ... why in these particular circumstances? Who knows? ... Who cares?
"Life is useless ... it's like chasing the wind"
Back to the events of yesterday ... almost immediately after putting down my pen at Mme Vergut’s I get this strong feeling ... it's time to move on ... no dilly dallying ... get your stuff together and 'hit the road'.
I respond to my intuition ... like a child being given explicit instructions from it's mother!
Don't really know what time it is or where I will spend the night ... doesn't seem to bother me at the moment ... all I feel is ... time to move on ... like the television series ..."The Littlest Hobo" ... I'll be moving on ... until tomorrow.
Barely get off the property ... the laneway to the Château is at least 1/2 kilometers long ... and it starts to drizzle ... not a good sign! ... I decide to push on anyway ... what's a little water! ... turned into a lot more than a little water!
Pulled out my rain cover ... a large yellow thing that covers most of me and my backpack ... eventually the rain turned from a little drizzle to a mediocre rain. I found shelter under a tree ... made a tent from my yellow rain thing ... sat there leaning on my backpack ... reasonably comfortable and dry ... as long as I didn't stretch out my legs!
Rained on and off for a while ... a bit of thunder ... no lightening! After a short period of no rain ... less than half an hour ... I'm impatient ... think I have to get to the next village ... still 3-4 kilometers away ... my next caffeine fix!
I head out ... covered with my protective yellow thing. Sure enough ... a couple of hundred meters down the road the rain starts again ... a dark ominous cloud ... now on my left moves directly in front of me ... hmmm ... I think I am going to get wet! Yup! ... Drenched ... no tree for shelter ... my boots, socks and lower pants are drenched! Oh well! I slog along figuring I am wet now ... can't get any worse.
As I approach the village a bit of anxiety creeps in ... what if this is a 'one horse town'?? ... one café?? ... and being Sunday ... it's closed ...Yikes!
Turns out the local café is open ... the door is open as I approach ... what a relief! The people working in the restaurant are very kind ... they bring me to a room in the back where I can sleep on the floor ... large enough room ... probably used for groups on special occasions ... a washroom in the corner ... perfect!
I've had my coffee ... all I want now is some rest ... ideally some sleep! Roll out my bed roll ... put on some dry clothes and lie down. Seems I will be able to dose off ... it's around 7:00 PM ... my normal bed time in Canada ... and I'm not hungry.
About 45 minutes later I hear this familiar voice ... it's Mme Vergut ... what a pleasant surprise! ... I really like Mme Vergut (perhaps more about her later). She says "is that him? ... oh he is sleeping" I get up and lean on my hands. She says that when she asked the lady in the café up front about me ... she thought the answer was that I had a room ... a regular room ... with a bed and all!
She seemed quite surprised to see me sleeping on the floor and also quite genuinely concerned about my welfare. She offered to take me back to her Château ... now imagine that! ... yesterday I wanted to spend an extra day at the Château and I didn't have the courage to ask Mme Vergut ... and here she is asking me to come back and spend another night ... go figure!
Of course I decline ... I am content where I am , despite the fact that sleeping on the floor here is infinitely less comfortable ... and less private ... as I would learn later.
Mme Vergut goes on to explain that she was out with her 3 grandsons for supper and that she was looking for Martial ... to give him back the 30 euros he had left her. She seemed quite disappointed that Martial had left her a large cake, 2 coquilles de St Jacques and 30 euros. See ... I didn't leave her any grief ... only left her a note with my name and address.
She had told me in the car on the way to her place that she did not expect any payment from pilgrims ... such generosity! ... and of course el cheapo here wasn't going to argue!
Mme Vergut insisted that I take the 30 euros and either give them back to Martial or to someone else down the road. I really like Mme Vergut.
I tried to get back to where I was ... almost asleep ... nope ... about a half hour later I decide it is OK to get up and buy a bowl of soup. I only need to walk to the front of the building ... through the kitchen :-) ... of course ... having a cigarette was part of the consideration!
I'm 2-3 meters into the café and who is standing at the bar having a beer? ... Martial! We exchange greetings ... I ask him about wet feet ... No! No! he says ... "my feet are dry ... I found a tree and sat out the rain" ... hmmm .... seems Martial is more patient than me ... or at least much more practical!
I start to tell him about Mme Vergut ... he interrupts and says ... "Oui ... Oui ... she found me and told me the whole story" I would try to give Martial back his 30 euros in the next hour or so ... he refused to accept it ... hmmm ... so now I have progressed from finding cheap accommodations ... zero cost at Mme Vergut’s ... zero cost here at the café ... to where I am ahead 30 euros ... hmmm ... actually the 30 euros may cause some grief ... now I have no idea what to do with it ... in the meantime, the 30 euros are in my pocket. This generosity makes my $100 to the Irishman look paltry.
About an hour later Andre walks in ... haven't seen Andre since Vezelay ... the day I met his wife and daughter Sophie.
Pilgrims, who get along, are always happy to see each other after a few days of being 'out of touch'. Martial had met Andre in Vezelay as well.
We sit together, chat and later eat supper together. 'El cheapo' ... me with my bowl of soup (delicious) and Martial and Andre with a 4 course meal ... they insisted I share their meal ...I politely declined despite the fact that the soup ... some bread and a glass of wine seemed to only whet my appetite ... I would pay for this oopsy ... I wouldn’t have a chance to eat again for 24 hours ...ouch! ... next time
Except for the apple I was given as a gift at the café this morning ... and 3 coffees! (Portuguese lady and my book from Fatima)
Went to bed around 11:00 PM ... slept OK ... on and off ... didn't get up off the floor until 9:30 AM the next morning ... must have slept OK
Back into the café ... learn that Andre and Martial haven't left yet ... sip on my coffee ... smoke my cigarette ... what a treat!
The same nice lady is helping Martial and Andre make arrangements for lodging tonight ... she looks at me and asks ..."et vous?" ... I politely reply that at the moment I have no idea where I will walk today ... I am stuck walking in my shower sandals ... my boots will likely take a day or so to dry. The lady brings out a piece of bread some ham and one of those small packets of butter for Andre ... and Andre is so practical ... as I would learn later today ... I should try harder to be practical more often!
I explain my attitude to Andre ... on previous walks I would most often decide in the morning where I would stop for the day ... and the decision was most of the time based on availability of a 'bed'. On this walk, I am trying something new ... make no plans ... accept whatever comes along . Of course, in my mind I see pleasant outcomes ,,, e.g. a warm bed.
Not so today ... maybe I should go back to the old way ... make sure you have somewhere to eat and a bed to sleep in ... nah! ... been there ... done that!
Reminds me of an ancient Arab saying I heard several years ago ... "Trust in God but tie your camel tight!"
Seems today I am being reminded once again just how practical this expression is!! Oh well! ... I have never been big on 'practicality' ... why change now? The flip side of my 'cockiness' is ... stop whining and griping about having nothing to eat and no place to sleep ... comfortably!
Mr Peauger Jean Luc
4 Rue des Maures
03360 Ainay le Château
Walked about 10 kilometers today. On arrival in the village I learned that not only was the local bar/café open ... the Tabac store and grocery store too! …bonus!
A sign hanging over the café/bar suggested there might be access to internet here ... I start to get excited ... I can check my email ... learn of the response to the writing I posted a few days ago ... wow!
Found Martial at the computer ... hmmm ... seems our paths are destined to keep crossing. Drink my coffee, smoke a few cigarettes and wrote about my meditations/reflections.
Martial leaves ... he seems rushed ... he has another 20 kilometers to walk to where he is supposed to sleep tonight. See it is not always so 'peaceful' to make plans in the morning. Martial is upset that he spent one and one half hours in the café. (I would not see Martial again ... and I would have my own reasons for being upset that I spent a couple of hours in this same café/bar!
Check my emails ... a few new emails ... no response from Ron ... no new postings on the web page and therefore no feedback. Email from Natalie ... the 3 trees.
Remembered my scribbling a ways back about how sometimes our fantasies take us up on the 'wings of an eagle' and than suddenly ... 'splat' ... well what I just described ended in a rather large 'splat'!
Life is useless ... it's like chasing the wind.
In my sad state I ask myself ... what am I doing this for? ... I am not going to write any more ... not even the seemingly exciting new meditations of today concerning the notions of 'time and 'space'.
Now I just want to find a place to sleep ... crawl into bed and sleep this 'feeling' off. The lady at the bar is very kind ... she phones a couple of the places noted in the guide ... 1st place people are away on vacation ...2nd attempt ... room available for 45 euros and this place is a 7 kilometers walk! ... a polite "non merci"
The local grocery store closed while I was dilly dallying with the computer at the café/bar ... yikes!! Now I can't even buy anything to eat ... and there is no restaurant open in this village...
Yikes!! Spent a few hours at the café ... futzing with the scanner ... checking emails ... trying to get some of my notes online
I figure I might as well 'hit the road' and try my luck at the next village ... about 7 kilometers. My feet are really sore ... in part from walking 10 kilometers in my shower sandals ... and in part from the cumulative effect of walking 150 kilometers or so in the past 8 days ... and to make this worse ... it starts to drizzle ... yuk! ... Double YUK!!
I start to think maybe it is better if I spend the night in this village. I have this feeling ... more likely a desperate hope ... that the local church may have an 'overhang' where I can spend the night and not get drenched! ... Maybe freeze to death! ... But at least I will go dry!
I spot a 'caboose' of sorts across the street with several of the local men sitting in it chatting ... think to myself ... maybe I can sleep there.
My lethargic feeling passes quickly ... I start writing again ... I am OK ... why would I think what I am doing would be easy! ... as a matter of fact ... it often occurs to me that the more resistance I confront ... the stronger the likelihood there is merit in what I am doing ... not sure what logic this is based on ... likely my reading about the lives of some of the saints ... like St Francis.
I find the church ... and yes ... it has a small 'overhang' ... I find a public washroom around the corner ... open all night! It’s like this was all planned! oh the mystery of it all sometimes!
Probably around 8:00PM ... no sun and no clock! ... Sitting at the en-trance to the church ... a statue of St Francis over the doorway (another long story)
Been here for a few hours ... came here looking for shelter from the rain ... hoping the church would have an 'overhang' ... it does" ... about 12' by 8' ... enough hopefully to keep me dry all night!
I learned about 4:00 PM there would be no 5 star accommodation tonight ... the 'fruit' of my morning attitude ... 'frowning at people for being practical'.
I've been lamenting for the past couple of hours ... you see not only is there no bed tonight ... there is no food ... nada! ... stores were all closed when I stepped out of the café at 4:00 PM (more later) I looked up at the statue of St Francis and said to myself ... "St Francis ... I don't have the courage to go 'door to door' and beg for something to eat ... you are going to have to help me here"
An hour or so later an 'angel' arrived ... Jean Luc ... he brought me a bowl of hot soup ... a piece of bread ... a glass of wine ... 2 peaches and 2 doughnuts ... what a feast!! ... Soup was delicious. Jean Luc seems to uphold the axiom "those who have the least are often the most generous" Many other people walked by who appeared more affluent ... only Jean Luc came back ... he said he would also give me a few bucks but right now he doesn't have any ... what a generous soul!!
He had no cigarettes so I gave him a few. I am encouraged about the prospects for sleep now ... my stomach won't be nagging me for some-thing to eat! I am also encouraged concerning the condition of mankind ... there are likely lots of people like Jean Luc in this world ....
Jean Luc brings a friend to help him carry my supper
Brings his daughter with him at coffee time ... yup he brings me a coffee an hour or so later ... wow! ... What generosity!!
Perhaps I am a bit of a spectacle! ... not every day some 'foreigner' sleeps at the door of the church!
Wow ... I am almost all caught up with my writing ... only thing left to write about are today's meditations ... not tonight ... dark soon and I have no candles!
June 2, 2004 (I think)
Back again! It’s been about 40 hours since I put down my pen. After retiring my pen for the night, I attempted to retire myself ... put on my jacket, arranged my bed roll and sleeping bag ... tried something new tonight ... I doubled up my bed roll ... figured it would provide more comfort for the heaviest part of my body ... my belly! ... made a pillow with my towel and laid down and made a serious attempt to get to sleep.
A few minutes later my knees were getting cold ... they were lying almost directly on the cement. I had placed my sweatshirt underneath them. Got up and adjusted my bedroll so my knees would have some protection from the cold damp cement.
Back down ... a few minutes later felt the rain on my face ... it was a light drizzle and the wind would blow some rain into my 'shelter'. I looked at the foot of my bedroll and noticed the rain creeping in to the point where my feet would soon be wet ... I changed positions ... crawled back as far as possible ... now leaning directly against the door of the church ... the topography was not so good in this location ... a significant downward slope in the cement ... intentional I suppose to keep the water from running into the church.
While seems the design served this purpose ... it was not amenable to sleeping on! I pulled out the plastic Air Canada bag ... the one they wrapped my backpack in at the Toronto airport ... I'm thankful now that I saved it! Placed it over my sleeping bag ... hoping to save my sleeping bag from getting drenched during the night ... a few minutes later it slipped off my sleeping bag ... oh well! ... some say it is the thought that counts!
Tossed and turned and shifted positions often during the night ... hardly slept. Still drizzling in the morning ... head back to the café/bar for a coffee ... not sure what time it is ... café is open ... it's around 7:30 AM.
Coffee tastes great! ... I contemplate my alternatives for today ... thinking perhaps the fact that it is still raining suggests I should stay in this village another day ... have another go at the scanner again and maybe type my notes ... the computer in the café had the MicroSoft 'Word' icon on the desktop.
Of course, this meant spending another night under the overhang at the church. While all these little details seemed to suggest 'fate' arranged for me to stay here ... the rain ... the access to the internet and the availability of the 'Word' software ... a dry ... quasi dry but cool place to sleep. I’m too tired to walk ... no sleep the night before.
Eventually I decide to 'spurn' fate again and 'hit the road' ... knowing there is a religious place to stay about 17-18 kilometers down the road. I had overheard Martial saying "Oui ma Soeur" the day before when making arrangements for his accommodation. I also knew I should be making arrangements by phone (per instructions in the guide) before leaving ... nope ... I would call when I arrive ... off I go!
The walk is OK for the first few kilometers ... after 5-6 kilometers it quickly becomes difficult. At kilometers 6 or 7 I arrive at another village. Another coffee and I also eat the other 2 croissants ... 2 large croissants! ... I would pay for eating these 3 large croissants in such a short time period!
The guide indicated that one could walk along the canal from this village to the next ... around 10 kilometers. I checked the map and the canal seemed to go in a straight line where as the Camino zigged and zagged as usual. The short distance and the absence of pavement and traffic ap-pealed to me.
My stomach was sore from the croissants!
I checked with the owner of the bar ... wanting to confirm the location of the canal and the 'walk ability'. He informed me that it was not practical to walk along the canal this morning ... with the rain and all my feet would get all wet ... hmmm ... my impractical nature won the day again ... wet grass or not ... I'm walking along the canal!
I would learn to regret this decision as well! ... as I walked along the canal ... my feet got heavier and heavier with every step ... as my boots ... my socks ... and my pants continued to absorb water along the way ... yuk!
A very difficult few hours ... nonetheless I arrive in the village ... I walked the final kilometers or so in my shower sandals. Another first for me in this village ... my first stop when arriving in a village (on all my walks) is the first open bar or café ... anxious for a 'caffeine' fix. Today I would visit the church first ... I wasn't in the mood for prayer and I wasn't in that state where I felt an urge to call on God for help ... nope ... simply went in for a nice quiet and short visit.
Next stop the bar ... see I am still OK!!
An orange juice ... no coffee ... my stomach is still unsettled.
Ask about the Franciscan Sisters location ... learn it is only a few hundred meters away ... a right ... a left ... and then some instructions I didn't understand! I thought about calling first ... nope...
Found it ... rang the doorbell ... a friendly face greeted me ... seemed to understand my condition ... fatigue ... wet ... exhausted! She asked me about calling with notice of my intent ... I replied that I wasn't sure I would arrive here ... the weather (rain) and all. She told me I was fortu-nate ... the person staying the night before had just left (Martial). She goes to retrieve a key and steps outside ... leads me to another building 20 meters away ... opens the door and ushers me in. This place is a 2 bed-room apartment ... heated! ... it is still cool and damp outside ... wow!!
Almost immediately I drum up the courage to ask her if it is OK if I stay 2 nights(didn't want to make the same booboo I did with Mme Vergut et Château Nerveux) Of course, I qualified my request ... "providing no other pilgrim shows up tomorrow."
She looked at me ... hesitated only for a second or 2 and replied ... Oui ... what a relief!!
Found a grocery store ... bought some grub and found my way back to the apartment. Ate a large (very large) bowl of cereal ... Fruits & Fibres ... a piece of bread and jam ... cleaned up my mess and went to bed! ... it is about 5:00PM. Sleep until about 7:00AM the next morning ... whew! ... was I tired!
While I am sipping on my coffee at the café across the street ... too lazy to make my own ... and if I did ... wouldn't smoke in the apartment anyway!
Reflecting on the previous day or so ... find it intriguing that one night I am sleeping outside in the cold and damp ... under a statue of St Francis ... hungry ... I remember looking at the statue of St Francis and saying to myself ... No St Francis ... I don't have the courage to go door to door begging for something to eat. An hour or so later my soup arrives ... Today I am staying in a 2 bedroom heated apartment sponsored by the Franciscan Sisters ... hmmm.
Go and find access to the internet ... check my email ... respond to the people who have sent me mail. Go home to do my laundry and take a shower.
I use 4 locations to do my laundry ... the bathroom sink, the kitchen sink, the bedroom and a wash basin I found in the kitchen. I have to wash everything ... it is so dirty ... damp ... and smelly ... all except my paja-mas(don't know any pilgrim who carries flannelette pajamas ... glad I have mine though ... the nights are cool ... especially "under the stars!"
Forgot to mention the old fashioned washrooms ... the ones that have a place for each foot ... suppose with each foot properly placed ... assume the appropriate squatting position and you will 'hit' the hole. I was never trained properly for their use ... suppose if I wasn't so tired it would be easier ... after walking all day ... feet so sore ... can hardly stand any more ... and now I have to squat and hold my balance during the 'ceremony' ... yuk!
How to keep my pants dry at the same time? Also learned that if you flush the 'thing' while still standing on the 'foot stalls' ... your feet get a nice shower!
Also forgot to mention some behaviour I have seen in the last couple of bars I visited. As people enter ... they shake hands with all the patrons (even strangers like me!) and say 'bonjour'. The ladies often kiss and are kissed on the cheeks ... neat! ... I think to myself ... this behaviour seems to confirm that innate human need 'to belong' ... by shaking hands ... th e individual is saying ... "I belong" ... "you belong" and therefore ... "we belong" ... we are part of this 'community of peoples' and it is good to confirm this 'sense of belonging' often ... hmmm ... very interesting!! ... very impressive!!
It's late in the afternoon now ... around 4:00PM ... I'm sitting in the garden ... a few meters from the door to the apartment ... part of the property of the Franciscan sisters.
A grotto and a statue of Our Lady of Lourdes in the corner ... quite a peaceful place ... lots of flowers ... some birds singing ... sun shining and a warm and at times strong breeze.
Figure I will have a go at the meditations/reflections from the day before yesterday ... none yesterday ... I was too tired!!
The notion of 'time' and 'space'. Investigating the notion of 'time' is much too complicated for my little brain ... I am no Einstein. I saw a cartoon picture on a video machine at the bar where I stopped the other day(internet and scanner one) that looked like Einstein ... Connecting the dots ... I remember Claudia gave me a book several years ago that was intended to make Einstein's theories understandable ... something like "Einstein for Dummies". At the time Claudia told me she had no idea why she bought me this book ... only that it seemed important that she buy it for me ... hmmm. I tried reading it ... guess I don't make it as a 'dummy' either because I still couldn't understand any of his theories, in particular his theory of relativity. I grasped some of it but couldn't translate it into anything my mind could comprehend.
A year or so later in Nerja Spain the same topic came up for discussion with my friend Xavier who was the cook at the lodge at that time.
Xavier took great pains to explain Einstein's theory of relativity ... drew pictures and all. I remember thinking for sometime after this occasion ... wow ... Xavier a young man ... around 30 ... short order cook ... and he understands Einstein's theory of relativity. Xavier's intelligence and wisdom was often impressive ... seemed beyond his education and age.
Back to my meditations/reflections while walking. Seems to me 'time' is one of those notions that the human species is preoccupied with .. e.g. time is money ... history etc The notion of future, present and past is also intriguing. Using a 'month' as a unit of measure it is easy to relate next month, this month and last month with future, present and past. Now if we take a 'second' as a unit of measure ... better still ... I should get into the 21st century here ... a millisecond ... 1/1,000 of a second ... I think.
In this case the journey from future to present to past is so much quicker ... it's a blur ... how to distinguish the future ... 1/1,000 of a second from the period that represents the present ... 1/1,000 of a second is not so easy ... I can't visualize it.
As the measure for the unit of time gets smaller and smaller ... what happens ... surely at some point they converge ... and there is no longer any distinction between future, present and past. Is this the field of quantum physics ... the stuff Einstein was working on late in his life? Is this the potential 'convergence' ... what is referred to as eternity ... no beginning ... therefore no past ... and no end ... therefore no future ... a perpetual state of 'the present'
Brings to mind the notion of the 'soul' ... that eternal dimension of our being. If the 'soul' is eternal ... no beginning and no end ... seems logical that there is no 'soul factory' ... there is no place where new 'souls' are being produced and being sent to the planet earth. If this is so ... there are only two possibilities ... the same soul keeps coming back (Buddhist belief) or there is an infinite supply of souls somewhere waiting for their turn to come to earth ... just think ... if every living creature has a 'soul' and this unique soul only comes to earth once ... how many souls there must be somewhere.
Even if we limit the proposition to every human being ... how many of the two legged creatures have come and spent some time on earth?
Reminded of a conversation I had a couple of years ago with a young man I met at one of the refuges in Spain ... can't remember his name yet the surroundings ... the refuge ... the bench outside ... to a lesser extent his appearance are all very clear in my memory. This young man was quite intelligent and well read. The discussion included an exchange of opin-ions on reincarnation.
He seemed OK with the Buddhist notion of continuous reincarnation until the soul reaches the level referred to as Nirvana (I think). His concern, which may be what kept him from fully embracing Buddhist theology, was whether or not we retained some sense of individual consciousness ... in some form we are still individual, unique identifiably so. Wonder how this fits with Carl Jung's theory of 'collective unconscious' Like Einstein ... I couldn't comprehend the little I read about Carl Jung.
Reminds me of another discussion I participated in last summer ... somewhere between Santiago de Compestelle and Fisterra(Spanish word for end of the earth ... world). This place (Fisterra) was the western most point of land in Europe and until 1492 or so (AKA Columbus) was considered by all ... the end of the earth.
In this discussion ... 5 or 6 young people (20 to 25) and myself ... several topics were batted around. One of the young men struck me as being highly intelligent and well read ... I remember him saying he had a passion for Greek Mythology. This young man said "Jesus " ... the Jesus of Nazareth ... may have been the first human being with a conscious recollection of where he came from. Obviously I found this statement interesting ... why else would my memory store it where I can and often do recall the words in the statement. His girl friend(this young couple is from California or some other west coast state ... the land of fruits and nuts :-) ... made an interesting comment as well.
The young girl who shared an expression she had heard ... one cannot anchor a stick in the river and expect to change the flow of the river.
Somehow the discussion drifted into an exchange of views concerning the 'end' ... end as in end of the world ... end of this age ... end of mankind as we know it.
She stated that perhaps our purpose for being here now(referring to all the people or at least many) is to hurry this process of 'self destruction' or whatever along ... if we are going out ... let's hurry up and get on with the show kind of meaning.
At first and for some time afterward ... a long time afterward ... I found her statement uncomfortable ... unpleasant ... uncharitable etc. Why would we want to involve ourselves ... our energy ... our time etc in expediting the 'end'. Made no sense to me ... couldn't see myself embrac-ing this particular ideology or whatever the correct term is ...
Today ... I am not so sure ... not so sure there is not some comfort ... some pleasantness ... some charity ... in her attitude. How so?
Well ... let's suppose the 'end' is inevitable ... something like the 'ice age' ... the theory of Entropy ... or one of the many other theories that abound.
Why endure the misery of 'waiting' ... tolerate all the insensitivity ... the aggression ... the violence going on around the world ... What the heck! ... Let’s get on with it and have it done and over with.
Now ... let's suppose we have a choice ... not to postpone or eliminate the 'end' ... but ... to prepare ourselves ... mankind ... for what is on the other side of the 'end' ... hmmm. Isn't this the story of Christianity? ... and many other religions including North American Indian
Seems I have drifted away from my thoughts on the notion of 'time'.
So much for the notion of 'space' ... moving ... one foot in front of the other ... yet am I really moving ... the earth is rotating on its' axis and moving all in its' orbit ... assume the rotation is east to west ... when heading west I am actually going backwards?... hmmm
June 5, 2004
Been a couple of days since I have written ... seems my appetite for writing has diminished ... perhaps the disappointment in village where I learned it is very impractical to think I could keep my writing posted to the internet on a regular basis ... coupled with the absence of 'cheer leaders' ... had access to internet for a few days ... no encouragement ... nominal.
So I walked on ... and on ... and on...
In a melancholy mood leaving ' ' ... unusual given I just had 2 days of rest ... great accommodation and all.
Only walked about 17 kilometers today ... stopped at kilometers xx ... a small village ... walking into the village I had the feeling I should stop and eat my breakfast ... the jam sandwich I made in the morning ... also had the feeling I should rest at the church ... beautiful old church ... small and simple ... open gate ... pass the small side door thinking maybe it leads to the basement ... went around to the main entrance ... closed ... on my way back I decide to try the small door ... surprise ... surprise! ... it was open ... peaceful inside ... not ornate ... 3 statues ... Mary, Ste Therese and an old statue of St Roche ... thinking every church in France must have a statue of Ste Therese. Eat my sandwich ... rest a bit ... where I am sitting the monument directly across ... see it often, especially in the small villages ... notice that 12 names marked for World War I ... seems profound ... such a small hamlet ... lose 12 men during the war ... seems must have been 50 percent or more of the men in the village at the time. How did the village recover from such a loss? ... No wonder the French had no appetite for another war 20 years later.
The gentleman who operates the l'abrit de nuit has arrived ... ah! ... a place to sleep ... 2 sets of bunk beds and a table ... shower and a stand up toilet ... what more could a pilgrim want! Settle in ... go out and buy some grub ... cheese bread tomato can of tuna and a box of soup.
When I ask the gentleman if he can warm up my soup he offers me some homemade soup ... quite delicious ... shower and go to bed. Sleep most of the late afternoon ... early evening
Decided to walk to the RP marked on the map ... did not wish to call ... simply show up ... if there is a bed ... great ... if not ... who knows!
When I arrived I was greeted by Annie ' ' ... a very kind lady ... met her husband Paul and son Francois ... nice people ... very peaceful location in the country ... so quiet ... a bit of a shock to my system ... accustomed to 'quiet' when walking ... almost always stop in a village for the night ... th e noise of the village is in some way comforting ... reinforces the 'connec-tion' ... I am not alone.
Make myself my sardine and onion meal ... happy now that I bought them the night before.
June 6, 2004
Up at 6:30 AM ... no choice ... have to be out at 7:00 AM ... rules of the house ... wait around for 40 minutes for the café to open. Today is the anniversary of the invasion of Normandy ... Wilhelm mentioned it to me yesterday ... saw a picture of Bush on the front page of newspaper. Also the Feast Day of the Holy Trinity ... don't know what time mass is ... will go back to the church after coffee. Thinking of Uncle Bruce again ... wonder where he was in June 1944? ... and Uncle Charlie ... and dad!
Ann Paul and Francois ... very nice people ... Francois bought a donkey 6 months ago ... he says it's a fad now in this region?? Paul says to me when leaving 'ultreya' ... 'suseia' ?
Andre and Martial had been here 2 nights before. Annie said she knew me when I arrived ... hmmm
Joined the family for breakfast ... very nice. In conversation Annie mentions the Gauls and the Celts ... apparently inhabited this region. She says something about the 'people' who discovered how to make fire ... this statement would come back to my mind as I walked today. The expression 'flick my Bick' came along as well. I can't imagine what life would have been like without fire ... discussed the topic briefly with Wilhelm ... he said the people would likely carry a flame or coals from tribe to tribe in an attempt to preserve the 'fire' ... the people of the day would have known the benefit of fire ... 'warmth'
Wonder what their diet was ... can't see them killing an animal and than go looking for a forest fire to cook the meat! How exciting it must have been when the ingenious individual discovered how to start a 'fire'. Wonder if this almost miraculous discovery happened simultaneously around the world ... i.e. on the different continents at the same time. How day to day life for the human species changed after this discovery!
Tiptoe across the grass ... to keep my boots dry ... they get drenched later that day ... stubbornly stick to route! vs. day before ... see next page or so
Decided to look on internet for some info about the discovery of fire ... I found the following article interesting ... especially the legend about discovering how to start a fire ... accident and snake involved ... hmmm!
Greatest Discovery
Take away fire and man (stands for both the genders) will revert to wilderness like any other animal! The greatest discovery made by man alone on this good earth is the art of making and maintaining fire. He, like any other animal, had seen fire striking from clouds, devouring bushes and trees, and devastating large tracts of green land. He had also seen fire being spewed by a volcano and the molten lava snaking and snarling its way down the slopes. He also knew it gave heat and scared ferocious animals. Though still not proven, but most probably he had learned how to keep it burning. It provided him and his associates with light, warmth, and a device to keep ferocious animals away. He must have also learned to control fire which, in the long run, helped him to smelt metal ores.
But man did not know how to kindle it. The day he discovered this art, he separated for good from the animal kingdom that roamed the earth. He had discovered the source of light, heat, and energy -- the very basis of civilization. Fire helped man to reduce nomadic lifestyles and develop social and political institutions connected with a fixed abode.
Legends of how man learned to make fire are as numerous as there are ancient nations. A god brought or stole it down the sky is but an illusion to lightening striking and starting a fire. It was thrown up by the earth reminds us of a volcanic eruption. It was brought down a tree by a wise man indicates that it was obtained from a burning tree. It is a product of two rubbing branches or a child of ten mothers’ points to the much later discovery of creating friction by placing a stick in a wooden groove and rubbing, rather rotating the stick with two palms, the ten fingers, the ten mothers.
The most striking is the Iranian legend, preserved, among other writings, in Ferdowsi's Shahnameh. Here is a gist of the Shahnameh's story:
Hushang
Hushang succeeded his grandfather Kayumars, the first of the Pishdadian Kings. He girdled himself with wisdom and justice.
The Discovery of Fire
Our ancestors worshipped God, had their beliefs, and followed certain ceremonies. In those days, the blazing fire was the altar just as the Arabs have stone as their prayer niche. But the discovery of fire was quite incidental. This happened before iron was discovered.
One cold day, Hushing and his party were returning from a hunting expedition. They saw a snake coiled in their path. Hushang aimed his flint axe at it. He missed and the snake slithered away. But the axe hit another stone, also a flint and produced a bright spark The curious king took hold of the two flints and struck more sparks. And he learned to produce enough sparks to ignite a fire. He discovered how to make fire! "This spark," he proclaimed, "is God's gift. Hold it high in regard." He thanked God for the gift and made fire his altar. He held a great feast. Every person sang, danced, drank, and feasted around the bonfire. For the first time, Hushang and his people could light their dark caves and feel cozy and warm in their beds. They passed a wonderful winter. Hushang never forgot his revolutionary discovery. He held a great feast every year on that eventful day. It is called "Sadeh."
He was the first to separate iron from ore and established the profession of smithery. He fashioned axes, saws, and adzes. Next, he diverted water from rivers into plains for cultivation. Prior to this human beings sub-sisted on fruits and covered themselves with leaves. Furthermore, Hushang separated the beasts which were hunted from those that could easily be domesticated. He introduced soft and comfortable furs as clothing.
Hushang's reign introduced peace, prosperity, plenty, and happiness. He died after ruling for forty years."
To put it in short: Fire was accidentally discovered when a flint-axe, thrown by King Hushang to kill a snake, missed and struck a rock and threw a spark. That sparked the idea to kindle fire by striking two pieces of flint together. This theory is confirmed by archeologists to be the most probable means of its discovery in the early stone stage.
Hushang, the Iranian legend says, celebrated the discovery by throwing a feast, a feast that has been kept alive through ages. It is held every year on 10 Bahman (30 January), almost mid-winter. It is called "Sadeh," meaning "century" because according to one popular tradition, it falls on the hundredth day from 21 October, the beginning of winter among ancient Iranians. Or, as I see it, it is the contracted form of the Avestan "saredha," Persian "sard," meaning "cold, winter."
On that afternoon, people gather outside their town, make a hill of dry shrubs, bushes, weeds, and branches. Priests lead the prayers, exalting fire as the divine light, warmth, and energy, ask God for an ever-progressing life to eternal happiness, and as the sun sets in the blazing west, set the hill ablaze. It is a sight to watch huge leaping flames. Those at home light little bonfires on top of their flat mud-plastered "fire-safe" roofs -- a tribute to the civilized blessings given by the discovery of kindling fire.
Venerating Fire
At a time when man was hunted and haunted, he discovered fire and that changed his whole pattern of life. No wonder the blazing fire soon became the object of veneration, especially when his imagination formed for him many forms of deities. Fire became a deity too, a deity too close and touching. The sky god was sky high, the earth goddess was earth wide, the wind god was blowing across, the sun god/goddess was travel-ing light, the moon god was waxing to wane, and the water goddess was streaming by.
Fire was the only deity that sat very cozy and close. It held a special position. It was kindled with care and was kept alive with more care. It gave light. It gave heat. It gave power. It turned night into day and winter into spring. It baked clay into pots, and smelted metal into instruments. It frightened away dangerous animals, and above all, it made the daily food tender and tasty. It had revolutionized human living. It required constant attention, and attention means attraction and affection. It became "spe-cial." It had a special seat, the hearth. It became the center of his activities -- cooking, eating, conversing, sleeping, and of course, receiving his homage. Moreover, it went up the sky in a smoke column. The fire god had contact with the gods and goddesses above and men and women below. He was the intermediary, and the hearth became the altar, the earliest altar. All the gifts presented to deity and deities -- animal fat and flesh, grains, food, sweet smelling herbs and wood -- were put to burn and rise in smoke to reach the deity/deities. It was a smoky, smelly offer!
Ever-burning
Kindling fire by striking flints or rubbing sticks was no easy job. It was much easier to keep it burning. Man learned that fire can snugly sleep beneath ashes and arise glowing when blown in flames. The habit of keeping fire "alive" through sleeping and leaping became a habit. Habit forms tradition. The hearth fire and later the temple fire became an ever-burning fire. Tradition becomes sacred. Sacredness demands ritual. Ritual becomes elaborate. Once sanctified and ritualized, even when well out-dated and fossilized, a tradition cannot be easily abandoned by conserva-tives.
Match sticks and gas and electric lighters have put out the hearth fire, and yet I know in Iran there are still old ladies, Zoroastrians and Muslims, whose hearth fire is never extinguished. My mother and mother-in-law, one from Kerman and the other from Shiraz, 300 miles apart, had the hearth fire going as long as they lived. If this could be with homes, what should one expect from places of worship?
Fire has served as the altar, the illuminating light, for many religions. Fire, in form of candid candle, lighted lamp, burning incense, and blazing wood, still adorns prayer niches, rooms and halls all over the world.
Fire Altars and Temples
Hearth fire is venerated in the Atash Nyayesh in the Later Avesta. This is the earliest form of it and it formed the altar for all domestic rituals. The Haptanghaiti in the Gathic dialect mentions "fire-enclosure" as a commu-nal altar. Median and Ach aemenian bas-reliefs show persons standing, with uplifted arms" in the Gathic fashion, in front of fire altars. Plinths at Pasargadae confirm the "fire-enclosure," the Gathic communal fire altars. Open fire altars survive at Naqsh-e Rostam from Sassanian days too. Avestan texts speaks of no fire-temple or fire-house. It did not exist in those days.
Temple is an Elamite and Babylon gift to Median and Persian Zoroastri-ans. Parthians and Sassanians followed with increasing elaborations. Ruins of Zoroastrian fire-temples of pre-Islamic era are spread from Iraq to the Pamirs and beyond. I have visited, lit a candle and prayed at many, including the one on the Kharg Island in the Persian Gulf and those in Persepolis, Naqsh-e Rostam, Pasargadae, Isfahan, Khuzistan, Azerbaijan in Iran, and Taxila in Pakistan. Various grades of fire-temple are also the evolution of elaborating the system. Atash Bahram, the Victory Fire, at present the highest consecrated temple is a Sassanian innovation. When Ardeshir Babakan, the founder of the dynasty, rose against the Parthian rule and won a victory against Vologeses V in 224 CE, he had to fight many a battle to conquer the vast empire. Wherever and whenever, scored a victory over his enemies, he would erect one "Victory Fire" temple in memory.
History books written by Muslim travelers speak of fire-temples "miracu-lously" lit without being fed by any firewood. They were in the oil-rich regions, from present day Khuzistan in Iran to Azerbaijan in the former Soviet Union. They were fed by natural gas harnessed by the experts in those days. The one in Baku has been reconstructed by the authorities there and has the gas fire on. The gas-fed Azar Goshnasb temple in Azerbaijan, Iran, was where the Sassanian emperors were crowned. Recent excavations have revealed the baked clay pipeline to the fire-altar. This makes the present gas-fed fire altars in North America as no innova-tion but following the past in modern times. It is less air polluting and does not devour firewood and therefore plays no part in deforestation.
Once installed in a temple, it became a tradition. That tradition continues. I would add that it should continue with modern modifications. Already a number of "prayer rooms" and "Dar-e Mehrs" in North America and Europe -- and it includes the Zarathushtrian Assembly prayer hall -- are lit by natural gas.
The Sassanians had two other major fire-temples. Azar Farnbagh, for the Priestly class, was in Nishabur, Khorassan, northeast Iran, and Azar Borzin, for the Agricultural and Industrious class, was in Darab, Pars, south Iran.
Incidentally, the domed Muslim mosque is the continuation of the Sassanian architecture of fire-temple. The dome stood above the fire-altar. All that the Arabs or Iranian converts to Islam had to do is to remove the altar and prepare the hall for their prayers. Some of the old former fire-temples, turned into congregational mosques still have the fire-altars placed in their jars and filled with water. The domed building is not an Arabian architecture at all.
Fire in the Gathas
Fire has been used eight times in the Gathas. It is mental (Songs 4.3 and 12.6), the radiant light (4.19 and 16.9), the warmth (8.4), and full-of-energy (7:4), which helps good and evil people to find happiness. It helps to meditate in quest of righteousness (8.9) and to enlighten one's mind to find means to ward off danger (11.7).
The Gathic Fire symbolizes the Divine Progressive Mind in human beings. It is the altar that enlightens a meditating mind of a Zarathushtrian. Facing it, a Zarathushtrian wishes to forge an ideal society. Here are two brief prayers, one in the Haptanghaiti and the other from Atash Nyâyesh (Fire Prayer) in the Avesta. They explain fire's symbolism and depict the society a Zarathushtrian wants the world to enjoy:
"In this fire-enclosure, first of all, we approach You and You alone, Wise God, through the most progressive mentality, symbolized by Fire -- right, warm and energetic. Reverence to it, because You have appointed for reverence.
Fire, you belong to God Wise. You symbolize the most progressive mentality. This is the best of your designations. O Fire of Ahura Mazda, it is because of this that we approach you. (Haptanghaiti, Song 3.1-3)
Grant me, O Fire of Ahura Mazda, prompt welfare, prompt maintenance, prompt living; full welfare, full maintenance, full living; zeal, progress, eloquence, discerning intellect; next, comprehensive, great and lasting knowledge; next, all encompassing courage, steadiness; vigilance, wakeful even at rest; and self-supporting children, able to govern the country, outstanding in assembly, harmonious in growth, and gentle in character, who shall advance our homes, settlements, districts, countries and the world fellowship. (Atash Nyâyesh)
May the Fire of Mazda enlighten our minds!
Walked to Châteaumeilland today ... ran out of cigarettes along the way. Entering the village ... large church ... door open ... bar across the street. Looked at the door to the church ... looked at the bar sign ... the bar won ... felt like a beer. Directed across the street ... building beside the church to enquire about lodging. The gentleman who answered the door (turns out he is the local priest) redirects me to the campground.
He says ten euros a night and you have all you need. On leaving he mentions there is a mass at 6:45 PM about an hour from now ... why did he have to tell me this? Rushed to the campground ... one and a half kilometers ... learned I would be sleeping in a 'caravan' ... small house trailer ... fine accommodation ... drop off my backpack and hurry back into town on time for mass.
Saw the name Gauthier today for the first time in France ... business making skids etc
I have been walking in my shower sandals for the past 12-15 kilometers ... my feet ache ... my whole body aches. Made it on time for mass ... huge church ... the friendly lady from the village before ... met her in the afternoon ... she offered me something to drink and eat ... I declined ... she showed me the way back onto the Camino. Inside the church not hardly any decorations ... 4 statues ... Ste Therese, St Jean D'Arc and Ste Solange ... ST Gervais. Across the other side a statue of Mary with the infant Jesus ... Our lady of the Rosary ... 1st time I see one like this . Wilhelm stays at the same campground ... on bicycle from Holland ... I see him but at the time don't know he is cycling the Camino ... we meet on the Camino the day ... he gets off his bike and walks along with me for a while ... another 1st ...
Christoph ... I live in the system ... not with it ... reminds me of Xavier's comments ... Mother Teresa is his idol ... we talk about Joan of Arc.
Had a delightful conversation with Christoph at the restaurant/bar in the morning. I was kind of discouraged when I entered the bar ... recharged and energetic on leaving. Discussed life ... philosophy etc with Christoph. He tells me he is not religious ... he is obviously a kind and loving person ... tells me he has 2 children ... one of them is handicapped which helps him look at life from a different perspective ... tells me he has an adven-turous spirit and some day hopes to go to Canada ... Quebec ... nearby is Place de resistance ... hmmm.
Long haul today ... only about 22 kilometers ... but seemed difficult. Once again depended on the guide ... indicated a café/bar at ' ' ... about 5 kilometers away. Arrived ... walking with Wilhelm ... no café/bar ... no cigarettes again ... knew leaving the last village that I only had a few cigarettes ... decided not to walk into town to get some ... now I would have to pay again! ... no breakfast either ... left town without buying anything. Had a banana and yogurt before coffee ... YUK ... I don't even like yogurt!
4 yogurt ... left 2 behind ... spilled the milk in my bag
Heard a horn blaring ... the long blare ... the kind the 'mobile patisseries' make ... wow!! ... my breakfast has arrived! ... Walk fast in the direction of the sound ... want to get there before the individual leaves ... buy a croissant and home made cake. I learn it is a very expensive homemade cake ... five euros! ... some kind of fruit cake ... what a blessing! ... don't know how I would have walked the next 15 kilometers without the croissant and the cake.
Wilhelm ... strange thought last night ... what if Hitler had won the war? response from Christoph in AM when I mention Joan of Arc may have changed course of history.
Chatre is unfriendly ... at least many of the people I approach on arrival are quite unfriendly. Find the Auberge de Jeunesse ... same reception ... complet ... no place to sleep ... I enquire about sleeping on the floor ... no way! ... impossible! I leave ... thinking to myself ... I somehow ex-pected this ... no need to be surprised or disappointed.
What now! ... back to the friendly lady at the school to ask about the location of the local priest ... she had asked me when we met the first time if I was looking for the priest ... at the time I replied ... non... turns out I was after all
Found the rectory ... the gentleman called the priest and I was directed to the l'abrit de nuit ... had no idea what this was ... oh well!
Learned not every church has a statue of Ste Therese
Better than l'auberge de jeunesse! ... had the place all to myself ... the gentleman who manages the place lives upstairs and he left me to myself all night! ... and it was free to boot!
Off to Neuvy-Saint-Sepulchre
I'm in Sarzay ... saw it on the map ... said no way I am going there ... it's one and a half kilometers off the route ... coffee is not that important ... and here I am. After a couple of kilometers I was confused as to which direction to go ... was at a T intersection ... gentleman with a bike talked me into walking via Sarzay ... wrestled with the decision for a bit ... why not? ... arrived in Sarzay ... bar is open ... can you believe it ... didn't even go to the bar ... no coffee ... sat in the shade in front of the church and had my breakfast ... oh ... how I enjoyed the cheese and bread and grape drink ... left over from supper last night ... tastes so good!
Said to myself on the way in ... last kilometers or so ... I have a good feeling about this place ... not like Le Chatre ... and wow!
13th century fortress/home here
Lots and lots of cars around ... on the way in I thought the people were at mass! ... nope ... too many cars for the tiny church ... which was locked up anyway. Learned that the cars were owned by people who have a new Sunday morning ritual ... how new who knows ... the people drive to a village and than go for a 20-25 kilometers walk ... each Sunday ... a new village ... hmmm
Sounds interesting ... 150 or so cars parked in this tiny village ... 2-4 people per car ... hmmm ... 400 or so people ... mostly older folks ... very nice view ... valley and hills.
Sit on a bench in Archers ... a tiny hamlet with several pottery galleries ... seems pottery crafts people live here ... how long? As I am walking through the hamlet I remember the biblical parable ... the 'potter' and the clay ... a parable that challenges the mainstream belief that we are in control of our own destiny ... reflect on this for a while.
I subscribe to the belief that we are not in control of our destiny after conception ... perhaps before ... not after.
Seems I was given a small 'proof' of my reflections ... got lost ... intended to stay on the 'route' ... come to a 'yield' sign ... think to myself ... this is not good ... there should not be a yield sign here ... this is definitely not good!
Yup! ... I'm lost ... check the map ... learn where I am ... I learn it is a couple of kilometers back to the 'route' ... no way! ... I'm too tired ... the road I am on now goes in almost a straight line directly into ' ' a major route though ... big trucks ... lots of traffic ... too bad ... I'm not walking 2-3 kilometers extra just to say I stayed on the route ... since when have I ever persistently followed any prescribed route ... literally or otherwise!
Also on the bench I think to myself ... maybe I haven't been pushing myself hard enough ... not tired enough ... be careful what you ask for! ... I had to walk 12 kilometers non stop! ... when I arrived ... 3 kilometers or so extra ... to get to mass ... OK ... I thought to myself ... I hear you ... now I am tired enough!
Back to reflections on fire ... some relative was probably throwing a stone at some wild animal ... during the night ... the stone ricochet off another stone ... the collision created a spark ... which could be seen in the dark and voila! ... from this point to 'fire' was likely not too long a way. How 'fire' transformed the lives of the human species ... what a milestone evolution/transformation ... profound ... unimaginable
What would man do with this new capability ... one thing is sure ... man did not stop with the 'good' fire could do for mankind ... he kept going and discovered the 'bad' fire could do ... weapons etc
The knowledge of the tree of good and evil ... all knowledge is good ... seems we simply cannot find the line between good and evil ... we always seem to cross over ... e.g. Einstein ... theory of relativity ... the good technology from this ... and also the bad ... the nuclear bomb!
Found the prescribed route again ... followed it to ' ' St Sepulchre ... great coffee on arrival ... rested about 40 minutes ... found the 'gite'
Au Palais de la Vieille Route ... Wow!! ... 5 star accommodation for a pilgrim at a zero star price ... 10 euros to sleep ... 2.5 euros for breakfast ... the kind lady brought me everything I need for breakfast ... coffee ... just have to figure out how to make it ... box of milk ... 2 varieties of jam ... some bread ...piece of cake ... an apple ... some butter and 2 energy bars(for the road tomorrow) What a treat!
I asked the lady about the place ... curious because of the name ... she told me the old 'route' passed beside this building ... that the building was likely a stable for horses ... converted now to a 'gite' ... 10 beds up in the loft ... pristine!
Washroom facilities and a shower ... lower floor a large room ... large table ... large kitchen ... fully equipped. At the moment I have the entire place to myself ... what a bonus! I think several people are supposed to show up to sleep ... parents of some kids here for sports.
I'm outside now ... sitting in the garden area ... nice outdoor table and chairs ... what a treat!
Today has been full of surprises ... the gentleman this morning who directed me off the prescribed route so I would pass through Sarzay ... maybe now I know why I passed through Sarzay ... the fortress I men-tioned earlier was built at the beginning of the 100 year war ... Joan of Arc time ... the time it took the French to finally defeat the British on all French soil.
"Bati pour faire face aux empietements des Anglais pendant la guerre de Cent Ans (fin XIViem, debut XVieme siecle) Jehan de Barbancois, petit fils de Guillaume de barbancois liberateur de la Chatre(1360) ... in the family until 1720. Yesterday in la Chatre I kept seeing the name George Sand ... this morning while waiting for the café to open the window of a book store was 20 meters or so from where I was sitting and the entire window was filled with books about George Sand and I remember the title of one book ... George Sand & Jesus
Small plaque on building ... Ecole Jean D'Arc ... George Sand museum in La Chatre
2004 is the 200th anniversary of her birth ... July 1st ... yah ... her birth ... all day yesterday I pondered the name George Sand ... didn't sound very French ... thought to myself ... maybe I should try and find out who this George Sand was ... booklet at this gite has a brief summary of her life ... born Amantine Aurore Lucile Dupin de Francueil.
Daughter of a farmer ... her dad died in an accident and she was raised by her grandmother at Nohant. Her grandmother died when she was 17 and she inherited her grandmother's estate ... more than 200 hectares of land ... some estate eh! ... and what was I reflecting on yesterday ... we create our own destiny ... seems to me some unpredictable and external circum-stances were at work here ... Divine Providence?
George Sand was her pen name ... Theophile Gauthier ... La Mare au Diable ... Chopin was her guest for a while at the time ... daughter named Solange
Apparently she named the region ... "Vallee Noire" ... the name still holds today "Toutes les hauteurs sont boisees, c'est ce qui donne a nos lointains cette belle coleur bleu, qui devient violette et quasi noire dans les jours orageux"
"Leilia" "Mauprat" dans lesquelles eclatent sescris de revoltes contre les entraves de la societe"
"La chambre bleu, dans laquelle elle s'eteignit le 8 Juin 1876 en murmurant ces derniers mots qui restent encore un mystere ... "Laissez verdure ... "
I must do some more research on this lady ... seems her 'spirit' appeals to me.
Went for a visit to the basilica ... WOW! ... what a church. On several occasions on the walk here I tried to figure out who this St Sepulcher could be ... the word Sepulcher rang a bell ... think we have the same word in English ... must look up the definition ... think it has something to do with a 'tomb' or burial place.
Anyway the plaque describing the basilica answered my questions ... someone who had just returned from a pilgrimage to Jerusalem built the original structure and modeled it after the Holy Sepulcher in Jerusalem ... connecting the dots! ... Yikes!!
No mass today ... a bit disappointed ... nice quiet visit at the church. Sitting at one of the altars I'm thinking to myself ... there is a statue of Our Lady of Lourdes ... no statue of Ste Therese ... hmmm ... than I notice the altar candles that are burning at this altar ... yup ... they still use real candles in France ... pity they have been replaced with electric candles in Canada.
Anyway, at the bottom of these candles is an image of Ste Therese ... hmmm I say to myself ... no statue ... but candles with her image ... hmmm I get up and turn around to leave ... a different route than the one I took here , and there it is ... a large statue of Ste Therese ... yikes!
Also a statue of St James the Major ... 1st one I've seen ... I think
At the other altar I visited there is a prayer written by St Ignacio’s of Loyola ... more connecting of the dots ... Yikes! ... this gives me goose bumps. I want time to stand still for a while ... seems I would like to absorb all that has happened today and this town is very appealing ... it's Sunday so it is quiet.
Almost completed this book ... must buy a new one tomorrow ... earlier today I thought maybe my appetite for writing was quenched ... maybe I have exhausted myself by writing so much in the past 10 days or so. Now I am not so sure ... maybe the spirit of George Sand is re-energizing the tongue of my pen as St Augustine would say ... write.
Ate a piece of my cake ... the expensive one I bought yesterday! Today I have a knife to cut it with ... a plate to put it on ... and a fork to eat it with ... civilization is not so bad!
Last page ... sun is setting ... so calm ... so peaceful ... seems even more 'connecting dots' and quite intriguing I head out for another coffee ... not that I need yet another coffee today! ... this one is to celebrate ... I feel like celebrating the events of the last couple of hours ... even left my laundry soaking in the sink.
As I am walking up town ... 200-300 meters away ... I am thinking I should go to the same bar I went to this afternoon ... sense of loyalty ... obligation ... the lady was very kind. As I approached the bar I see another one across the street called Bar George Sand.
I feel drawn to this bar ... what to do about the guilt associated with not returning to the kind lady? So much for customer loyalty ... I head to the other bar ... just before reaching my destination I glance over to the bar my conscience tells me I should be visiting ... it's closed! ... aha! ... no more guilt.
I'm in for a treat at this bar ... 1st don't see any coffee machine ... oh oh! ... I will get this mornings' coffee ... Yuk! Coffee was actually quite tasty ... served in a very unusual container. I enquired ... a Mazagran ... my grandmother bought them a long time ago ... because we have no coffee machine ... hmmm
Where I am sitting I am looking straight at a statue in the plaza ... go for a closer look ... Cleopatra holding up a lamp ... hmmm ... more dots ... Babylon ... Alexandria ... WWW
Caesar ... Alexander the Great ... Roman Empire ... too much!! ... statue dedicated to parents ... what an afternoon!!
June 8, 2004 In Pommiers - Chez "Tito"
First page of my new scribbler ... bought it in Neuvy day before yester-day. Seems I can't get enough of Neuvy Saint Sepulchre ... left here in the morning ... with an agenda ... I had a plan!
I would have an easy day ... walk to Cluis ... only 9 kilometers ... stay at the Pilgrim's refuge (Vezelay) and enjoy a quiet restful afternoon ... see I am in control of my destiny and this is what I chose ... my choices! ... my plan!
So much for planning ... I arrive in Cluis ... sit in the shade at the Chapel ... Our Lady of the Holy Trinity ... just missed the annual procession ... was yesterday ... church is locked. After a short rest I finish the days' walk by heading into town ... remember that I have to get some money ... I'm down to a bit of change ... see a sign I recognize ... a bank sign ... this is good. omen at the same time my 'inner voice' is saying ... just because there is a bank ... doesn't mean there is an outdoor cash machine.
Turns out my 'inner voice' was right again ... confirmed the bad news at the local bar. Oh oh! ... oh well ... counted my coins ... enough for a draft beer and a coffee in the morning ... and in my pocket I have a full package of cigarettes. Thinking the refuge won't cost anything for sleeping ... box of soup in my backpack ... small piece of bread and the rest of my 'homemade cake' ... who could ask for more! I'll be fine.
Within the next few minutes ... after finishing my beer ... I learn the refuge is not finished yet ... i.e. ... not open ... and worse yet ... no bank machine … not even in the next village Gargiesse ... about 14 kilometers ... Yikes!!
Hung around the 'gite' in the morning ... waiting for laundry to dry ... enjoy the garden ... the calm. .... Gaultier ... Gaul... ?
So much for feeling fine ... what now? The lady at the bar suggests I go down the street and enquire at the home of the lady in charge of the Pilgrim's Refuge ... seems like a good idea. She walks me to the street and points in the direction of the home ... I think she says the large house with the 'blue' window shutters. I arrive chez Mme Ampeau and ring the doorbell ... I notice on the tag just below the bell the names Ampeau - Gauthier.
Needless to say I find this intriguing and exciting ... a day or so ago I see the name Gauthier for the first time ... in France ... the sawmill at La Chatre and here I am ringing the doorbell of a "Gauthier". I learn that Mme Ampeau's maiden name is Gauthier ... her family has lived in town for more than 100 years. She asks me if I spell Gauthier with an 'H' ... Gauthier vs Gautier. I remember seeing the name 'Gautier' in the booklet I was reading at the gite ... the synopsis of the life of George Sand ... hmmm!
Mme Ampeau is very kind and generous ... she apologized about the refuge not being ready and than launches into an alternative ... there is a Chambres d'Hotes in the village and pilgrims can stay there for 10 euros including breakfast. I sheepishly explain to Mme Ampeau that I have one more little problem ... I have no money! ... her face manifests a look of ... Oh! Oh!
What now? ... she spends a few seconds mentally searching for a solution to my money problem ... suggests perhaps one of the local business people would advance me a few euros on my credit card ... and than laments that ... today is Monday en plus! ... most local businesses are closed ... including the local bank(both of them).
She suggests the people who run the Chambres d'Hotes may have a credit card machine. She gives me directions to the Chambres d'Hotes ... a right turn than a left turn ... ? ... not very far ... a big house with red window shutters ... seems the color of the window shutters are used to identify homes!
I find the Chambre d'Hotes ... nobody home ... yikes! ... what now? ... no refuge ... no money ... no bank machine here or in the next village!!
So much for my quiet relaxing day!
I meander into the church ... suppose in some way looking for an explanation for the yuky circumstances I find myself in ... a few meters inside the door of the church ... a large white statue of Ste Therese on the left side and a large white statue of Joan of Arc directly across on the right hand side of the church. I can 'feel' my inner self smiling as I gaze at these two statues ... thinking in my mind ... what do you two young ladies have planned for me today? ... what are you up to!!?
My feelings are calm and peaceful ... no panic yet!
I ponder my alternatives ... I am reluctant to go back to Mme Ampeau even though before leaving her house she told me to come back if I had any problems. A few minutes later ... seemed the only option I had was to return to Mme Ampeau ... left my backpack in the church and headed back ... less than 100 meters away.
Another very friendly greeting ... I explained that I found the Chambres d'Hotes but it was closed. Mme Ampeau seemed puzzled ... decided to escort me personally to the Chambre d'Hotes ... suppose she figure I somehow missed finding the correct entrance. She walks with me to the Chambre d'Hotes ... indicates the proper entrance and confirms with me ... yup! ... it's closed.
She enquires of a construction worker who is working on the street beside the Chambre d'Hotes ... seems he hasn't seen anyone today ... she men-tions that it was open yesterday ... hmmm ... the universe conspiring against me?
We walk back to Mme Ampeau's ... seems she has worked out a solution in her mind ... she tells me I can sleep at her house ... she has choir practice in Neuvy in the evening and I can come along with her to Neuvy and solve my 'no money problem' ... there is a bank machine in Neuvy ... I had seen it in the morning and when I saw it I remembered that I had very little money in my pocket ... yet ... I walked right past the machine confident there would be another bank machine in the next village (Cluis) ... seems I still have not learned the lesson of 'being practical'.
Yet ... had I been practical ... I would have missed all that has happened as a result of my encounter with Mme Ampeau ... and for me ... a lot has happened!!
Mme Ampeau also mentioned that she planned to attend a community event at the church ... Our lady of the Holy Trinity ... the place I stopped at on the way into town. I learned they have a long standing tradition in this village ... a procession on the Feast of the Holy Trinity June 6th (D-Day Normandy) and a community gathering the next day ... where they play this ancient game ... drink a lot of wine and eat some special local pastry.
She invited me along ... arrived at her car ... parked on the street behind the house ... the button to open the doors wouldn't work ... turns out her battery is dead ... Yikes! ... what next?
At that moment her husband comes driving up the street ... Pierre ... she introduces me ... gives Pierre a brief summary of my circumstances ... tells him about her car and voila ... contingency plan ... we will go with Pierre to the community celebration and he will drive us to Neuvy.
I end up joining Pierre and 2 other gentlemen in this ancient game. It's like horseshoes and curling and lawn bowling and bowling ... hmmm Pierre gives me a coin ... dated 1876 ... he explains (I think) that at that time (1876) there were coins with the same value ... i.e. 5 lire was the same as 5 francs etc. (Foreshadow Euro?)Two sticks in the ground about 5 meters apart ... the objective was to throw the coin attempting to land as close to the stick as possible. I was Pierre's partner ... quite a handicap for him.
The name Rigaud ... I meant City ... Mme Ampeau thought I meant family name.
I was no more athletic ... adept ... at this particular game than I am at any other. On 2 or 3 occasions I hit one of the gentlemen with my coin toss ... We lost 2 games ... badly! Pierre bought me a Perrier ... we sat at the table and they chatted ... I had difficulty understanding the conversation ... difficulty! ... I understood nothing ... maybe this is what George Sand meant when she wrote the language in the villages ... 'villageois' ... each village with their own dialect ... like Italy!
Later we continued our journey into Neuvy ... Pierre directed me to the bank machine ... Mme Ampeau and 2 friends went to their choir practice. The 'cling cling cling' of the bank machine is the sweetest sound in the world when you find yourself in a foreign place with no money!
Reminds me of the experience in Venice a few years ago(another story). Learn that Pierre is the treasurer for the basilica(parish of Neuvy I presume) He has some work to do ... I go for a coffee ... patronize the local bar I avoided the day before ... same kind lady. Returned to the church (building across the street) and read a book while waiting for Pierre and Mme Ampeau.
In this book is a story about the Carmelites in France (Ste Therese is a Carmelite) ... learn that 2004 is the 400th anniversary of their arrival in France ... mentions Ste Therese of Avila and St John of the Cross ... reminded of my experience last year on the Camino ... Ruta de La Plata (Seville to Santiago) ... another story ... wow!! ... more and more 'con-necting the dots' ... so much in this one place ... Neuvy St Sepulchre
Back to the townhouse ... Pierre brings me to their garden ... a few blocks away ... a small paradise ... been in Mme Ampeau's family (Gauthier) for 100 years or so. Pierre has everything in this garden ... a wide variety of fruit trees ... some of which he has 'grafted' to produce unique varieties of fruit ... every conceivable vegetable and a dozen or so sheep pasturing next door. Pierre tells me he had 12 lambs in the spring ... so much work! Pierre is retired and seems he really enjoys his garden.
Today he is working on the wall between the garden and the road ... one of those old stone walls ... part of it fell over and Pierre is fixing it. Learn that Mme Ampeau's given names are Marie Therese ... hmmm ... my inner self smiles again ... the two names that are so often in my mind and in my heart ... the Virgin Mary(Marie) and Ste Therese ... hmmm
Supper, some delightful conversation and off to bed. Learned during supper the meaning of "Laisser Verdure" ... the last words of George Sand ... I had read about this the day before and I was impressed (curi-ous) enough to write them in my notes. (a few thousand words back)
Marie Therese brought out a book about George Sand ... spoke about her a bit(vivant) and when I saw the words "Laissez Verdure" in the book I asked Marie Therese for the meaning of "verdure" ... she pointed to the trees in the garden ... indicating 'greenery' ... now it makes sense ... think the French word for green is 'vert' ... hmmm.
Where is this George Sand encounter going? I reflect on the comments I read the day before ... apparently the French people believe these last two words spoken by George Sand are a 'mystery' ... of course I am intrigued ... and of course ... I want to solve the mystery! ... such arrogance eh! My reflections on the 'mystery' lead me to this conclusion ... 'leave it green' ... leave it full of life ... do not 'burn' it ... do not destroy it ... the 'it' being the earth ... hmmm!
Pierre's story about the 'companions' of Joan of Arc ... the 'emblems' in the church ... the 2 fish ... their family ... one in Orleans etc
Wow! ... Almost 8 pages of notes ... hmmm ... off to Gargilesse ... and hopefully some quiet time to digest all that has happened in the last day or so! Another first ... walked more than 3,000 kilometers of Chemin St Jacques ... Camino Santiago ... and this is the first time I was invited to stay in an individual’s home ... hmmm ... maybe we are related on the Gauthier side.
I'm in Gargilesse ... not sure if I will stay or walk on to the next village Cuzion ... I'll drink my coffee and decide.
Chatted for a few minutes with a couple from England ... planning to retire in this area ... there son is in the Royal Navy stationed in Ports-mouth ... they took the ferry from Portsmouth to Caan ... reminds me of the time I found myself on the ferry from Caan to Portsmouth (another story ... involving Ste Therese of Lisieux).
The English lady was sharing her son's circumstances in Portsmouth ... he can’t afford to buy his first place to live ... living on the ship ... she said ... "he can't get his foot on the first step of the ladder to get started" ... reminds me of Ste Therese's spirituality ... read it in the book I bought in Lisieux several years ago ... her way of explaining 'childlike' faith ... the image of the ladder ... step ladder ... and a toddler ... the toddler's doll or favorite toy on top of the ladder ... the toddler persistently trying to get it's small leg up on the first step of the ladder.
While it is impossible ... the toddler doesn't seem to know that it is impossible and persists! Ste Therese apparently wrote that the 'way to God' is the same ... the goal is noble ... like the toddler ... at the top of the ladder is something highly desirable ... for the toddler ... the doll or the toy ... for the pilgrim ... the seeker ... all those who want to get closer to God ... at the top of the ladder is GOD.
And also like the toddler, in our mortal (human) state it is impossible to get on the first step on the ascent to God ... it is humanly impossible. Ste Therese says we are to persist ... hope ... faith ... not give up and at the appropriate time (God's time) He will stoop down and lift us up onto the first step and so on and so on.
The day I read this little story ... I was struck by the profound truth embedded in the metaphor. Amazing how these 'memories' are percolated to the top of my consciousness by the seemingly trivial experiences and encounters ... hmmm!
Decide to stay in Gargilesse ... accommodation is 5 star ... private room ... fully equipped kitchen ... even a washing machine ... tempted to use it ... the knobs and buttons etc ... too intimidating!
Enleveur S.O.S. spray painted on the pavement ... the 2 snakes courting on the bridge.
The box of soup , the large bread I bought a few days ago ... the night I spent at 'l'abrit de nuit' came in handy tonight. A fully equipped kitchen but no place in town to buy any food ... poop!
Heated the soup, broke the stale bread into pieces and voila ... my supper ... I had the last piece of my expensive homemade cake for desert!
Two pilgrims arrived around 6:00PM ... 2 ladies ... 50+ ... they just left to go to the local restaurant for supper. Realized a few hours ago that my coffee last night in Neuvy ... after I hit the bank machine ... cost me 12 euros ... ouch! ... oh well! I'll think of it as Martial's donation!
Still in George Sand country ... her secondary residence is here ... when I asked the lady at the bar about the house ... she told me she hid her 'lovers' here ... probably was trying to say she would spend some time with her lovers here ... away from the 'fish bowl' ... Nolant ?
Read a bit of St Augustine's "Confessions' tonight ... figured I am carrying the book ... might as well read some! One sentence struck me as very interesting ... "it is not the discovery but the mere search for wisdom which should be preferred even to the discoveries of treasures and to ruling over nations and to the physical delights available to me at a nod ... footnote suggests this sentence is a quotation or at least a paraphrase of Cicero
Also see page 140 ... 'will' ... sounds like Solomon now that I write out the words
Cuzion ... 1/2 litre of apple juice and 2 croissants ... a delicious breakfast
Seems the couple of pages of Augustine's book "Confessions" that I read last night have rekindled my 'itch' to ponder the mysteries of life ... 'search for wisdom'. Another paragraph that I find appealing and intriguing ...Augustine asks himself such vexing questions ... e.g. "What causes this monstrous fact? ... and Why is it so?"
The mind commands the body and is instantly obeyed ... the mind commands itself and meets resistance.
The mind commands the hand to move ... and it is so easy that one hardly distinguishes the order from its' execution. the mind is mind and hand is body. The mind orders the mind to will. The recipient of the order is itself... yet it does not perform the command.
I recall pondering this particular mystery on several occasions during the past few years ... no insight arrived ... no answers ... so here we go again ... I'll have another go at it this morning.
Shortly after leaving Gargilesse I passed a spot along the road where several cows had been recently taken out of the pasture and walked up the road ... to a different pasture. I suppose ... the evidence supporting my statement was the several piles of cow dung on the pavement ... I have been in this particular situation on many occasions while walking the Camino.
This morning my mind went off on a journey. Seems to me the cows when leaving their comfort zone ... the pasture they have been grazing in for who knows how long ... immediately on leaving ... not before and not 50 meters down the road ... seems within a meter or 2 of the exit .. they poop!! ... at least seems many of them do ... judging from the number of poop piles.
This morning I ask why? Are they nervous or anxious about what lies ahead ... are they frightened? ... do they somehow know that they may be on their way to the slaughter house ... or is it simply a case of 'nervous stomach' resulting from moving from the 'known' ... their familiar pasture and grazing area ... to the 'unknown' ... that 'dark night' ... who knows? ... who cares? ... life is useless ... it's like chasing the wind
Seems my investigation is not done yet ... the above thoughts now on 'centre stage' of my mind invoke another curiosity ... are there parallels between the actions of the cows described above and the actions of the 2 legged animal species referred to as 'humans'.
My 'inner self' smiles and nods in agreement. We too are comfortable with the 'status quo' ... with the familiar ... being penned or fenced in by our culture ... our society ... our government ...
Seems we have a reluctance to venture outside of the 'familiar' and if it were forced ... physically ... emotionally ... or otherwise ... beyond the frontiers of the 'familiarity' ... we too become nervous or anxious ... intimidated by the 'unknown' ... the uncertainty ... the 'dark night' ... reminds me of St John of the Cross's book ... The Dark Night of the Soul
Of course, not all of us react the same ... just as not all of the cows pooped a few steps outside of the pasture ... some of us are the exact opposite ... we feel stifled by life in the 'familiar' bound by the borders or fence of our society. we can't wait to 'get out' ... some of us escape with drugs ... alcohol ... work etc some with 'creativity' ... artists of all kinds ... musicians ... painters ... writers etc
So ... what's the point of all this? ... I don't know! After all it was only several piles of cow dung on the road!
Maybe these thoughts are connected to the notion of 'will' described by Augustine. The expression 'will power' has tickled my mind on several occasions ... the word 'power' and all its' intended meanings side by side with the word 'will'.
The expression seems to infer ... determination ... tenacity ... staying power ... stick to it iveness ... something like the chewawa barking ferociously and biting at the pant leg of a large man. The little dog must know that it is physically inferior to the man ... yet ... with relentless 'will' the little dog continues ... and it is very often quite difficult to shake off this little pest ... without hurting him/her of course!
Is this a worthy example of 'will power' or simply a case of doggy foolishness?
So now I have two questions ... Augustine's question concerning 'will' and the question ... what fuel is used to 'power' the will?
People who seem to naturally possess tons of 'will power' tend to believe all people have access to the same degree of 'will power' ... Is this so?
The body and its' limbs seem to respond to exercise, repetitive actions, nutrition etc ... all athletic people clearly demonstrate the correlation between these things and the result ... the most obvious example being our Olympic athletes.
What about our mind? ... do the same principles hold? ... suppose the obvious answer is yes ... to a degree!
However, all the 'will power' in the world ... all the mental determination ... cannot help a paraplegic walk again?
Seems to me the notion of 'will' has some connection to the notion of 'collective unconscious' and 'herd instinct' ... e.g. the will to do what most people do ... to conform to 'life' inside the pen ... to follow the 'flock' as in my sheep philosophy ... in these circumstances the requirement of the 'will' seems too 'small' e.g. Our society conditions us to venerate heroes ... athletic ... political ... creative ... academic ... a resulting 'will' to emulate ... imitate ... or whatever seems a logical conclusion.
What about people like Christopher Columbus and Joan of Arc ... where did their seemingly supernatural 'will' and 'will power' come from? What drove Christopher Columbus to venture out into the 'unknown'? ... voluntarily ... several times ... leaving the pasture of 'familiarity' behind and plunging into a 'night of darkness'.
Seems obvious that the sea/ocean was feared by most people of the day ... Fisterre ... the end of the earth in Spain?
Learned several years ago that Christopher Columbus was scheduled to leave from a certain harbor in Spain. When the time to leave drew near ... he was unable to leave because the Spanish were evicting Jews from Spain in this particular harbor at time ... this was during the period of the inquisition. The writer of the book posed an interesting question ... Columbus's voyages would lead to colonization by several of the European nations ... and this would happen at the same time the Jews were being evicted ... would these new colonies become the new 'homeland' for the Jewish people ?
Back to Joan of Arc ... a young girl ... a young peasant girl ... who would make her way to the leadership of an army ... have an audience with the King of France ... win battles ... lose battles and accept being 'burned at the stake' rather than renounce her source of 'will' and 'will power' ... hmmm.
In the next few thousand steps I started to recite the Lord's prayer ... the Our Father. Remembered that St Teresa of Avila told her nuns they should take one hour to recite the Lord's Prayer ... once!!
St Teresa obviously believed there is so much hidden mystery in this one prayer ... seems logical since it is the only prayer Jesus taught His disciples ... and He taught it to them after they asked him ... Lord teach us to pray.
Today I thought I would examine the prayer from the perspective "Jesus was the first human being to have a conscious recollection of where He came from ... and likely the only human being with this conscious recollection ... see earlier notes
Paraphrasing ... Jesus said to His disciples ... I come from my Father ... my Father sent Me ... so let's look at the first few words of the prayer .
Our Father
In Heaven ... what is meant by the word 'heaven'? ... that dimension of space or being that cannot be defined or described in human terms. Change this word to 'Spirit' and seems to me we have not lost anything and perhaps can gain much. e.g. we are told in genesis that we are created in God's image and likeness ... with God as 'Spirit' ... the above statement seems much more credible.
Winston Churchill ... "we are spirits wrapped in human flesh"
Hallowed Be Thy Name
Father Charlie who I met in Bracebridge helped me with this notion of 'name'. In conversation one day about the mysterious capabilities of some people in India Father Charlie stated ... they have obviously found a way to tap into a 'higher' source of energy ... we Christians have a 'name' for this 'higher source' of energy ... Jesus ... hmmm.
Also seems I have spent considerable time contemplating the notion of 'our name'. The instructor of a Dale Carnegie course stated several years ago that the sound of our name is the sweetest sound in the world to us. this statement seems to have some merit.
Our 'name' also seems to have a shelf life that is much longer than our physical life ... for some at least ... again let's look at the names Christopher Columbus and Joan of Arc ... so much is associated with and recalled simply by vocalizing the letters that construct the name. What a mystery!
Seems our name is often our legacy ... that part of us ... while not a part of our physical being ... that lives on long after we have breathed our last breath.
Thy Kingdom .... a place ... a dimension in space
Come ... future ... not now
Thy Will ... here we go again with the word 'will'. when I got here ... the thoughts of this morning seemed to crystallize ... not sure how or in what way ... perhaps later?
Be Done
On Earth as it is in Heaven
The word heaven again. Change the word earth to flesh and the word heaven to spirit and we get ... "In the flesh as it is in the spirit" ... seems to me this is the crux of all Christian teaching. The persistent and endless struggle between our two natures (vilification) ... written about by so many people for so many years and yet still persists. What role has 'will' in this struggle?
I'm now in the church in Eguzon ... decided to come here while drinking my coffee across the street ... my motivation (more on this word motivation later) was to cool off ... it is so hot today ... my T shirt is drenched ... I put on a dry one.
Asked about internet availability ... at library at 3:30 ... decide to wait around
On entering the church my eyes wander over to the left side of the church where there is a large bulletin board heavily populated with posters. The first one I gaze on is a large picture of Ste Therese with the words ... "Je voudrais parcourir la terre en announcer l'Evangile" ... the same words as in the cover of the booklet I purchased in St Pierre ... moving! The second one titled "Les Equipes du Rosaire
Venez et prions ensemble
Toi qui cherches
Toi qui doutes
Toi qui es seul
Toi qui est malade
Toi qui es bien-portant
Toi qui es jeune ou mois jeune
Toi qui pries ...
Tous
Nous avons besoin de toi
pour trouver, pour parteger
et rayonner
de la Vie de Celui
qui est toujours avec nous
le Christ
En Priant avec Marie, sa Mere
qui a cherche, qui a souffert
qui a cru, qui nous aide
Third one Annee du Rosaire ... Une ecole de priere des Equipes Un Pelerinage avec les Domtricains
My 3 lady friends are in left front alter ... Our Lady of Lourdes Ste Therese and Joan of Arc
Seems this notion of 'will' will power, collective conscious, herd instinct and voila a new term 'collective will' is a 'biggy' a real 'biggy'
I may never understand how it works but like Augustine or Cicero wrote a long long time ago ... the search for wisdom ... the search itself ... without discovery is exciting ... for me today anyway! ... today!!
Seems much of my meditation/reflection during the past 2-3 kilometers is in some way confirmed by the words in the posters ... maybe I really am crazy!!
The word motivation popped into my head several thousand paces ago ... remember the definition in a book used for a course I took on organizational behaviour ... today seems to me the course would be better served with a title ... behavioural manipulation in organizations!!
The formula for motivation ... see everything can or needs to be reduced to 'mathematical proof' to be true
Motivation = Valence X Expectation ... where valence means the preference for one outcome versus another and expectation represents the likelihood (probability)of a successful outcome ... i.e. the preferred outcome.
My motivation for coming into the church for example ... I preferred a 'cool' ... very cool location to a 'hot' one. From experience I knew that most big old churches are quite cool inside.
et voila ... my motivation was very strong and here I am ... enjoying the 'cool' and to a lesser degree ... the ???? of being in a church.
Seemed to me that the notion of motivation is somehow related to the notion of 'will' ... they seem to go hand in hand ... strong motivation ... strong will ... strong will ... the manifestation of 'will power' ... that energy that transforms will into 'action'.
Seems I want to explore the term 'collective will'. Perhaps this expression has the same attributes and characteristics as those described by Carl Jung when he introduced the expression "Collective Unconscious" ... perhaps only a subset
One of the examples of 'collective will' that came to mind just before coming into the church was a sports team ... e.g. a hockey team ... ideally each member of the team embraces the 'will' of the team ... to win hockey games or maybe simply ... to make lots of money. Thus the connection ... Une Ecole de Priere ... Des Equipes
The 'will' of the team ... the team has no life ... in and of itself ... it is simply a word that is intended to portray a group of persons with a 'common goal' ... a 'collective will' ... seems the 'common goal' or collective will is determined external to the participants of the team e.g. the poster ... the Toronto Maple Leafs ... individuals who seek membership or participation on the team ... it would seem have somehow gained knowledge of the team's 'will' and are willing to subscribe ... have entered into the 'motivation' stage ... while the individual 'valence' may be some-what different for each member the collective valence or collective will is intended to be 'one'.
Can an individual 'will' exist outside of the 'collective will'? Seems not ... at least in the case of the human species ... we are social beings ... being alone is painful for most.
Perhaps those who are 'disconnected' from the 'collective will' are those who suffer from the various forms of central nervous system disorders ... depression in all its' forms. The 'disconnection' deprives the individual of the power ... the energy ... the force supplied by the 'collective will' ... the individual who finds themselves disconnected ... finds themselves in a big black hole ... no light ... only darkness ...hmmm ... the common story of those who suffer from depression.
In this state there is also an absence of 'will power' the power ... the energy required to act ... one friend told me that in this state he could not muster the energy to reach into the back of the fridge to grab a can of coke ... what an effect this 'disconnect' can have eh!!
Voluntary disconnection ... can it exist?? Perhaps … resulting from our discomfort with our place in the world … our parents, siblings, friends or perhaps lack of friends … lack of a connection with people who share our ‘World View’
Manipulation of the 'collective will' ... is this possible ... of course ... it's called politics, religion, heroism, culture, society etc
How so? 'Will' is in the mind, therefore manipulation requires some form of 'mind control' ... mental conditioning ... mental programming ...
Not such a bad thing ... we are likely able to live in a civilized ... quasi civilized anyway ... society where it is safe to pursue our own interests ... providing our individual interests do not extend beyond the boundaries defined by the 'collective will' of our society.
June 11, 2004 Benevant
Been a couple of days since I put down my pen. I have had time to put my thoughts ... those thoughts written on the previous few pages ... enough time to put them (my thoughts) through a few 'wash cycles' and if that wasn't enough ... I had some hot ... very hot sun to 'burn off' any remaining 'impurities'. The notion of 'collective will' remains with me ... with yet more conviction ... "where two or more are gathered in my name ... I will be there" ... collective will.
Now to the chronological review of the events of the last couple of days ... those I remember. I had a very difficult day ... going into Crozon ... the same day the notion of 'collective will' tickled my mind. I got lost a couple of times ... doubled back ... hot sun ... tired .... yuk!
I arrived at the Hotel des Ruins ... coffee time ... Marie Hélène and Francoise show up in the bar ... they sleep in the hotel.
Hotel was too expensive even with the 'pilgrim' discount.
Leaving the bar I head in the wrong direction again ... down the hill ... looking back I see a sign that indicates an 'Auberge' ... 100 meters ... Crozon ... now this sign is for people going in the opposite direction ... oops ... seems I am going the wrong way again ... where the ??? is the village.
Fortunately two gentlemen were fishing off the bridge and they con-firmed my 'suspicion' ... the village is in the opposite direction ... yuk! ... back up the hill ... yuk!
Arrive in the village convinced I will be spending the night under the stars ... Yup ... spent the night on the grass around the back of the church. Wandered around the village looking for a boulangerie to buy some grub ... nada except this store ... like a general store ... an old lady sitting in a chair ... seems she has a little of everything ... though seems the turnover is a bit slow ... stuff does not appear very fresh. I ask about a box of juice ... suppose the word 'boite de jus' doesn't mean a box of juice.
She picks up a can of pop ... I ask for a litre of juice ... she goes around the corner and comes up with a one litre jar of orange juice ... perfect. I check my pockets for money ... I have 1.20 Euros ... the jar of juice costs 1.50 Euros. My backpack is back behind the church ... only 100 meters or so. I try to explain to the lady that I will be back in a minute with the money ... she nods in agreement.
On my return, just as I am approaching the store I see this very old car pulling out with a little old lady driving ... I think to myself ...oh no! my orange juice! ... Yup ... store is closed. I look through the window and I see my orange juice is still sitting on the counter ...Yuk! ... it is going to be a long night with nothing to eat ... not completely true ... I have a piece of brownie that I bought in ' '
Back to my grass bed ... see a public WC (washroom) ... things are looking up! I wonder if there is running water in the WC? I decide to check it out ... if not I better hustle over to the bar ... maybe buy another coffee and have my water bottle filled. WC has running water ... and toilets too! ... Perfect. Change my mind about the coffee and do not go to the bar. In the next day or so found out from a Belgian Pilgrim that bed and breakfast was available in this bar for 23 Euros ... seems I was destined to sleep outside !
Bed roll out ... I lay down to rest ... couple of young boys show up ... out of sight but not out of 'hearing range' ... they stay for an hour or so ... I’m a little disappointed ... I want to try to get to sleep ... a bit sheepish ... I'm looking directly at a sign that reads "no camping in town except in the Municipal Park ... what if I am caught camping here on the grass?? Young boys leave ... a couple show up (man and a woman) ... oh no! ... how long will they hang around??
I decide to prepare for the night anyway ... change my clothes and stretch out under my sleeping bag. The couple leaves in 30-45 minutes ... great ... now I can get to sleep ... nope! ... I would spend the next couple of hours gazing at the stars ... reflecting on the day and my thoughts. Not particu-larly uncomfortable ... simply wide awake ... hmmm.
Eventually get to sleep ... up around 7:30 AM or so .. still tired ... go looking for my morning coffee ... hoping the bar is open ... nope! ... Yuk!. The old lady in the store shows up ... decide to ask her about what time the bar will open. She explains that she had to leave in a hurry the night before and she seems quite apologetic about my 'orange juice' ... she says the bar should open soon and she mentions that there is a place in Souter-raine that caters to pilgrims ... 'Trace de Soeurs'
I make a mental note ... must remember this ... the memory of the night on the grass is still very fresh!! I'm a bit disgruntled ... been up and around for 15-20 minutes ... still no coffee ... Yuk!
On my way back to my patch of grass I remember the Hotel Ruins ... ah! ... of course! ... a hotel ... they must be open to provide breakfast for people who stay at the hotel. I also remember the stairs ... a series of stone steps that lead directly down the hill ... avoid going the long way around ... 500+ meters ... works for me!
Yup the bar is open ... superb! Francoise and Marie Hélène show up ... they have breakfast. Coffee in my stomach ... I am ready for the road ... back to my patch of grass ... retrieve my back pack and 'hit the road.
Much better day ... do not get lost! The way is well marked today. A village kilometers down the road ... box of juice ... multi fruit ... multi vitamin ... bonus! ... and a croissant.
Chat with a farmer ... built from scratch l'homme va a la ruine
Next village ... not really desperate for another coffee ... need some water ... and some rest!!
See a bar that looks open ... walk past ... on the way back to this bar 1-2 minutes later ... I notice another bar down the street. My mind muses over the decision ... which bar?? ... such a luxury!!
I choose the one up the street ... why? ... becomes clear later today.
Coffee ... the lady seems quite friendly ... she brings me her book where she collects short scribblings from the pilgrims ... I write a short note. A few minutes later she mentions Trace de Soeurs ... hmmm ... 2nd time today ... she adds that pilgrims stay for 12 euros ... including supper ... bed and breakfast ... sounds appealing! She even provides directions ... enter through the Porte St Jean ... descendre direction 2ieme Eglise ... juste devant l'Eglise une rue qui s'appelle ???
Turns out the directions were impeccable ... not sure I would have found the place without them ... large enough village and seems this place is not well known.
As I arrive at what I think is the correct door ... the door opens ... some people were just leaving ... I ask ... oui ... le patron est ici .. rentrer ... superb!
Pretre Jean Baptist de la Croix de St Vallier ?? 2ieme Evesque de Quebec Abby de benevant ... take the $ de Abby ... give to Quebec
I didn't realize how fortunate I was until another pilgrim arrived an hour or so later. He had been trying to get in for 45 minutes or so ... he had called several times a few hours earlier ... he was bitter about his experi-ence ... lack of a friendly reception. He had met (for the first time) Francoise and Marie Hélène in town ... apparently they had also made several attempts via telephone and in frustration decided to stay at the hotel ... hmmm
I was provided with explicit instructions on how to find the place ... without asking ... and the door opened by itself the moment I arrived ... hmmm ... the 'price' of not carrying a portable telephone and making arrangements ahead of time ... hmmm
Lucien was very kind with me ... even opened a bottle of his own wine to have with supper ... we dined together ... a hodgepodge salad ... quite OK and a pizza ... very full stomach today ... the 3rd or 4th complete meal since leaving Canada ... Wow!!
After supper Lucien gives us ... me and the other pilgrim ... a tour of the garden and animal shelter and a brief history of the convent ... 250 nuns ... now 3 ... youngest is 72 years old. Stories about how the nuns served in the hot spots during the war and how some walked 40 kilometers a day to provide service to people ... young and old.
Lucien commented ... not every day a pilgrim from Canada ... bugs in my head ... from where???
June 11, 2004
Today turns out to be one of those days filled with 'mystery' ... so much to write ... still at the refuge in Benevant ... must get going ... will write a few details and fill in the rest later ... hopefully this evening.
Mgr Jean Baptiste de Saint Vallier ... Gronoble November 14, 1653 ... Father Jean de la Croix, seigneur de Chevrieres ... mother ... Marie de Sayne ... only daughter of Jacques de Sayne Chevalier, Seigneur de l'Echigny et de Chamblanc.
Luc calls for a large casserole bowl ... we are 5 pilgrims tonight ... Luc, Francoise, Marie Hélène and Hugo from Belgium(Flem) ... otherwise Dr would not likely have come over to the refuge. Decide not to participate in Dr's presentation to the other pilgrims ... he is very passionate about his work (28 years catering to pilgrims)
Met Dr's wife at prayers (rosary) in the church.
Dr showed up ... gave me an hour or so of his time ... a synopsis of his 40 years + of research ... incredible ... absolutely incredible! ... bird is at the window again ... what is the bird trying to tell me? Birds always remind me of St Francis … maybe the birds are telling be to pay attention … something important is about to happen.
The bird knocks on the window pane again and again and again ... hmmm ... this is almost too much to absorb ... I am torn between writing notes about what I just learned and going for a walk ... think I will walk and hopefully my little brain will put what happened in the last 24 hours through a couple of 'wash cycles'
St Augustine ... from St Benoit to St Augustine
New book appeared ... une des principle fonctions des Apotres avait ete de precher et d'evangeliser (Ste Therese) ... une mouvement a convertir les religieux "non moines" en chamoines obeisant a la Regle de St Augustine. Prior model was clunis (St Benoit)
Church ... St Bartholomew in Levack.
The Celts and Druids from Ireland brought Christianity to France ... they had a connection with Greece and Middle East ... Egypt prior to Romans ... man from Ireland at the airport .... Hmmm
My mind has sobered up from this morning’s excitement ... seems there is nothing like the hot sun and a long walk carrying a heavy back pack to sober the mind.
Back to some details from the last couple of days ... shortly after entering the village of Saint Priest La Feuille. I stopped to ask a lady who was working in her garden if it was possible to buy a coffee in the village. She nodded and indicated ... straight ahead. At this time her husband appeared ... said bonjour ... and invited me in for a coffee ... this has only happened on a few occasions on all of my walking and I usually decline.
Seems this morning I was in the mood to accept. Just before saying ... Oui merci ... I glanced down the street and Francoise and Marie Hélène were sitting at the door to the local church 75-100 meters away. I pointed my fellow pilgrims out to the kind gentleman who invited me for a coffee and he quickly included them in the invitation.
I waved my stick and another gentleman ... the neighbor across the road called out to them. Francoise came along and Marie Helens stayed at the church ... hmmm strange! Learned that they thought I had found the key to the church and Francoise came along to collect it. Quickly cleared up the misunderstanding and we all went into the home for a coffee. Turns out Henry is an artist ... a wonderful collection of his work on display in the living room ... later we would visit his workshop and view yet more of his work ... he paints in several mediums ... water color ... acrylic ... oil ... pastels and more ... really impressive ... and turns out it is only a hobby. We sit outside on the back patio for our coffee ... Henry brings out a package of cookies and Francoise shares a package of fresh Algerian dates ... yummy!
A few minutes later Luc shows up ... he had stopped to check out the local 'dolmen' and the neighbor across the street insisted that he join his friends in Henry's back yard. This visit gave me a feeling something important was happening ... I asked Henry for his name and address and his wife's maiden name.
The property has a panoramic view of the country side ... apparently been in Murielle's family for a long time (maiden name 'Ladame'). A couple of intriguing items during the visit ... I learn of the existence of ‘Dolmens'. Francoise tells me they are pre-Roman structures with a reputation for some form of 'energy' in their vicinity.
She advises that most people cannot go very close or at least not stay very close ... Legend?? Fact? Mirielle gives us each a data sheet on the dolmen near Saint Priest which includes a tragic local legend. The other item is the word 'Baracats' comes up in conversation and seems to really intrigue Luc. Apparently the people of the village were called 'baracats' for a long time ... how long?
Seems several opinions exist as to the meaning of the word ... Henry offers the word 'chance' or luck as a meaning. Mirielle mentions a few others and than with a shrug says they don't really know and if we (Luc) finds out he should let them know. Mirielle gives us the web address for the village. The word 'baracat' would come up again the next day in Benevant ... hmmm!
No way I was going close to the local dolmen ... I have an eerie feeling about these things? Learn from the data sheet that they date 2000-3000 years before Christ ...the time of King David and earlier ... the High Priest Malchizadec? The word 'Priest' in the name of the village? Aimie's mention of the Celt or earlier peoples who discovered how to start a fire?
On to Benevent
Luc is taking pictures of the church when I arrive. He gives me the key to the refuge and points me in the right direction. Francoise and Marie Hélène arrive a bit later and a new fellow pilgrim Hugo from Belgium (Flem) arrives ... wow! 5 pilgrims under one roof ... we decide to prepare and eat supper together. A bit later while visiting the church I learn there is a prayer group meeting at 6:00 PM for some prayers. Also learn that June is the month of the Sacred Heart of Jesus
The front altar in the church is dedicated to the saint who had the appari-tion of Jesus. He introduced the term Sacred Heart. I joined the group of mostly old ladies for prayers, litany of the sacred Heart of Jesus and a Rosary.
Back to the refuge intenting to do some writing. Dr arrives and launches into a passionate and high volume discussion with the French Pilgrims. Hugo and I decide not to participate ... our French is not good enough! I figure Francoise or Luc will fill me in later.
Luc calls him for a casserole dish ... that's why he came over ... to deliver the casserole dish and have a look at Francoise’s foot. I mentioned to the Dr’s wife in the church that one of the pilgrims walking with me has a large infection on her feet.
On his way out Dr stops at the table where I am writing and says some-thing about Quebec and some long ... very long French name ... he seems surprised I don't know the name ... Jean Baptiste de la Croix de Sainte Vallier which in the documentation is Mgr Jean Baptiste de Saint Vallier. I learn later that his father was John of the Cross ... hmmm ... any refer-ence there to St John of the Cross in Spain?
Druids ... Baracat ... Psalm 121 Augustine ... distorted will ... collective will
June 13, 2004
I am in Les Billanges - today is Election Day. It's windy ... the door slams in my face as I enter ... I comment ... indicates I'm not invited ... kind gentleman invites me in ... coffee time.
Felt weak leaving the village ... no energy ... no will ... no will power ... felt like quitting?
Strength and positive feeling gradually returned ... feel compelled to write ... now!
Why did Luc call for a casserole bowl?
Why did Dr show up ... not his wife?
Why was I initially turned off by Dr ... his loud and aggressive voice and mannerism ... later learn this was simply a manifestation of his 'passion' for his work ... a reflection of his 'will power' to do what he does.. Hmmm
Why did I get excited when he This excitement would lead to his invita-tion started to tell me about Jean Baptiste(only now is the name really 'kicking in' ... hmmm) and how he managed to divert funds from the Abby Benevant to finance his work in Quebec.
This excitement would lead to his invitation to accompany him to his home to borrow some reading material on Jean Baptiste
In the car on the way to his home ... only 1 kilometer ... he would say the word 'baracat' ... hmmm ... of course this aroused my curiosity ... second time I hear this word in 2 days ... the intrigue and mystery attached to the first time I heard it. I launched into an enquiry about the origin and the meaning of the word 'baracat'.
Apparently Dr had also researched the history of this word ... why? ... Who knows eh! An Arab word in this part of the country? Dr with the same passion employed when speaking of Jean Baptiste explains that he has studied Islam and the Koran and the word means "Under the protec-tion of the Divine" ... in Christianity ... under the protection of God ... Yikes ... no sooner had he uttered these words and my memory instantly retrieved some events earlier today when I visited the church. The bible was open on the stand in the front altar ... as in St R ... open (Ecclesiastics ... life is useless ... like chasing the wind) my curiosity was aroused.
I went back to check out what was on the open page ... Psalm 121,122,123 and 124 ... I went to my bible to check out what these Psalms were all about ... Psalm 121 ... The protection of God ... Yikes!! ... Coincidence? ... Synchronicity?
Note in the back of the church ... Gospel of John ... the Virgin Mary will give you all truth
My excitement and intrigue is mounting ... back to the refuge ... my fellow pilgrims want to get to sleep ... I write a bit and than try to go to sleep myself ... restless night ... didn't sleep much ... gave my mattress to Francoise and Marie Hélène.
Next morning decided to scan some of the material Dr had loaned me the night before while sipping on my morning coffee ... quite interesting ... Jean Baptiste same period as Lois de Montfort (paper from 1998 in Jerusalem) St Jean de Breboeuf
Decided to photo copy a couple .of pages of his book. Intrigued that I am in this place learning about the early history of Canada ... French Canada anyway! Consider staying in the village for another day ... mixed feel-ings. Back to the refuge ... start writing ... thinking I will write a bit and than leave... try to digest what has happened ... Dr shows up ... see previous notes
What remains in my mind from all that Dr told me that morning?
The stamp of the 'goose' ... 2 instances ... one in flight ... the trademark of the builders of the church ... the goose as the 'bird' of Canada ... the goose symbolizing 'spiritual quest’?
The Druids ... Celts being in contact with the Greeks and Egyptians long before the Roman Empire. Christianity being brought to continental Europe by the Celts from Ireland ... not the Romans?
The feeling of a 'connection' between this and the man from Ireland at the airport?
The story told by the artwork in the church
congregate ... come together and go up
The church built on Druid measurements and technology ... the Golden number ...pi ... the number '6' ... now this came back connected to lots of dots ... St Augustine writes of the number '6' ... the only whole integer where the aggregate of its' divisors is the 'number' e.g. 1+2+3=6 ?
St Augustine ... in his book City of God (another story) also writes about the 6th age of man begins with the birth of Jesus ... and states this is the last ... final ... age of man because Jesus has no offspring.
Cause of the revolution ... the church exploited the peasants harshly ... a ce bon pied
The City of Man and The City of God ... in the same book ... 2 'collective wills' ... distortion of the will?
Page 14 in confessions
The rope bridge ... the chasm between the journey across and changing collective will participation.
The influence of St Augustine in the Abby Benevant ... see previous notes ... hmmm ... connection of the dots?
Back to what Dr said about the number '6' ... he talked about the form ... the 'shape' of the numeral 6 ... he said something to the effect ... if you straighten it out you have ... a seed ... I think he was referring to symbol-izing the 'germination of the spirit' in the universe.
While walking this morning my imagination latched onto this notion and came up with another notion ... if you straighten out the numeral 6 .. you get ... a 'sperm' ... the seed of man ... the serpent ... hmmm 666 ... the number of the beast ... 3 instances of 6 ... 3 is the number representing the 'divine' ... 4 represents man the square ... 3 the triangle ... Pierre's com-ments about the 'Heart of Berry' ... the intersection of the medians of a triangle ... the seventh day ... the Sabbath ... the day God rested in genesis ... WOW!! ... Pena alba ..(Another story)
The difficult ... hard ... very hard ...'dawn' Ste Teresa in Alba ... vilifica-tion ... transformation ... birth of the spirit ... no longer trapped in the flesh!
This notion of 'collective will' seems to be growing stronger and stronger ... the seed is germinating!!
Elijah ... how long will you people continue to limp along with 2 opinions ...'distorted will'(another story) ... the altars in the old testament ... dol-mens ...? brought to Europe by the Druids ???
You will know by the fruit ... suppose it is time to be humble and patient ... again ... still!!
While I remain a 'flock of one' ... all of this is still my personal fantasy ...
On to the next village ... the post cards on the wall ... Upper Egypt ... ancient structures and St Jacques Compostel
Back again ... a couple of kilometers later ... by the river ... crossed the bridge (Puente La Reina ...Jaca and other where all Caminos converge ... hmmm)
Seems today is one of those days that I have to write ... have to get it out of my head and on paper ... reminds me of Kabbala ... after you believe you have received some 'wisdom' ... you must share ... or the tap will be turned off ... and maybe if you persist in not sharing ... the pressure will build up and "kaboom" ... not "kabbala"
Wonder how many cases of mental breakdown are caused by this notion ... it has never been easy to 'share off color' thoughts and feelings ... the fear of persecution seems to be enough to keep them bottled up ... fish or cut bait ... Joan of Arc scribbling ... the dogs barking and the flock of sheep ... Christian last year.
On with revealing my thoughts ... 2500-3000 years ago mankind had conquered hunger ... agriculture and animal husbandry ... grain bins and flocks of sheep and goats. Mankind had also conquered security ... fortified communities ... weapons ...armies ... communal living ... united we stand.
So what would be next ... given that hunger and security were more or less conquered ... perhaps the clue lies in a few of the persons of this era ... Solomon ... Socrates ... Buddha ... Confucius. Solomon and Buddha's story is interesting ... both possessed considerable wealth and power and all of the physical luxuries in abundance ... available to mankind at the time ... yet both in different ways seemed to 'grasp' the incompleteness ... the unfairness ... the something is missing here notion. Both are legends in terms of their contribution to the body of knowledge known as 'wis-dom'.
Socrates gave his life for his conviction concerning the existence of one Divine Being ... one supreme 'God" . Interesting that again it seems mankind was nudged 'up the ladder' so to speak in different geographies and different cultures at or about the same time ...hmmm
Are we on the threshold of the next 'leap' in transformation (transfigura-tion another story).
Sitting on a bench in Mount Carmel ... man beside says you can catch a boat to many places ... cheap ... even Turkey ... little did I know a few years later a boat would take me to Turkish soil. Ephesus. Reminded as well about the 'locutions' I received on several occasions at mass a month or so before I left Canada ... Come to Me ... I will prepare you for battle. I will put on your girder or something like that. Right now this kind of spooks me! Back to my walk ... hope this burst of stuff in my mind settles down!
First exposure to Elijah ... the statue in the church and the cave
Back again ... couple of kilometers down the road ... the next village ... last village before stopping for the night ... about 10 kilometers to go ... strength is fading
Walked right past the bar ... stomach still full from lunch at the river ... church on the road and the door open ... decide to rest. Think this is another one of those abandoned churches with masses only once in a while ... no lamp burning on the altar ... assume no Eucharist in the tabernacle. though occurs to me ... are not the altars in our churches a remnant of the "dolmen" cult??
Two thoughts return since I last wrote ... one the flock of sheep and barking dog ... now my mind puts this image up against the notion of 'collective will ... seems logical that mass participation in the 'collective will' ... the flock of sheep is maintained as much by the 'perception of fear' as it is by our natural need to 'belong' ... poverty can not hurt you ... the fear of poverty can kill you ... stress ... perception is reality... fear of rejection ... fear of non-acceptance ... fear of poverty ... fear of loss of stature etc ... hmmm so many dogs barking every where ... all the time ...hmmm
Literally on the Camino ... yet non have more than barked yet! ... al-though some who were restricted by a fence or a chain looked pretty ferocious ... closest event was the goose on the road one day ... goose again ... seems they are fearless and protective animal ... Lionel said they are better than a guard dog ...hmmm
Second thought that came back again was my experience in Ar yesterday. Arrived at the church door and find the key in the door ... go in and have my lunch inside the church. Couple from Holland come along ... seemed surprised that I am in the church ... with a look that says it's always locked ... this couple lives in the village ... secondary residence nonethe-less , the gentleman starts taking pictures . Seems obvious that for how-ever long they have lived in this village they have never been inside this church ... hmmm reminds me of the experience 2 days ago when Fran-coise and Marie Hélène mistakenly thought I had found the key to the church in Saint Priest ...hmmm!
My imagination runs away with this small experience too ... here I have been given the key to the church ... the House of God ... the Kingdom of God ... what a fantasy! and what an ego eh!!
Mary Magdalene stooping over body of Jesus post crucifixion ... first person to see the risen Jesus
Greek like icon of Mary ... Lady of Perpetual Help
To make matters worse I am writing these notes in a church ... my 3 lady friends are here ... St Michael is here ... Sacred Heart of Jesus is here and more ... an unusual statue ... one I have never seen before ... St Peter holding up a key in his right hand and a rooster at his feet ... have seen the statue with St Peter holding the key ... never with a rooster.
Have always found the 'denial' and 'rooster' part of the story of St Peter fascinating. The man whom Jesus would entrust with the key to the Kingdom of God and all the perks that go along with it would deny knowing his Master 3 times ... always to women??? ... Seems like another example of perceived fear ... and perception is reality.
I arrive in St Leonard Noblant ... I find the church ... a lady is walking toward me ... decide to ask her about the location of the refuge ... she gives me the look ... I don't have a clue what you are talking about. Before I can say merci ... I hear a voice behind me ...its Francoise and Marie Hélène ... with the gentleman who looks after the refuge. They were just finishing their tour of the church. Once again ... impeccable timing ... what a relief! ... I am tired.
Just after I put my pen down and hoisted my backpack onto my shoulder ... walked about 50 meters up the trail ... a kind lady is standing on the side of the trail with an inviting look ... one that says ... stop and chat if you have time. She was such a gentle lady ... she offered me something to drink ... I asked to have my water bottle filled ... a few minutes earlier I had been a bit nervous about not having enough water for the remaining 6 kilometers. She told me she is from Limonge ... bought the house beside the trail as a weekend home and now lives in it permanently. She ex-plained that the house was a prison originally ... a long time ago.
My mind wouldn't let go of the rooster at the foot of the statue of St Peter ... deny 3 times before the cock crows ... kept going through my mind and than a 'cogito' moment ... the cock(rooster) crows to announce the dawn of a new day ... the dawn of the Age of Aquarius melody played in my head. So much symbolism that points to the dawn of a new era ... a new age of man ... hmmm
Learn that St Leonard is a patron saint of prisoners ... is that why the lady told me her home was formerly a prison. Reminded of a dream a friend shared with me several years ago. She found herself in this prison ... frantically trying to find her way out ... up and down stairs ... in and out of alleys ... some people told her to go this way ... she went ... dead end ... other people said no no ... go this way ... again dead end and so on and so on ... she never did get out of the prison in her dream. At the time I believe I shared my interpretation of her dream ... symbolizes people trying to find freedom ... the light ... the truth ... and being told so many different stories about what to do and how to find it ... and most often all leads to a dead end ... like the various religions.
Also reminds me of the time a few years ago when I heard at mass the gospel reading about how Jesus came to save prisoners ... now I had heard this story so many times and I had always taken the words literally ... at face value ... came to help people recover/heal from being in jail/prison. This particular day my understanding was quite different ... He came to help us all ... we are all prisoners in this valley of tears.
Picked up the feathers on the road.
Winston Churchill ... we are not humans with a spirit ... we are spirits wrapped in human flesh. Today it seems more appropriate to say we are spirits trapped in human flesh.
The same friend had another dream a few weeks later that she gave birth to a white lamb ... weird eh! ... I thought all lambs were born black ... even at the time I still considered the lamb referring to the "Lamb of God" ... Jesus. Maybe the two dreams are connected after all ... the prison and the savior/redeemer. St Leonard are you helping me to understand this?
The artwork ... a rooster sitting on top of a cross symbolizing "Christ" announcing the dawn of a new age!
St Leonard 494-559
"Mais il est surtout l'intercessor au pres de Dieu, de tous les hommes qui veulent se liberer de l'egoisme et de l'orgueil"
June 14, 2004
Now that was a pleasant surprise! I'm in Auriel. Just before walking into the village I am mentally challenging the practicality of leaving St Leonard without eating and without buying anything for the road. It's not that I was in a rush to leave ... seems I simply wasn't in the mood to eat or buy anything to eat. Contrast this experience with yesterday ... yesterday without planning or intention I had a fabulous breakfast ... hot chocolate, coffee , croissant toasted bread with butter and honey .. jam ... a few cherries. I had asked the chef the evening before what time he opened in the morning ... concerned about my morning coffee!
I also mentioned that there were 2 other pilgrims who would likely be interested (Francoise and Marie Hélène) He agreed to open an hour earlier than usual 8:00 vs. 9:00 .
When I arrived ... alone and before Francoise and Marie Hélène ... entered the small bar/restaurant and here is this feast all set out on a table ... at this point I am too embarrassed to decline the wonderful break-fast(regardless of cost) ... and to boot ... my appetite came to life and I was hungry ... quite hungry! ... Very unusual for me in the mornings.
So this morning I leave with only my coffee in my belly ... I pass a bar on the way out of town ... take a second look ... think about it ... maybe they have croissants ... nope ... keep going. A few minutes later I stop at an Auberge Restaurant ... door is open ... I think maybe they will have a croissant ... enter and ask ... nope! Seems I have to walk the 10 kilometers with only my coffee ... Oh well!!
The time and the distance passes quickly enough ... especially the first 7 kilometers ... figure I am flying on the wings of fantasy again and experi-encing the energy ... the adrenaline rush from this bad habit!
Anyway ... arrive in Auriel ...tiny village with a big church ... my eyes scan up and down the street ... see the exit sign for this village. Oh! Oh! ... What I see is all there is.
Notice this tiny little rather old sign "Restaurant" ... the building looks like one of those ...'former restaurant locations! ... closed up ... abandoned or converted to a personal residence.
I look ... I look again... decide there is no restaurant bar here ... start to leave ... say to myself ... if it is not here(my croissant) I have to walk all the way to L without anything ... another 10 kilometers ... Yikes!!
I walk up to the door ... peer through the window in the door ... not very bright inside ... open the door and stick my head inside ... two people sitting at a table ... I have the feeling I am trespassing ... illegally entering a personal residence.
The people smile ... I ask "Is this a restaurant?" ... the response is "entre entre" ... Ok I am in now.
One of the ladies ask me if I am here to eat ... I reply ...yes ... something small ... not much .
She obviously didn't understand my response. She urges me to follow her into another room. I start to drop my backpack ... she says ... non ...non ... bring it with you ...OK!
She brings me into this large room with several tables and lots of noise ... a table of 12-15 gentlemen ... eating and conversing ... and laughing.
She directs me to a table in the far corner of the room ... all eyes seem to be on me ... Oh well! After sitting I ask her if there is a menu or only the lunch special ... she replies only the lunch special.
By this time I am too embarrassed to say it has been a misunderstanding ... get up and walk out ... I'm trapped! Yikes!! I would never have volun-tarily decided to buy such a wonderful meal ... Oh Well! ... Now that I'm stuck here ... might as well enjoy it ... and I did.
She brings some bread and a plate of tomatoes but I dove into them like they were candy! Beef, wine, potato (cake) desert, coffee, salad ... ate like a pig ... had no idea how hungry I was!!
Coffee doesn't come ... men leave so I decide to write
Back to the walk ... about kilometers 6 or 7 a cross made from steel is on the path ... a bit decorative ... nothing terribly special ... I've seen so many crosses and crucifixes along the way. As I looked at this cross suddenly 2 filing cabinets in my memory flew open and revealed their contents to my conscious mind ... top of mind ... as if to say ... here look at me ... re-member me ... oh! how the mind and the memory is such a mystery.
One memory occured on Mount Kruzevick in Medugorje in 1996 or 1997. Sitting on top of the mountain (the same mountain I saw my first authentic flock of sheep and shepherd) was this young lady ... I remember her feet and ankles were all swollen and looked like they caused her considerable pain. I think her name was Snejena or something like that meaning snow white or something. She explained this to me in her limited English. For some reason she also described her understanding of the symbolism in the 'cross ... a crucifix ... with or without the image of the body of Christ. The vertical component represents the connection between man on earth and God in Heaven.
The horizontal component symbolizes those times where we humans do not conform our 'will' to the 'will' of God and the result is suffering ... the suffering of Jesus crucified ... always appreciated this interpretation.
Len ... Leonard and Leonardo Gaulois and Roman
Gaulier Gautier Gauthier all derivatives of Gaulois? ... the Gauls??
The other memory was Father Bourque (another story) He also provided an interpretation of the symbolism in the cross ... the vertical component symbolized the reconciliation of man the individual and 'God' ... from bottom (man) to God (top). The horizontal component symbolized the inclusion of all peoples in this reconciliation ... Jesus stretched out His arms to include all of mankind ... also have always enjoyed this interpre-tation ... both have been absent from my conscious thought for a long time. Also remember the roots of the word 'religion' is something to the effect ... to reconnect with God
*** insert ... the word reconnect infers there was a disconnect ... the essence of the story of Genesis.
Spent some time trying to dust off some other memories of interactions with Father Bourque. He was instrumental in the early days weeks and months of my 'journey'
crazy or saint
alone ... be killed (prophet)
touching my arm (surge of energy/electric) He was asking what I would do without human touch. Term from Kitchener woman. Skin starved.
baptized with water and than fire (Virgin Mary) response to my attempted suicide ... immersing myself in the lake)
his passion for North American Indian rendition of Christianity ... his art collection
2 angels Paula and Ii refurbished
I know you love God ... I can see it in your eyes
I was expecting you ... woke up in the night thinking of you
quasi annulment ... joy of participating in Eucharist again after a 20-30 year absence
Back again ... in Limoges
Before leaving the restaurant decided to count the chairs at the table ... the one with the large group of noisy ... in a friendly way ... of men. 12 chairs ... oops ... nope ...1 3 ... one at the head of the table. At the number 12 my mind went to the last supper ... when I realized there were 13 gentlemen ... a very slight sense of disappointment ... nope ... no way I could tie this experience to the 'last supper' ... there were only 12 disci-ples. A few seconds later my mind went ... now just a minute ... there were 12 disciples plus Jesus at the last supper ... hmmm maybe there is something here!
My mind amused itself with the number 13 for a while ... laughing at itself for always having the number 12 associated with the 'last supper' ... than moving on to recall the superstitions associated with the number 13 ... Friday the 13th ... some buildings without a 13th floor ... the numbers o from 12 to 14 ... always found this amusing when traveling in the eleva-tors in these buildings.
Than on to the memory that the apparitions at Fatima were all (except one) on the 13th of the month ... Oh how amusing the mental game of playing with numbers can sometimes be ... my mind must be pretty empty that it has time to amuse itself with this stuff!
13 Euros for the meal ... 13 Euros for the room ... hmmm
Walking the first couple of kilometers my mind went back to the number 6 ... in particular the shape and form used to create the symbol represent-ing the numeral ... and the comments of Dr in Abbey Benevent.
Today my mind drifted away a bit ... looking at the number 6 like this ... 9 ... forms the shape of our nervous system with the closed area at the top representing our brain and the stem our spinal cord ... this is very similar to some far out thoughts and discussions I had with Ash at work a few days before leaving. At that time I was sharing with Ash my thoughts that the shape of a serpent is similar to the shape of our central nervous system ... with the head of the serpent representing our brain ... I remember his comment ... the bottom of our spine ends in a point (narrow) shape ... like that of a serpent ... hmmm
Suppose one could reshape the symbol for the number 6 to look like a serpent too!!
My imagination wasn't finished with this yet ... went on to look at 3 upside down 6's together 999 ... shape modified again ... a different rendition of the number 666 associated with the number of the beast ... end times stuff.
My mind said ... what if the number of the beast is not a number at all ... so let's look at the quantity of the 6's ... 3 of them ... there is that Divine number again ... so let's say the number of the beast is actually the period of time when mankind feels it has no more need of the Divine ... of God ... mankind is arrogant enough to believe it can control it's own destiny etc ... seems to fit with where we are today ... stem cell research ... cloning ... re-engineering food in our food chain ... vegetables ... drugs for animals etc
Seems to me we live in a time that fits the above theory ... so maybe there is no "beast" after all ... hmmm. Spoke with a retired priest earlier this evening ... he was a professor at some institute in Spain. I am staying at the building that was formerly a seminary and before that a hospital (apparently built by the Americans during WW II) This priest attended this seminary in 1944 ... and he tells me there were 100 seminarians housed here at that time. Today there is 2 from this area and they went somewhere else ... seems to support the hypothesis
That mankind has decided since we don't need God anymore we don't need priests either... ???
When I said goodbye to Francoise and Marie Hélène this morning I figured I may not see them again ... because Limoges is quite a large city
On the outskirts of the city I look up ... I look at the ground a lot when I am walking ... and there they are ... about 50 meters in front of me! And thank goodness!! ... they not only found this place to stay ... 5 star ... they prevented me from getting lost on the way into the city ... Francoise is a stickler for details and she pays close attention to the guide.
Surprising how helpful these two ladies have been in the last several days ... I remember saying to them after the first day or so ... seems our 'paths' are destined to keep intersecting .. at the time we were running into each other an odd ball circumstances ... seems we still are
Francoise paid my 'fee' here ... the receptionist had no change ... Fran-coise paid by cheque ... yet another small instance of how they seem to be helping me ... intentionally or otherwise.
Checked my email ... received a nice ecard from Judy ... checked my bank account ... seems I'll be OK for a bit longer ... today for some reason I felt more comfortable about money ... earlier this afternoon ... wonder if it had anything to do with splurging on lunch today
Thought about the rooster and announcing the dawn of a new day and the denial 3 times. seemed symbolic ... a way of prophesying that most people would deny the Divinity of Jesus until the rooster crows for the arrival of the final dawn ... sure we give lip service to the belief ... but for most of us ... seems to me the vast majority ... certainly not all though ... nothing more ... like Jesus said to the Pharisees and Sadducees ... your lips articulate the prayers and you even follow the 'law' ... yet your 'hearts' are as hard as stone ... really now ... has anything changed?
Remember sometime today the 'washing of the feet' part of the gospel ... Jesus didn't ask his disciples to drop on one knee and kiss the ring or His hand ... He put on the apron ... and washed their feet ... and said to them ... I do this as an example of how you are to be ... so how close do we ... any of us ... resemble Jesus' example?
Another open bible today ... in the hallway at the seminary ... Open at Isaiah 61 ... The Good News of Deliverance... yikes!! ... Particularly 61 1-2
"He has sent me to proclaim
That the time has come
When the Lord will save His people
And defeat their enemies
* ... words used by Jesus at the beginning of His ministry to express His calling
Yikes!! ... Yikes!!
Martial on my mind a lot this morning... Limoges ... St Martial ... forgetting my guide at the tobacco store "chose poses ... chose oubliez"
Le Saint Sacrament du Corps et du Sang de Christ
Genesis 14, 18-20 Malkesidek
Psalm 109(110) 1,2,3,4 109.4
Tu es pretre a jamais Christ et Seigneur
Luc 9 115-117 5 bread 2 fish
Gift from the butcher ... pork sausage ... later give to Francoise the experience at the Boucherie Charcutterie ... while waiting for my quiche to warm up ... man beside me rushes out of the store to the plaza across the street ... an old man is lying on the pavement ... the owner of the store goes over ... comes back and says the elder gentleman is very sick ... the gift of the sausage ... worth more than I paid for my quiche
I eat my lunch leaning up against the church realize I have lost my guide … Yikes! … back track … down the hill to the tobacco shop ½ kilometer … whew! … found it. Back to the church to retrive my backpack … decide to visit for a few minutes … room full of relics … no entry … bible open on the altar again … almost afraid to go see what page is open … as I am noting the page open I hear voices … sounds like Francoise and Marie Helene … Yup! … and an older lady about 80 who is crying and in some sort of panic … leave my notes and approach the older lady who is now explaining her story to Fran-coise and Marie Helene … she has lost her husband … she has been looking all over and can’t find him … thus the panic. I wonder to myself if it is the same man who was lying on the pavement earlier … turns out it is … we find the older lady a ride home … she says she will call her son … apparently she has had a bad couple of days … wonder why I was involved in these events???
Chalus
Sitting in a bar called Lawrence of Arabia … the lady tells me Lawrence visited (stayed over night) here … was called the Grand Hotel at the time … apparently he was traveling across France on bicycle at the time and was here to visit the Chateau ‘Richard the Lion Heart’. Seems I am in Richard the Lion Heart country today …hmmm … (the gentleman in Split … all children are a blessing and Richard the Bruce … another story) More about Lawrence of Arabia later … seems he is also one of those human beings who changed the course of history … what would the world be like today if the Turks still controlled the Middle East … with all the oil that was and is there???
Back to yesterday … there would be 2 more surprises on the walk from Limonges to Cars … one not so pleasant! The walk was 30 kilometres and my feet were aching from the moment I left Limonges. At the 20 kilometre mark I was literally limping along … wondering how I would survive the next 10 kilometres. As fate would have it … I had nothing to worry or be anxious about … around the 20 kilometre mark I was given a ‘shot in the ass’ … an experience that would alleviate the pain and ache in my feet … or at least give me something else more painfull to think about … a pain in my lower right cheek … facing south … the lower eastern part of my west cheek … my butt!!
A big … real big german sheperd bit me in the ass!! It all happened so fast … it was over before I saw it coming … at the time I am walking along slowly … half limping … I hear a dog bark and I see a dog approaching me … sort of … my mind is kinda out to lunch … drifting off somewhere. I hear the shout of the dogs owner … a lady. Perhaps hearing the shout of the dogs’ owner gave me a false sense of security … surely the dog would respond to its’ owner and I would be safe. I just kept walking along … and … zap! … ouch!!
I turned around to face the dog and said ‘non’ … nothing more … don’t remember being in a state of panic … the dog still looked menacing as though he was ready for more … ???
Francoise and Marie Helene were about 20-30 metres behind me … whenever we have been on the Camino together they have usually always been in front of me … I explained to them that I have 2 speeds … slow and stop!
So why today was I in front and ‘zap’ … ouch! … again.
The dog decided to leave and head towards Francoise and Marie Helene … Yikes!! … mixed feelings … joy that the dog was walking away from me … anxiety about what he might do to Francoise and Marie Helene. All this time the dog is barking, the owner is shouting and us 3 pilgrims are silently wondering what will happen next. The dog turns back towards me … Yikes! … I learn later that Francoise carries a dog ‘zapper’ … some kind of electronic device that emits a high frequency sound … maybe the dog was repelled by this???
Anyway he is now back menacing me … barking … threatening … I repeat the word “no” a few times … in English and in French in case he is not bilingual
The owner is now approaching me … to collect her dog … thank goodness!! I rub my butt … it’s bloody sore!
The ladies … Francoise and Marie Helene ask me if I have been bitten … I nod affirmative … they notice that my pants are ripped! … they ask me if I want them to clean it and put some disinfectant on … Marie Helene says she is carrying some medicine for this purpose. Given the rather sensitive location of the ‘bite’ … I politely decline!
The pain and aching in my feet disappear … I am energized! … start walking faster than usual … joke to Francoise … I can’t sit anymore so I might as well walk! The next 6-7 kilometers pass rather quickly. My mind is focused on the bar in the next village … I had wanted a coffee anyway … and now I want to have a look at the ‘memory’ my encounter with this large German Shepherd had left me. My butt hurts!
Arrive at the bar … have my coffee … decide I had better put some of the stuff I have in my backpack for blisters on my butt, if there is any skin broken.
Go to the washroom to check it out … close the door to the small room that houses the toilet, pull down my pants and twist my neck to have a look … can’t see anything … feel with my hands .. I can feel some-thing but the location is not visible even with the maximum turn of my neck. Think to myself … I will need a mirror to see this … one of those floor mirrors.
Oh well! … I walk into the enclosure just outside the toilet rooms … where there is a sink to wash your hands … and ‘voila!’ … one of those floor mirrors … now this is really strange.
Rarely do you see, if ever, this kind of mirror in the small bars in the small villages … this must have been all planned!! Predestined!!
I have a look … Yikes! … a large enough scar … no wonder it hurts I think to myself. I apply some of the red stuff … as best I can
I expect Francoise and Marie Helene to show up any time and I wonder how I will react if they ask to see the evidence of the dog bite. They don’t show up … I figured they bypassed the bar and went directly to the next village … the scheduled stop for the day … nope! … This leads to the next surprise of the day.
I wouldn’t see Francoise and Marie Helene again today …at least I didn’t think I would
I arrive in the village … knowing the guide says there is a refuge and it is necessary to contact the Maire. It’s about 7:30 PM … the Maire’s office has been closed since 5:00 PM … no problem I think to myself … someone here will help me out … such arrogance eh!
I stop in front of a home where an older man is sitting on the front step. Ask him if he knows where the refuge is located. He explains that I have arrived much too late … it is the Maire who looks after it and you have to arrive before 5:00 PM. Oh well! … I ask him if he has seen 2 other pilgrims … I am referring to Francoise and Marie Helene.
He replies … “oui” … they arrived much earlier and they are at the refuge. Thinking this is a bit strange … but I go along with the flow and ask for directions to the refuge … confirming once again that the 2 other pilgrims are indeed at the refuge … yup! … good enough for me. He points to the opposite direction of the bar … I always prefer to head towards the bar … not away from it so I ask him how far it is … about 600 meters … not bad. He tries to give me more specific directions … several clues … some of which I understand … the rest???
I get to the village pool and tennis court … a few buildings around … none look like a refuge … although no 2 refuges look alike so I don’t know where I get this notion from??? I wander around looking here … looking there … and ‘voila’ … some clothing hanging on a rail at the building beside the pool … the best proof of the existence of a refuge and the presence of pilgrims … how encouraging.
Think it is strange that Francoise and Marie Helene already have laundry done.
I go up to the door … it’s locked … oh!oh! Peek in through the window and notice 2 people sitting at a table in the middle of a large room. They notice me and wave instructions to go around to the other side of the building … Whoopy! Success!
Auriele explains they walked 40 kilometers … very fast to arrive before 5:00PM … and I saunter in …
A very nice couple from Belgium … Auriele … same name as saint in Limoges??? Confirms there is space … 2 rooms converted to sleeping rooms … they occupied one and I was ushered to the vacant room .. 2 single beds … pushed together.
A tinge of disappointment … what will I do when Francoise and Marie Helene show up? Oh well! … guess I’ll sleep on the floor … at least I have a roof over my head … and don’t need to worry about a dog attacking me in the night … like at ‘ ‘ when I slept outside in the back of the church.
Head for the bar, partly for another coffee and partially to look for/enquire about Francoise and Marie Helene … maybe they are looking for the refuge. No sign of them … ask the lady at the bar … nope! Divine Providence?? … happy to have a bed!!
No shower … so what!! Try to get to sleep … very, very tired … seems the 2 recent coffees are keeping me from sleeping! Look at the route for the next day … lights off … back to my attempt to sleep … nope … up again … decide to read the bible passages I wrote down at the Church in Limoges … Malkezedek … hmmm … see comments several pages back.
No big reaction to readings … back down … in a short while I am asleep!!
Fellow pilgrims have already left when I get up to pee … left me a note on how to get out … the door I came in was ‘locked’ … could not exit this way. Turns out I had to jump the fence by the pool. Back to bed … someone shows up a bit later … ask him for time … maybe the Maire … it’s 7:15 AM … still not ready to get up.
Crawl out of bed … pack up … and head to the bar/restaurant where I had reserved breakfast … glad I reserved … great breakfast\t despite the cost 5.5 Euros … juice large coffee croissant bread butter and jam. When breakfast arrived … I said to myself … wow! … won’t be able to eat all this … I’ll make myself a jam sandwich for the road I thought to myself … nope! … ate it all … I was more hungry than I thought … shared a tiny bit with a huge black dog … St Bernard … Newfy
Hot today … first 10 kilometers quite nice … some through the bush … with shade!!
Reflecting on the experience yesterday … the dog bite. First thought was ‘omen’ that I will be attacked from the rear in the future … I must be careful and be prepared.
Much later I found myself smiling to myself inside … enough that it percolated to my head and I smiled outside … literally! The thought occurred to me that I was given the ‘shot in the ass’ to encourage me … to remind me that I have not been given all that I have been given (assuming ‘wisdom’ here) to keep it to myself(no one lights a lamp and puts it under a bushel)
I remembered that just before the bite I was going through another one of those periods of ‘doubt’ thinking that all that I have written, all my thoughts and reflections are useless and I must stop and further I will not share this stuff with anyone … I go through this kind of ‘doubt’ often ,,, thus the ‘bite’ in the ass … Divine Providence reminding me that He is in charge and I will do whatever He asks me to do … or else???
Thus the smile … almost a chuckle …!!
Dog was more menacing than vicious. The immediate surge in energy and the relief from the pain and ache in my feet made it almost worth-while.
More reflections this morning on the readings from last night … Malkizadek … High Priest … King of Salem. In my mind I always associate the word ‘Salem’ with witch and witchcraft … why?? … is there some basis for this … is I true?? … if so … what is Judaism doing being associated with witches and witchcraft???
Malkezedek bringing bread and wine to Abraham … symbolizing food and drink for the flesh … no more?? Malkezedek asking the Most High God to bless Abraham … not Malkezedek blessing Abraham?? Abrahams willingness to sacrifice his only son Isaac … and than not … symbolizing God telling us He wants no more sacrifices … no more intermediaries … He will deal ‘be’ one with us One on one and us with Him??
Abrahams 2 sons … again symbolizing the notion of 2 ‘collective wills’
Strange notions … I have no wish … absolutely no wish to challenge church authority and tradition I am still so comfortable embracing Jesus as Messiah and Saviour and the Catholic Church while not unique and alone … certainly His agent.
St Barnabe Apotre
Acts of the Apostles 11,21-26, 13 1-3
Psalm 97 Dieu revele sa victoire a toutes les nations
Matthew 10, 7-13
Psalm 77 Acts 8, 14-17
In my room at the convent Ste Marie
Been quite a day … quite a 2 days … my butt still hurts … I can almost sit on it tonight though … suppose that is a good sign.
Sometimes it seems it is the small events and experiences that are so intriguing … so full of mystery. While we are attentive for the ‘big’ events of our lives … perhaps we are often too busy to notice the ‘small’ events. Today seemed to be a day where I was more aware of the ‘small’ stuff.
First to complete my reflections on the readings from the previous night … these are the thoughts /reflections that passed through my mind today … not my convictions. The story of Jacob and Essau and Isaac’s blessing.
As mentioned earlier, seems to be yet another symbolic example of the existence of 2 ‘collective wills’. The story of Isaac’s blessing … conferred on Jacob versus Essau is also apparently filled with mystery. The mystery from a Jewish perspective (December 1998) and the mystery from a Catholic perspective St Louis de Montfort. Both writers eloquently illustrate the ‘hidden mystery’ in the event … who knows what we are really suppose to learn from it??
Also spent some time reflecting on the excerpt from St Paul’s letter to the Corinthians … reminds me of my visit to Corinth and Ephesis. Have been slightly uncomfortable with all the press St Paul receives … both Catholic and non-Catholic Christians …
How he signs the letters Like cake … sweet and yummy not necessar-ily good for you.
Not to take anything away from St Paul’s work to evangelize Christ … yet … Paul is Paul and Jesus is Jesus and Jesus spent 3 years teaching His disciples. John is the only apostle who died a natural death … at an old age and is believed to be the apostle referred to as the ‘beloved’.
Surprising that we don’t focus more on St John’s writings … suppose it is all part of the mystery of the Dive Plan for our salvation.
Reminded today of the experience in Salablanca … I think … the large city where I found my way to the recommended hostel. Remember I was pretty excited … also excited because I would be spending the night on St Paul street … nope! … hostel booked solid … no space available.
Moved from excitement to anxiety in a hurry … how was I to find a place to stay in this huge city … some place cheap!
Walked on … down the street … I think around the corner and my eyes caught a sign that looked interesting … don’t know exactly why … but I looked for the name of the street … don’t usually do this … don’t usually care
The street was named Jesus Street … picked up my spirits … I was back to being excited … thinking to myself … St Paul Street is OK but I am wanted on Jesus Street … hmmm
The place turned out to be wonderful and a real bonus … the lady whose name I believe was Fatima … sure sounded like Fatima when her husband called her by name.
She offered to do my laundry … for a small fee of course … who cares about the fee! … someone will clean all of my dirty … sweaty clothes … WOW!!
Bread and wine … the celebration of the Eucharist … the cornerstone of the Catholic Church … Mme Verguy … je trouve ca un peu carni-val … je m’excuse mais c’est comme je le vois … Yikes!
Wonder how many people feel the same way? I think about how much participation in ‘communion’ … the Eucharist has changed since I was a child. As an altar boy I used to hold the l;arge brass plate like thing under peoples’ chins as they knelt at the altar railing for communion.
Today we receive it in our hands from Eucharistic ministers as well as priests … ???
Also seems amazing how little Impact participating in Eucharist seems to have on people … manifested in the parking lot after church as everyone … no not everyone … but many, many scramble to exit the parking lot first … hmmmm … again I suppose part of the mystery of the plan for our salvation
Some small events of today … entering town looking for a bar … keen on visiting the bar called “Richard the Lion Heart” … nope! …closed … look and look … pass an open bar when I see the sign “ Bar Lawrence of Arabia” … seeing the name of the place was enough to decide to go in. The friendly young lady inside … her knowledge of the Chateau … Richard the Lion Heart and even more surprising her knowledge of Lawrence of Arabia and his visit to this particular village and stay at this particular place … which was a hotel at the time.
Richard the Bruce … gave me money in Split … all children are a blessing
Ash … swastika is Hindu originally
The music when I was about to pay … asked her if it was Arabic … nope … it’s Indian. Amazing how Indian Arabic and Greek music have some very similar sounds … to my ears anyway!
So who passed on what to whom?? Or did all these divergent cultures create a similar sound on their own???
Bought a package of cookies … turned out to be St Michael’s stamped cookie … defeating Lucifer.
Finished writing at the bar … put my book and pen away and got up to pay. The lady wasn’t around … walked to the doorway to look around while waiting for the lady to return … and there is Marie Helene walking up the street 20-30 metres away.
She seemed happy to see me … explained that her and Francoise imagined the worst (from my dog bite) and she was happy to see that and I was OK. Her comment that if she had not separated temporarily from Francoise and taken a slightly different route we would not have met … at least not at this particular time
Bought a package of cookies … turned out to be St Michael stamped cookies defeating Lucifer.
Smoked my last cigarette in the bar … asked if they sold cigarettes … nope … asked about a tobacco shop … nope … closed for siesta … a bar that sells cigarettes … nope … closed today … Yikes!! Know that I had a spare pack in my backpack … found them in the morning … had forgotten that I put them there.
Francoise comment in the church “Tombe de Ciel”… the sausage being bad … my comment to Francoise today … “Pas tous qui tombe de ciel est bonne”. Getting lost several times after the bar … losing my guide … thinking I lost it … found it in my backpack … walked an extra kilometer for nothing.
Getting lost even after I recovered my guide … finding my location at the road sign la passage … meeting Francoise and Marie-Helene when I make my way back to the camino … and I am coming to this point from a different direction.
Lawrence of Arabia Bar and Henry Ford … oil appetite … couldn’t remember the name ‘Henry’
The room I was given was called St Francis of Assisi room! … they name the rooms at this former convent … statue of St Francis beside my bed. The retired priest at Limoges saying to me … you are on the Chemin Assisi … when I am sure he intended to say Chemin St Jacques … hmmm … seems this past 9 years so much has happened after I visited Assisi(wanted by Interpol) and read a book on the life of St Francis … hmmm. Apparently one of his visions was something to the effect … Rebuild my Church … and he never did become a priest or write a constitution for his followers.
This convent is an Augustine one … yikes … he is getting closer … sat in the dining room before supper … looking at a statue of him. Father Patrick is an Augustinian … first I have met I believe. Statue of St Pio … was thinking of him today or yesterday … visit to San Giovanni de Rotundo with Kevin and Mike.
Ste Gracieuse “Our Lady Mystic Rose’ … celebrate mass the 13th of each month.
‘N ‘
The small events of our lives … those experiences that pass almost unnoticed … sitting on a fast moving train … looking out the window … and all is a ‘blur’ … cannot distinguish one thing from another … before our eyes can focus on one ‘spot’ … the train has moved on … and the ‘target’ of our eyes has passed … never to be seen clearly … ‘life is useless’ … it’s like chasing the wind.
Did Plato try to say the same thing … “Centuries before John com-posed his Gospel, the Greek philosopher Plato became well-known because of his unique explanation of our human condition. In his view of the world, we’re slaves chained together facing the rear wall of a cave, unable to turn around and look at what’s going on at the entrance behind us. All we know of reality are the shadows of objects which pass by the mouth of the cave, projected on the wall. One of the goals of Plato’s philosophy is to help us break our chains, turn around and experience things as they really are, to discover the “true” in life”
Warm reception in the morning at the ancient convent … Marie and her daughter … big bowl of coffee … bread … butter and jam … perfect!
On to Coquille just as I am leaving the village I spot a pilgrim 50-75 metres away … can’t be sure who it is … think maybe it’s Francoise or Marie-Helene … yup … I would catch up with them 3-4 kilometres later. The small events … why did I walk so fast for the last 7 kilome-tres yesterday… after seeing the time in the bar in ‘ ‘ 4:30 PM – reminded of Martial’s comments … nuns in convents have strict rules … must arrive before 6:00 PM
I thought … seems I really wanted to stay at the convent … at the time I didn’t know why … think I got a small hernia from the fast walking … up hill … through swampy trails … yikes! … why?
I arrive at the convent … older looking building … the gate is locked … press the door bell … nada! … press it again … nada … Oh! Oh! All that for nothing! Looked down the street … a lady was getting something out of her vehicle. She indicated (international body lan-guage) that the entrance was further down the street … encouraged … I move on down the road … yup … an entrance … gate is open … yippee!!
Still no sign of life … some cars parked … yet another locked door. Take off my backpack … look around … spot a lady watering the flowers … Marie … wonderful lady … such an inviting and warm reception
So why am I writing about this now and not with the notes I wrote in my room the night I spent in the convent?? … because of what Fran-coise and Marie-Helene shared with me when I met them on the camino … they too arrived at the convent … they too found all the doors locked … they assumed nobody was home or it was too late … hmmmm
They also shared with me that they intentionally decided to take more risk this particular day … not telephone ahead and make reservations and ‘voila’ … no place to sleep.
They walked the additional 2 kilometres to Coquille … went to the local hotel and were refused at the hotel because they hadn’t called ahead to let them know they were coming … what? … sounds so strange! Doesn’t pay to take risks eh!
Francoise and Marie-Helene asking me about Paolo Coehelo books … the dog in the book about the camino …. His last book not available in Canada
On with their story … they went tot the local pharmacy in Coquille … Marie-Helene had been suffering for a long ways with blisters … Marie-Helene told me about how she was sitting on a chair in the pharmacy … feeling and looking pooped! … completely pooped!!
The pharmacist must be a compassionate man … he arranged to have them driven to the local camp area and they spent the night in a camp chalet … apparently quite comfortably … so go figure … maybe taking risks and being patient is OK after all! … who knows!!
Seems I was destined to spend the night alone in the convent … without any distractions??
Hallway with all the statues 3 chapels
The Zen temple almost next door to the convent … me sharing the story of St Francis … my night with the bowl of soup … Marie-Helene saying Buddha had a similar experience. Just after finishing the story of the bowl of soup the cat meowing in the forest … we stop … this young … awfully skinny cat comes up to us … we give it a piece of croissant … Francoise a piece of cheese … seems the cat is as needy for affection as it is for food … Marie-Helene’s comment … usually cats … when they notice us pilgrims … run away in a hurry … to safety … to their comfort zone … this particular experience with this cat is so different … I comment to Francoise and Marie-Helene … like the experience I had with the bowl of soup … we were given the opportunity (privilege) of helping a fellow ‘being’ who is hungry and lonely … ???
We would separate again shortly after and I woulod not see Francoise and Marie-Helene until … while writing
On arrival in Thives … email available … go to the office of tourism to enquire about refuge … must go to the camp area 1.5 kilometres … enquire about availability for Francoise and Marie-Helene in case they show up … gentleman says yes … in some chalet.
Francoise looks in the bar and notices me … they don’t stop
Buy a bottle of milk and a box of cereal … Fruit and Fibre … all that I am in the mood for. Make my way to the campsite … 10 Euros for the night … the young man asks me if it is OK with me to stay in a chalet with another pilgrim who is already there … I agree … he goes on to say he can give me a separate chalet all to myself … I ask if the price is the same … yes … OK … how nice … I wasn’t really in the mood for socializing sems my body needed time to rest and heal … I would eat a bowl of cereal and go lay down … about 6:00PM woke up around 10:00PM … it was getting dark … another small bowl of cereal and back to bed.
At this point so so grateful I had the place to myself. While there were 3 small bedrooms … the place was small and it seemed to me I would not have as relaxed with any company. Woke up around day break … got up around 7:30 AM … still tired … but better.
Izmir Kabob Turkey??? Another story
Feelings are melancholy … why? … should I quit walking … go home? … here we go again!!
Back into the village for my morning coffee …. End up at the same bar as the night before … across from the church. The small events and experiences … another reminder at this bar. Buy my large coffee … a few sips later I have the feeling it’s time to go to the washroom … I remember my experience here the night before … while drinking my coffee the night before I had to go pee too … went to the back of the bar … saw a door that had a sign ‘toilette’ opened the door … another small open area … another door marked ‘toilette’ … go to open the door and find it locked. Assume it is occupied Back to my table … a few minutes later … same routine … same result!!
Seems this particular toilette is a busy place! I think it occurred to me that I may have to ask for the key … didn’t pursue this notion … hang on to my ‘pee’ until later.
All of this is going through my mind before I head to the toilet this morning. As I approach the door at the back of the bar … I see a sign ‘ask for the key to the toilet at the bar’!!!
Now why didn’t I see this last night … I walked through the same door twice and didn’t notice the sign ‘ask for the key … ‘ what a dumb dumb!!
On reflection while walking this morning I think to myself how so often all we need is right there in front of us and we don’t see it … how is this? As Augustine would write … “How is this monstrosity??”
Also reflected on … we must ask for the key to wisdom … “knock and the door will be opened”
As I was leaving another man was going through the same door … he too hadn’t noticed the sign … see I am not the only one!!
He turned towards me and I offered him the key. See … knock and the door will be opened … and … when the door is open for me(for each of us) … we must offer the ‘key’ … the wisdom to those we encounter … hmmm!
Spirits lifted I walk on … another meditation arrives … those mo-ments when thoughts enter our consciousness from ??? … the thought that we wear our ‘state of being’ like we wear our clothes … some-times clothed in drab or dull clothes … sometimes in colorful and bright clothing.
Occurred to me at this particular moment how our ‘state of being’ lights up when we see someone we know … someone we like … someone we love … wow … this seems like a new revelation … you see it on the faces of the people involved … no need for language or expression to confirm … although language and expression for follows the ‘alighting’ of the state of being
Seems to confirm our joy at the times of confirmation that we are not alone … that we belong … that we are OK … that we love and are loved.
All so natural … why are these ‘feelings’ absent when we are alone … even in a crowd we feel alone eg the people at the train station … the absence of the ‘state of cheerfulness’ … why is this so??
Thivier Hotel France et Russie??
The dogs … a small dog and a german shepherd … not as big as the one the other day … yet threatening enough … they are loose … come after me … barking … threatening … Yikes! … double Yikes!! What now??
I hold up my stick and say rather loudly … ‘sun al ou alle cum’ … why Arabic to these dogs who obviously only understand French … no idea … did this a few times … seemed to work!!
After passing the house … I hear a lady calling after them … why did she wait so long? … allow them to frighten me so much … why? … why??
The deer with her fawn running across the road in front of me. The cat being hit by a car … fur flying … oh no! … the cat jumps over the fence anyway … must be pure adrenalin I think to myself … cat must be seriously injured … feel sick to my stomach with this experience.
The 3 turkeys … so loud … so much noise from 3 turkeys … just after the chickens and ducks minding their own business … no squawk-ing!!?? The hen with the 2 chicks … chicks are yellow … notice they have web feet … seems strange … do all young chicks have web feet? … did the chicken adopt the chicks from their duck mother? … did the chicken mate with the duck? … strange thoughts???
The gentleman who has been in the bar since I arrived … just comes up to me and congratulates me on the fact that I am writing … if he only knew what I was writing???
Time to go!
So much for my relaxing 5 kilometre walk. Today is only 17 kilome-tres and I had 12 in when I wrote the above comments. I would be confronted by 2 large unfriendly dogs … again!! … and one of them an oversized German Shepherd … Yikes!!
More later … first my reflections.
I would meet Francoise and Marie-Helene again … they stopped along the road for their lunch break … exchange a few sentences … and off I go. I take with me one of the questions raised …”Why do we work so much and so hard?” Marie-Helene asked.
Francoise and Marie-Helene will have to go home on Sunday … today is Friday.
They are lamenting about having to stop their walk … even with sore … very sore feet … filled with blisters … both of them … they regret they have to stop. Francoise has to go back to work … Marie-Helene is retired.
So I take this question “Why do we work so hard and so much … most of us way beyond providing for the basic necessities(needs not wants) of life for ourselves and our children.
Seems my mind puts this question alongside the experience watching the hen and the 2 chicks with the web feet.
My memory drags out an experience of several years ago … I attended a meeting of the executive etc of Waterloo Maple Software… Dieter also attended … maybe one of the first meetings with exposure to Dieter. Dieter decided to explain the ‘role’ of marketing in business … all businesses … he used a story to make his point … something to the effect … suppose one has a bunch of chickens one wants to sell. The marketplace is flat for chickens … the marketplace wants ‘ducks’.
The challenge seems to be how do we convince the ‘buyers’ … the marketplace … that our chickens are in fact ducks … voila … take a hammer and pound their feet until their feet look like ‘web’ feet!! Et voila you have a ‘duck’.
The story was well received … manifested by the laughter all around … can’t remember if I laughed heartily or not. At the time I thought it was a cute and somewhat effective way of explaining the purpose and benefit of effective marketing.
Today I have a much different perspective … Oh! … what 2 little chicks with web feet can do to my mind! … my imagination!
Today the principle of the story remains the same … how to sell? … and particularly how to sell something people do not want … eg people did not want a chicken with their feet pounded flat … they wanted a duck.
Today the chicken symbolizes ‘truth’ … people want ‘truth’ … they are willing to ay for truth … with money or otherwise.
Truth doesn’t sell … one cannot get rich selling truth … one can get rich selling deception eg snake oil salesman.
We have been sold deception for such a long long time … why this monstrosity??
How many people today live with high levels of stress (which over time diminishes the capability of our immune system … in turn leads to other ailments) because of debt … the mortgage .. the car loan … the credit card debt etcetc
Most of this debt incurred for stuff we don’t really need. Truth doesn’t sell … deception does. As long as I walk this meditation feels good … seems relevant etc
My mind is off busy pulling together the above thoughts and I hear a bark … lots of barking. The camino at this point splits a farm … the cows and the barn on one side … farm buildings on the other … the road in between.
One of the barking dogs is the over grown German Shepherd … my butt still hurts … the memory is still fresh … reinforced with the encounter earlier today. I’m not talking any chances … I quickly scan the entire area looking for safety, protection etc. Whew! … there is a tractor on my left … the driver doesn’t notice me … I approach the tractor … he acknowledges me … I point my stick at the dogs and I suppose the look on my face does the rest.
He stops the tractor, gets out and assures me the dogs won’t bother me … I’m not convinced.
Right about now the big one approaches me … barking menacingly. He starts to go behind me …yikes!... been here before!! … this is what happened the other day when I got bitten in the ass.
I quickly turn around … the bark is more aggressive … the big one is showing off his teeth … Yikes! … double yikes! … and the second dog … no little chiwawa! … a fair sized dog is barking at me too!
The gentleman who got off the tractor had a look on his face that said … Oh! Oh! … this could be trouble … seems my gentle harmless dog really doesn’t like this guy!!
He grabs the dog’s collar … speaks to him and holds on to him. Whew! … that was close … too close!!
As I get about 10 to 20 metres away … the other dog comes running at me … barking aggressively … yikes!! I’m not out of this one yet.
I hear the gentleman who is holding the shepherd scream some orders … I turn around to confirm he is still holding the German Shepherd … yup … thank goodness.
I gingerly keep walking … slowly and I make it safely beyond the farm and the dogs … whew!! … what was this all about? Did the dogs know what I was thinking about and my intentions to write about my thoughts?? Sometimes I wonder … and Dieter … I believe had a large German Shepherd dog … hmmm
To exacerbate this line of thinking I was reminded that 2 pilgrims … whom I had seen a couple of days ago … had walked through this same area less than 5 minutes before … I saw them for the past hour ... always about 50 metres ahead of me … and I didn’t even hear the dogs … why did the dogs not go after them??
Noticed the web feet … couldn’t see the sign on the door.
Visit the church on arrival … first to say thank you for not letting me get bitten on the ass again! … and secondly … to ask … what is going on here??? … no answer.
At least not in humanly audible terms … second reminder of Fatima today … at the church … saw a small statue of Our Lady of Fatima yesterday in the ‘Th ‘ Today a calendar dedicated to Our Lady of Fatima … some written stuff too … talks a bit about the 3rd secret … the implication of Russia couldn’t understand it all … enough though to send me back to my own strong persistent experiences with the apparitions in Fatima
Greta refuge … Marie-Helene and Francoise show up … we plan to eat supper together. Gosh how I hope there are no aggressive dogs in my path ahead.
Data includes June 26, 2000 day I left Lourdes
Truffe … underground mushroom
Chat with Krista … difference between needs and wants … fine line … need to feel like we belong … collective will … therefore want becomes need etc … see Augustine’s comments
Back again … been a couple of days. Enjoyed a nice meal with Marie-Helene and Francoise … pasta with a can of ravioli mixed in … hot and delicious … cheese, pear and chocolate bar too! … Yummy … these hot meals are a real treat.
Coffee at the refuge in the morning … not hungry … say “a plus tarde” to Francoise and Marie-Helene … expecting to see them somewhere along the way to Perigon … there is a restaurant at the 12 kilometre mark … nope … would not see them again. The restaurant at the 12 kilometre mark did not open until 12:00 noon … I arrived at 11:00 AM … Yikes! … all the way with no breaky or 2nd coffee … yuk! 24 kilometres.
Coffee at 21 kilometres … and 2 croissants … yummy. Stop at Maison Diocesane … seems my timing is OK again … office closed at 12:00 PM but the lady who works in the office is there because of some special event … hmmm. I almost don’t stay … el cheapo me … it was 17 Euros for the room, 8 Euros for supper and 3 Euros for breakfast.
While moaning to myself about the prices a feeling of ‘guilt’ slips in … this lady has gone to all the trouble of trying to accommodate me … best I stay. I take the room and pass on the meals … probably should have taken the meals too … wouldn’t eat for another 24 hours or so … except coffee, the fruit the priest gave me and 2 croissants … not bad eh … got me the 24 kilometres to St Astier
Went to mass at 6:00 PM in the small chapel … 5 priests … the youngest around 80 years old it seemed. A colleague (priest) had died very recently … the priest who said the mass noted the empty chair in the front row … he had to hold back tears when he was mentioning the deceased during the mass.
Book small Fatima with children
Started to rain a bit … just enough to keep me in my room …??? Decided to read John’s Gospel …”they will all hate me because I tell them their ways are all wrong” Joe’s email … also spend some time reflecting on how St Paul encouraged the early Christians to set aside the Law of Moses and embrace Christ as Messiah and Redeemer.
And how today seems the Catechism has replaced the Book of the Law(Moses) and not much has changed … subscribe to rituals and ‘laws’ … hearts as cold as stone … not all people.
As Joe said in his email about himself …”I am going around in circles” … seems mankind is going around in circles too … from a spiritual perspective anyway!
Good sleep … very good sleep … very aware of the absolute silence in the early hours of the morning … quite appealing. Wake up somewhat distressed … discouraged … why keep going?? … this feeling lasted most of the day … a bit sad that Marie-Helene and Francoise have gone home … maybe this has something to do with my feelings.
Decide to take a very easy day … walk 8 kilometres to an Augustinian convent or monastery … lodging is available according to the guide book. I go to the Cathedral … just miss 9:00AM mass … visit for a few minutes … trying to deal with my doubt and uncertainty … perhaps in some way looking for clues that I should keep going.
Coquille ashtray at coffee stop.
A gentleman approaches me … St Jacques Compostel? … oui … mois 1999 … will you go all the way? … don’t know … day by day.
When I go to retrieve my backpack at the back of the church ,I notice that a light is shining on it … look for the source of the light … the sun is shining through a window …. Way up … way up near the top on the right hand side of the altar…. Hmmmn … a sign??
Look for internet place… think about sharing my thought a Book of the Law with Joe . It”s closed….. walk on.
Arrive at ‘ ‘ talk to priest about lodging… nope…. An error in the guide…. Figures …. I stay at a place I didn’t know was Augustinian … this one I know is and can’t stay??? … thought this might happen as I was walking here!
Feast of the Profession of Faith … today would be mine too.
The priest is very kind … he gives me a bottle of mineral water a banana an orange and two tomatoes. The banana and orange were great! Oh well! … now I have to walk another 16 kilometres today and there is no refuge in St Astier … in some way I find this exciting … don’t know where I will sleep … maybe under the stars!! … hope it doesn’t rain … lots of clouds looks and feels like it could rain … in fact it did drizzle in the afternoon.
Off and on today my mind kept going back to the priests’ comments in Limoges … at one point he asked me if I was doing the Camino Assisi ?? … St Francis …??
At another point when he was lamenting about the empty seminary … he said … since the War of Therese …??? Got me thinking so much has happened since Ste Therese died … a phenomenal century … 2 world wars … automobile etc etc hmmmmm
Happy to find the bar open in ‘ ‘ coffee and 2 croissants … large coffee!! Yummy!!
Should be OK now for the remaining 7 or 8 kilometres. Walking along I stop to look at an old mill … some people walking about a gentleman asks me if I would like something to drink … on this camino I am more inclined to accept these kind offers … I accept.
Interesting mill … vintage 1300’s out of operation since 1966 … very nice people. A lady Mrs Boutin offers me a place to sleep … wow!! What a pleasant surprise. The next 3 kilometres go pretty easy as I reflect on this most recent blessing … I learn that today is the Feast of the Moulins … a day to celebrate the mills of the past . I remember Ste Bernadette … her dad operated a mill … of course I made a connec-tion … who knows?? … the thought is very pleasant and quite mov-ing.
Mussidan
Just arrived 20 minutes ago. Stopped at the church … the first one that was opened since I left this morning. Had the feeling along the way that I should spend some time in a church … don’t know why … doesn’t happen often.
Only in the church a few minutes and mother nature calls … I have to pee. I apologize that I have to leave and say to myself … Ill come back.
Stopped at the first bar , put my backpack down and realized that I didn’t have my guide sheet … must have left it at the church … smiled to myself … seems just in case I would change my mind … He had me forget my guide sheet … pretty much ensuring that I would come back to the church! … hmmm! … sometimes He has such a gentle sense of humour. I’m sure I would not have come right back if I hadn’t forgot-ten my guide sheet … would have went on to the refuge.
Learned at the church that July 16th is the Feast of Our Lady of Carmel … the date of my return flight.
OK … I’m back and I am writing … my 3 lady friends are here too! … they all have happy faces … Joan of Arc a bit more serious look though !
Mr and Mrs Boutin … Nadine and jean Marie were wonderful!! … I was a bit timid about staying with them … my nature I suppose. They made me feel so welcome … Nadine insisted that I think of it as home. She cooked a wonderful supper … barbecue steak … yummy. She gave me some special oil for my feet … some organic stuff.
Nadine is very knowledgeable and serious about bodily health. They had recently been to Egypt … we chatted a bit about the virtual disappearance of an advanced society with superior knowledge … manifested by the construction and alignment of the pyramids … a mystery??
Nadine and Jean Marie hope to walk the Chemin St Jacques some day … for the moment Nadine is working … Jean Marie is retired from Bata Shoes … a familiar name.
Nadine left early in the morning for work … Jean Marie had a wonder-ful breakfast prepared when I got up … had a coffee and a piece of cake and hit the road.
A somewhat difficult walk today despite being recharged … physi-cally and spiritually with the unexpected generosity and hospitality of Nadine and Jean Marie.
Will go to the refuge soon … get some rest … maybe buy some grub for supper later.
Bitten in the ass again … figuratively … hopefully this wound will heal more quickly!
Very nice refuge … nice people … certainly would not have gone back to the church … the refuge is 1.5 kilometres away.
Went to buy some stuff foe supper and for the road tomorrow … bought too much! … should never go to the store hungry … when will I learn this lesson.
The bite came on the way out of the store … asked again about inter-net access … turns out there was a kiosk near the store … first I lost my one Euro … didn’t read the instructions before I put my money in … just like me! … fools rush in … 2nd attempt it worked … very awkward to operate … all touch screen.
Bugged that I keep wanting to check my email and than nothing but disappointment(usually) when I do check. Today to boot I lost another 10 Euros at the store … Yuk … I am so disappointed … almost angry with myself for being so concerned about $$ … if I am not so con-cerned why not just go home!!
Quite a downer … seems my spirits were lifted this afternoon with the experience at the church and now in the tank! Why up and down so fast??? I will go for another coffee ‘to lick my wounds’ … see what tomorrow brings.
Phillip et Francoise Persohn
Lubata _33430_Sauviac
Back again … been several days … perhaps almost a week since I have written anything … don’t know why the tongue of my pen dried up! Perhaps the experiences noted above … the email from Joe … Natalie … who knows? … who cares?? I will write what my memory brings to mind … no notes!
Quiet night at the private refuge in Mussidan … Claire and Eves and their son … didn’t connect for any conversation. Claire brought me 2 crepes in the evening … saved them for the road the next day … they were delicious
Arrived in Port Ste Foy … another private refuge … in the back yard … a separate building … very comfortable. Nobody home when I arrived. M showed up about an hour later … whew!!
Learned in the church about being the Feast of St John the Baptist before arriving at ADP
Refuge above the Office du Tourism in Pellegrue … checked my email … only email was from Natalie
Arrived in La Reole … went to the first bar ‘Gypsy’. No refuge in this town … felt a bit uneasy about ADP … went to Office du Tourism … even though man at the bar told me it would likely be closed … it was still open … very kind lady … offered to call Michel Moreau … he was home and agreed to put me up … despite my late arrival without notice … I understand much better now why ADP families prefer notice … they provide supper as well … what at treat!
Michel and Odette were so kind … so accommodating. Odette did my laundry … Michel called for lodging for the next night in Bazas … without asking! Michel suggested I pass by the Abbaye du Rivet … he draws a map of the route … tells me about the priest from Canada staying at the Abbaye.
Need to check to see if I went to Monsegur before La Reole. Just before arriving at St Ferme … the Abbaye I was told I should visit … there was a road to the right with a camino sign indicating I should turn right here. I looked ahead at the Abbaye … about 100 metres down the road … checked my ‘feelings’ to see if I should visit … nope … down the road.
A few kilometres later I am lost … seriously lost. Can’t find where I am on the map … not real interested in going back … remember now why there was no way I was going back. Just after I made the turn mentioned above … 2 nasty dogs came after me.
Fortunately their owners were in the fields trimming the grape vines and called them off!! A few minutes later it started to rain … I thought to myself … the dogs will still be outside and the owners will be in the house and unable to protect me! … no way I’m going back to face those dogs! Walked on … eventually decide I have to ask somebody. Talked to a young man in a car who stopped at the intersection … he couldn’t tell me where I was on the map but suggested I head for Monswegur … this village is on the map … not on the route … 5 kilometres out of the way … no way!!
I walk up to the farm house up the road … stand at the gate and yell bonjour!. No response … start to walk away … hear the voice of an older lady. Whew! … she did hear me … explained my dilemma to this lady … she stayed on the porch … suggested the same thing the young man at the intersection mentioned. Not great news! … seems I have no choice.
Head back to the intersection resigned to the fact that I have to head towards Monsegur … yuk!
Another car comes along … I wave the S.O.S. sign … he stops … very helpful. He shows me where I am on the map … yikes!! … how did I get so far off the route?
Yup!! … have to walk on to Monsegur and than back track from there to the route. Think to myself, at least I will be able to get a coffee in Monsegur … always a bright side eh!
Arrive in Monsegur … decided to go to the church first … before my coffee … yikes! … what’s going on here!
Pleasant surprises at the church … learn it is the Feast of St John the Baptiste. Also this church has very unusual statues … King David with a harp, Moses directly across from hom with the stone tablets, St Louis de Monfort I presume Ste Anne and St Joachim … Mary’s parents. I really enjoy the visit and wonder to myself about the mysterious way I arrived here.
Psalm 139 Isaih 49,1-6 Acts 13 22-26 Luke 1 57-66
Several times in the morning I remember saying to myself … no way I am going through Monsegur … 5 kilometres out of the way just to get a coffee … and here I am!!
Lost in the ‘wilderness’ on St John the Baptist day … hmmmm!
Leaving Monsegur I see a sign indicating 15 kilometres to La Reole and 4.5 kilometres back to the ‘route’. I take about 2 seconds to consider my options … no way O am walking 4.5 kilometres to the route and than another 15 kilometres to La Reole … not that dedicated to the ‘route’ … decide to take the shortest route … big surprise eh!
June 29, 2004 Mont de Marsen
At Michel and Audette’s about the Cathedral St John the Baptiste in Bazas. Michel showed me his garden … he built a miniature grotto … Our Lady of Lourdes statue … the Pyrenees and several other historic sites. He also built a miniature ‘mock up’ of Jacob’s well … this impressed me the most … he had built a visual and physical connection between Jacob(Israel) and Jesus … the Old Testament and the New Testament.
Seems I am being drawn to know that the 2 are inseparable … Christianity is simply an extension of Judaism … seems to me we have not emphasized this ‘reality’ sufficiently in our teaching of the Catholic faith. Jacob’s well and the 2 interpretations of the blessing of Jacob by Isaac … Louis de Montfort and David???
Michel walked me out of La Reole … to help me find the ‘route’ beyond the city … he is so kind and generous.
I walked rather briskly this day … perhaps again carried on the ‘wings of fantasy’ … somehow I developed high expectations concerning my intended visit to L’Abbeye du Rivet … don’t know why??
Perhaps the Canadian priest Father Emanuel … the name Emanuel conjured up memories … the meaning of the word Emanuel … God is with us … the name to be given to Mary’s child … Jesus!
The name in Sandra’s dream … she was to name her child Emanuel. This feeling of something exciting is going to happen continued to build along the way … about 15 kilometres from La Reole.
The gentleman who stopped me to say Bonjour and enquire about my ‘journey’ … he suggested I visit the Abbaye du Rivet … seemed to confirm that I was doing the right thing … going off the beaten path … the prescribed route to visit this Abbaye … seems strange when I write about it
The day before I wouldn’t walk the extra 100 metres to visit the Abbaye at St Ferme … and subsequently got lost and walked several kilometres extra that day … go figure!
Arrived at the Abbaye … on entering the first thing I noticed was a poster of Ste Therese of Lisieux … spotted it from 50+ metres away … Raison de Vivre Lorsque la vie ne tient plus qu’a un fil: Celui de la confiance et de l’amour.
Asked myself … was this why I was excited this morning …
Met Father Pierre Emanuel … from Sherbrook … very gentle and kind man … offered me something to eat which I declined. Asked him about requesting a mass … he referred me to the ‘sisters’
Don’t know why I wanted to have a mass said for my family (Gauthier and Morley) at the Abbaye … first time I have ever done this … have lit a few candles along the way from time to time yet this day I felt a strong urge to request a mass … hmmmm.
Also learned a little history … believe the Abbaye is of the Cistercian Order … St Bernard’s influence dominates this order … St Bernard is mentioned in St Louis de Monfort’s book True Devotion to Mary several times.
Seems he also had a very strong confidence and devotion to the Virgin Mary … apparently experienced one or more apparitions of the Virgin Mary.
Learned that St Bernard’s help was sought for the second Crusade and that he gave his first homily concerning the Crusade on March 31, 1146 in Vezelay … hmmm this little piece of history was uplifting … not that I support the crusades of yesterday … yet … somehow feel I will be starting my own ‘crusade’ soon … not with swords though!!
Once again, nothing remotely close to the fantasies conjured up in my mind on my walk to the Abbaye today happened at the Abbaye … nonetheless the poster of Ste Therese and the info regarding St Ber-nard was pretty exciting.
Tried to call ADP from the internet place 5:55 –no answer- supposed to call a partir de 18:00
Walked the additional 11 kilometres to Bazas … felt strong .. checked email … had coffee … learned of big big festival in Bazas this week and particularly this weekend … this is Friday … Feast of St John the Baptiste
Found the Cathedral … quite impressive … was still sitting in the church when Phillipe arrived. He drove to his house out in the country about 5 kilometres away
First pilgrim to stay with Francoise and Phillipe. Francoise came home shortly after … wonderful supper … and conversation. Great sleep … Phillipe had to wake me up at 8:30 AM … Yikes!!
Phillipe showed me his shop on the way back to town … the chemin goes right by his shop. Phillipe called to get me a copy of the map for today … I had left mine in the grocery store in ‘ ‘ the lady who brought the copy of the map asked me if I had plans for lodging this night … she suggested the ADP a few kilometres past Captieux … and mentioned that the individual required notice … gently reminding me that if I planned to stay there I should call now.
I politely declined … thinking to myself that the past couple of nights were quite enjoyable … even though one was prearranged. I decided I would leave some room for God and the Virgin Mary today … trusting that God would provide according to His will!!
Now that the experience is behind me … next time I may be more receptive to planning ahead!!
The experience ahead … the next 24 hours … will stay with me for a long … long time. Almost seems like I was set up … that what was about to happen was part of the plan for some time now???
The walk to Captieux was OK … even stopped for coffee about half way … “ “ Arrived around 3:00PM … followed the yellow arrows … just outside town the road we were walking on was fenced off … closed.
I thought to myself … this is strange … I am not welcome here! Decided to cut across the field … not a good idea! Found I had to cross a deep ditch … and on this side of the ditch there were plenty of those shrubs with large prickly thorns … yup … got cut up a bit … of course … I would be wearing my shower sandals and not my boots at this point … not very smart!
A few scars on my arms, my knees and my feet and I am across the ditch … whew!! This experience alone should have put me on the defensive!!
After my coffee I went to the church … it was locked up but had a large porch area that provided some relief from the sun … today is hot!! Kind of settled in … thinking to myself I may even spend the night here … nope! … an hour or so later a lady came by and tried to open the church door … she mentioned to me that there would be a wedding at the church at 5:30PM … so much for hanging around here.
Off to the grocery store to buy some grub … spent 13 Euro … yikes … a small package of Italian salami cost 4.3 Euros … would never had bought it if I had known! Now I have to find some shady spot where I can eat. Wander around … heading out of town … find some shade at a local cemetery and a stone bench. While eating I notice some space between the shrubs and the outside wall of the cemetery … seems to be a good spot to rest … maybe spend the night.
Pull out my bedroll and lay down to rest. Half hour or so later some people pull up and park their car on the other side of the shrubs. They go into the cemetery without noticing me(I think) Seems I can’t stay here either … poop!
Back into town … sit on a bench across from the church … still some people standing outside the church from the wedding. Start thinking to myself … maybe I should head out … go for a night walk and when I am tired enough … sleep under the stars …
Go for a coffee and ‘hit the road’. After a few hours walking … mostly along the abandoned railway line … through a forest … I spot a car on the trail a ways ahead … I’m thinking … what a blessing if I can get some water … my bottle is almost empty. As I approach the place where the car is parked I hear children’s voices … super … some water!!
About 20 metres from the house I notice 2 dogs lying on the ground in front of the house … Oh! Oh! … I start to whistle thinking I should not surprise them … I should let them know I am coming … not a good idea!!
The dogs don’t move … as though either they don’t hear me whistling or they could care less. At this very moment several adults come walking from the other side of the house … whew! … I stop and point at the dogs. One of the men makes hand motions to another to close the gate … about the same instant the gate is closed … one of the dogs notices me and goes beserk! … the gentleman who closed the gate says to me … lucky he(the dog) didn’t see you … Yikes! And here I was whistling to let the dogs know I was here. This dog looked vicious … and likely was or they wouldn’t have closed the gate so fast … talk about close … if I had come by here in the dark … Yikes!!
This incident energized me and I walked on rather briskly … seems fear energizes!!
Several kilometres down the trail … deeper into the forest … almost dark … I spot 3 deer … look like deer anyway … grazing in this open field. The fields look great for sleeping … I am thinking I will stop for the night. Walk about …
July 8, 2004
Been a while … not that nothing worth writing about … just not in the mood. Why today? Why now? … don’t know … who cares!
Philosophical thoughts only today …
The human species conquered ‘hunger’ and ‘security’ a long, long time ago, likely with the development of community … tribe … clan. Two heads are better than one … 4 hands can do more than 2. They developed agriculture and food storage … therefore the fear of hunger overcome. They built or occupied ‘safe shelters’ … caves … fortresses … therefore fear of the unknown … or simply … secure shelter.
Both of these efforts were likely driven by motivation for survival … innate animal instinct. First instance of collective will.
Somewhere along the way they also developed the notion of ‘owner-ship’ … the doctrine of ‘private property’. This notion of ownership was extended beyond the material world … land … possessions etc … to mate, cultures, religion, belief system.
All these dimensions built into a state of ‘ownership’ … socially programmed into the members of the community, tribe … clan … the ‘collective will’
Hierarchy also became an element of ‘ownership’.
So now the instinct of ‘survival’ was extended to the more global sense … man must not only survive as a person … all elements of the community must also survive … religion etc … must be kept socially programmed into new members and defended. For example, the 12 tribes of Israel … citizenship … membership was by blood only … all others were ‘gentiles’ … outsiders ... not welcome.
The Roman Empire found they could make money selling ‘citizen-ship’. Seems evident that the notion of ‘ownership’ and the doctrine of private property … including intellectual property … the thoughts from our minds have done much for the advancement of mankind and civilization.
The question that begs to be asked is …”At what price?” … where is this taking us as a species.
Historically it seems that regional civilizations … eg Egypt, Roman, Greek advanced to a certain point and than crashed.
Today seems we are moving towards a ‘global civilization’ … where cultures around the world have adopted … willingly … or by force … the ‘western way’.
One could argue that the next ‘peak’ of a civilization … will occur at a global level … and consequently the ‘crash’ will likewise be global???
One can see the consequences of an ‘oil shortage’ … what will happen when there is a water shortage … eg will Canada be able to maintain its’ sovereignty … its’ ownership of an identity … of course not!
Seems the only plausible alternative is to destroy, cancel, wipe out the notion of ownership … doctrine of personal property. In my view, this is … the basic message of Jesus of Nazareth …’love your neighbor’ … love your enemy.
Seems to me as long as the notion of ownership and personal property exists … this dimension of civilization will keep us in the same mental attitude as the ‘stone age man’. We will not evolve/transform.
Raises the basic question … if mankind is unable to do this voluntarily … will it be imposed … Sodom and Gomorrah!!
How to grow a ‘collective will’ to make this happen?? Seems count-less efforts in so many geographies and over so many years … especially the last 2,000 have failed.
Lord, please help!! Elijah … how long will you people continue to limp along on two opinions??
Ste Marie de Eunate
The owner of the albergue in ‘ ‘ suggested I visit this church … she gave me instructions on how to get here before … perhaps in 2000 and 2002.
Pamplona … Fiesta de San Fermin … what a delightful and colorful example of ‘collective will’ … the perpetuation of an ‘identity’ … a ‘belonging’ … that part of our being beyond our physical self.. The celebration, the citizenship manifested by the clothing … white pants T shirt and red scarf and or red belt around the waist.
The notion of ‘ownership’ seems to apply … the peoples own their identity … their culture … their celebrations beliefs etc … and these same peoples feel compelled to defend their ownership … ensure survival for the next generation.
This natural inclination to survive seems to provide the ‘will’ to defend at all costs … even at the price of war … eg the Basque terror-ism. Seems to me the same phenomenon is at work in all ‘collective wills’ … tribes … clans … peoples eg the North American Native Indian … the song Cherokee Nation … we will return! The Jewish peoples etc etc
Seems to me this phenomenon is also a barrier to the evolution of mankind … there can be no true ‘brotherly love’ … love of neighbor … tolerance.
Fyodor Dostoyevsky The Brothers Karmazov express in but three human phrases, the entire future history of the world and mankind …
Those three questions that were actually put to you that day by the mighty and clever Spirit in the wilderness?
For it is as if in those three questions there is conjoined into a single whole and prophesied the entire subsequent history of mankind…
Look you see those stones in that naked burning hot wilderness? Turn them into loaves and mankind will go trotting after you like a flock, grateful and obedient , though ever fearful that you may take away your hand and that your loaves may cease to come their way.
At last they themselves will understand that freedom and earthly bread is sufficiency for all are unthinkable together, for never, never will they be able to share between themselves.
Had you accepted the loaves you would have responded to the universal and age old anguish of man, both as an individual creature and as the whole of mankind namely the question … “Before whom should I bow down?”
It is this need for a community of bowing down that has been the principal torment of each individual person and of mankind as a whole since the earliest ages. For the sake of a universal bowing down they have destroyed one another with the sword …”give bread and man will bow down, for nothing is more undisputed than bread”
The appetite of the eyes can never be satisfied … give them bread … money, material goods status derived from the possession of goods money etc, companionship, friendship, sex etc etc … who has not bowed down … compromised their peace of mind for some bread or the promise of some bread in whatever form it takes.
Road to Estella … Casa Julio
What a change from last night … from discouraged … tired …sad … lonely etc to once again a feeling of being energized … new thoughts … new acquaintances etc … gift at Albergue … Templar Cross … Franciscan Cross (Pau … Tau)
Met Allison from Australia … she mentioned parable of the sower … I had been meditating on this same parable a few minutes earlier
Met Decklyn at Casa Julio … he was just leaving … shared the inspiration he left me with the other day … his response to my sheep philosophy … bring me to food … security etc … I’ll follow … no problem
This comment came up alongside the sentence in Dostoyevsky words … “ give man bread and he will bow down to you.”
Another instance of bread … the cult of romantic love … proven to be a deception given the success rate for marriage eg in North America
Allison’s comments re sheep … from someone who studied sheep … sheep are afraid of change … bring sheep who have been grazing in a certain pasture for a long time to a new pasture and they may starve to death … pasture smells different … perceived fear!
My thoughts this morning … transformation knows no geography, race, color, creed or religion etc … it happens on an individual basis. The process is usually long, difficult and painful … like childbirth … labor can be long … analogy of main stream society on a fast moving train … born on the train … life is short … passes quickly … die on the train … some during their voyage on the train look out the window … all is a blur … by the time you try to focus your eyes on something in particular …. It’s gone … train has moved on.
The process of transformation starts when one is thrown off the train … the train does not make any stops and invite passengers to get off if they like … quite the opposite … seems much effort is expended to keep people on the train and keep them looking out the window or from wanting to jump off … perceived fear … fear of the unknown … fear of change … fear of life outside the comfort zone.
After being thrown off the train … the parable of the sower kicks in … some land on rocky ground and the birds eat the seed … some start to awaken and the weeds (anxieties, worries, loneliness etc) choke them
Augustine’s comments … like waking up from a deep sleep … a comfortable sleep … one knows one should get up and get at whatever needs doing … yet we roll over in bed and say to ourselves … only a few more minutes etc … make me chaste but not just yet …
St Francis … many say he is the most ‘Christ’ like person since the time of Christ … one of his messages to mankind … by his lifestyle … not by his words (actions speak louder than words) … “abandon the notion of ownership … of private property … of private intellectual property … St Francis persistently refused to accept land and buildings as a gift … to use as a shelter (home) for his followers … he persistently refused to write an ‘order’ … a ‘law’ for his followers … he refused to join the church hierarchy etc
After his death … his wishes were not perpetuated … his successors did not have the strength … grace to heed his wishes … they got buildings etc and somewhere along the way wrote a ‘constitution’
Seems to be a rerun of Christ and His apostles … shortly after the death of the apostles … the followers (Christians) fell back on the old way … ownership … law … privilege etc
Allison’s comment … there has always remained a ‘spark’ … some-one to carry the torch … e.g. the Saints … Gandhi etc
Allison’s comment … many people around the world have endured the transformation … they simply have not connected yet to form a ‘collective will’ and help to grow the community and change the direction of ‘mankind’ … hmmm … encouraging words!!
Los Arcos
Platos’ allegory of cave and shadows … we see what we see … each according to his or her uniqueness … both with the senses and with the ‘inner eye’ … our perception is our reality … no more … no less.
Since we seem to be naturally inclined to impose our ‘view’ of life and the cosmos on others … those in authority perpetuate their vision or limited vision … it becomes a ‘collective will’ through social programming … not that it is truth … it’s just the way it has always been. Nonetheless persons are born with different than mainstream vision … eg philosophers and from time to time influence or redirect main-stream programs … eg Socrates Moses Jesus
At the time many of these people are considered insane … naturally because if they are considered sane … by default mainstream society would be insane … a difficult pill to swallow
The ducks and the bread … the memory of Easter Sunday Julia and the money … the feeling that this step is complete … the picture is finished … what to do next??? Need to be patient and wait for the door to open!!
Augustine … serve the creation rather than the Creator(Romans 1:21-5)
Serve (bow down) to the stuff (bread) rather than the Creator(God)
Want more and more stuff … less and less Creator (God)
Believe we can be our own power pile up more stuff … yuk!!!
St Augustine … “I had my back to the light and my face towards the things which are illuminated. So my face, by which I was enabled to see the things lit up, was not illuminated Echo of Plotinus
Faustus “I was not interested in the decoration of the vessel in which his discourse was served up but in the knowledge put before me to eat by this Faustus held in high regard among the Manicheans