Three Soul Journeys for Older Women — Ageless Possibilities

I was rowing along, dipping my paddle into calm waters, when I encountered a strong undercurrent and decided to pull my canoe up on the riverbank. I settled under a graceful weeping willow, branches hanging low, and pulled out my journal. I had set my course earlier in the week, thinking I knew the journey I wanted to take. The turbulent waters gave me pause for reflection.

That is how this week unfolded. The week started with a feeling of restlessness. As Anaïs Nin wrote, things are calling me; the stars are pulling at my hair once again. A friend will be walking her first multi-day solo journey soon, hiking from Langford to Cowichan Lake. A writing colleague is preparing to walk the Coastal Portuguese Camino this spring. I am envious, wanting to follow those yellow arrows again. Both these experiences make me yearn to walk another pilgrimage, short or long, needing to feel the ground solid under my feet as mind, body, and heart become one. Yet I don’t feel comfortable travelling just yet.

Mid-winter is always a difficult time for me. This week my heart feels extra heavy. I am concerned about the signs of a growing uncivil society as the truck convoy rolls into a second week, with little response from police and governments. I shake my head in disbelief about the evacuation of hundreds of animals from Afghanistan to Canada when thousands of people are clambering to leave the country. My heart aches for the parents of a young Moroccan boy who died after being stuck in a thirty-two-foot well for four days. Then on Thursday, the phone rings. I do not answer. My granddaughter is fast asleep in my arms, her warm body filling me with a new, unfamiliar love. Later, I listen to the message. My friend Nancy, calling from North Bay, says, in a hesitant voice, that she will send me an email. I know in an instant that she must be calling about her mother. Mary, the woman I called my other mother for several years, has passed away peacefully, thankfully with family by her side. I am surprised at the deep grief I feel.

I am longwinded with this introduction, but I wanted to give you the backdrop to my thought processes this week. I went from wanting to row for many miles along a calm river, to pulling ashore because of turbulent waters. It dawned on me that a pilgrimage does not need to be measured in steps. I need to travel inwards, not outwards, like a Sufi whose pilgrimage takes place with no physical movement. Yesterday, I pulled Personal Pilgrimage: One Day Soul Journeys by Viki Hurst off my bookshelf and began reading. This book has helped me craft three soul journeys that I plan to undertake in the next few weeks. These may be short pilgrimages you might also want to venture out on. Could these soul journeys be taken by anyone? Of course. However, these themes hold a deeper meaning for my older, wiser, female self this week, a meaning that my younger self, who bought this book over twenty years ago, might not have understood with such clarity.

Stages of a Pilgrimage

In preparation, let me share Hurst’s four stages of a pilgrimage.

Heeding the Call

The call to pilgrimage has been characterized as a longing for a deeper experience, a restlessness calling you forth. What is calling you forth? Is it a destination? Or maybe it is a cry for help? Or are you looking for some direction?

The Night Before

Many pilgrims engage in rituals to prepare the heart and soul for a pilgrimage. Medieval pilgrims would celebrate Mass prior to departure. Consider what contemplative practice you might want to engage in to prepare for your soul journey – meditating, listening to music, or maybe journaling. Also, make time for rudimentary tasks such as packing a book or journal and other trip necessities.

The Journey

Phil Cousineau writes, “The difference between pilgrim and tourist is the intention of attention, the quality of curiosity.” Think of the purpose of your journey. Be entirely present during your journey. Notice all the details. Be aware of your inner landscape.

The Homecoming

Deep reflection helps integrate the pilgrimage experience into the days ahead. The homecoming is a celebration, as well as a time of rest.

I am going to focus on the following three soul journeys to help me reflect on this past week. I welcome you to join me.

Soul Journey 1: The Presence of Still Water

Decide on a destination where water is the main element – a lake, pond, river, or ocean. If you are not close to water, is there a fountain, or a creek, where you can find stillness? This soul journey originates from Wendell Berry’s poem, The Peace of Wild Things,

When despair for the world grows in me
and I wake in the night at the least sound
in fear of what my life and my children’s lives may be,
I go and lie down where the wood drake
rests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds.
I come into the peace of wild things
who do not tax their lives with forethought
of grief. I come into the presence of still water.
And I feel above me the day-blind stars
waiting with their light. For a time
I rest in the grace of the world, and am free.

There is a pond close to my island home where I often walk Tucker. I never encounter anyone and have also yet to see the beavers that inhabit the pond. Here is where I will reflect on how the polarized opinions of others fill me with such pain. I will sink into the softness of the grass and think about how I can lend a calm voice to express my deeply entrenched values, including that we must put others before ourselves.

Soul Journey 2: A Sacred Retreat

Think of a place where others worship a higher power – a church, mosque, gurdwara, or sacred grove. Though I am not religious, I have found deep peace at various retreat centres in the Pacific Northwest where I have attended Courage and Renewal retreats. This is a time to feel oneness with something greater than ourselves. I hope that for me, this will be an opportunity to release my worries for the world, worries that are far beyond my control. I plan to visit a Buddhist temple close to my home. Whenever I drive by, the scent of incense wafts into my car and is reminiscent of my travels in Thailand and Bali. The temple is welcoming to visitors and I will take time to wander the gardens and visit the temple.

Soul Journey 3: Stand Under Branches

Find a tree, a tree with thick branches and deep roots. Maybe the tree is in your backyard or a local park, or maybe there is a botanical garden close by where you can find an old, gnarled tree. I will drive to a local bird sanctuary and walk, with my chair and thermos of coffee, to the dyke where trees shelter birds who hide from hawks swooping down on them.

There is a tree here so beautiful it even has a name.
Every morning, when it is still dark, I stand under its branches. They flow from the thick and silent trunk. One can’t begin to imagine their weight.
Year after year they reach,
they send out smaller and smaller branches, and bunches of flat green leaves to touch the light.

- From Fletcher Oak by Mary Oliver

There is an activity I invite women in my life story writing class to do, draw a tree of life. I imagine these women as trees, their roots intertwined and branches reaching out to each other. Mary, the last of my other mothers to pass on, was a painter with a style similar to Emily Carr, and I can still see her paintings of trees hung on living room walls. Her branches sheltered me and the roots of her tree will always be intertwined with mine.

These are only three of so many more short soul journeys you might want to explore. Here are a few more I have added to my list:

Sit on a hilltop or mountaintop. You are on the brink of everything at this point in your life. “It takes a lifetime to get here, but the stunning view of past, present, and future—and the bracing breeze in your face—make it worth the trip.” – Parker Palmer

Awaken with the sun. Get up early and enjoy a morning sunrise while you reflect on new beginnings as you transition into this state of your life.

Starry, starry night. East Point, on Saturna Island, is one of my favourite stargazing spots. Where can you go to look at the stars and meditate on how small we are in this vast galaxy?

A local coffee shop. Some of you may enjoy the noise of a local coffee shop while eavesdropping on conversations or deciphering relationships. I have several in my neighbourhood where I can lose myself in my thoughts despite the distractions.