Saint-Asnier, day 2
So my new pilgrim friend, Patricia, left this morning after a late rising and leisurely breakfast. I stayed put.
Last night, over our birthday pizza and pretty darn good house wine, she asked me if I was happy being a pilgrim. I hesitated in my answer. “Yes and no …I find some of it wearying: the rain, a different bed every night, the weight of the pack on my back some days, the same clothes day after day. But there are also moments of grace, inspiration, solitude filled with calm…I am happy to be here, though it’s not always fun.” Her answer to the same question was much simpler: she loves it all.
As she left this morning, almost gliding down the street, I thought that she is a natural pilgrim, while I’ve dropped into this world from another place and am just doing my best to get down the road day after day, trudging along with Gregory the Great weighing me down and my body always on the edge of another breakdown. But on I go, though not a natural born pilgrim, one by adoption - and that’s got to be good enough.
So today for me was a quiet day, mostly in my little room with the river flowing just beyond, listening to my book on the iPod, (Paul Elie’s intertwining of the lives of Dorothy Day, Walker Percy, Thomas Merton, and Flannery O’Connor), and writing in my journal, all the while tending my sore foot, (which is doing much better after its day off too). It rained a fair amount today so I was just as happy to be holed-up here as out on the road, (see, I’m NOT a natural pilgrim).
Tomorrow will hold new things to see, new thoughts to ponder, new inspirations, and, maybe, another pilgrim to befriend, then let go of….