REFLECTIONS ON LIFE AS PILGRIMAGE

It was deep loss that first taught me to view life as pilgrimage; fragile, sacred, and continually unfolding.

I’ve marked yet another year since my husband, Russell’s, death. This annual anniversary serves as a reminder that I’m still on the path creating a life that I had not imagined back then. It may be different, but the notion of pilgrimage reminds me that I’m not lost because I’m still walking. And in the walking, I sense hope.

The idea of life being a journey is not new or unique, but for me, sensing my life as pilgrimage goes deeper. It speaks to the deep loss and disappointment I have experienced that I cannot change, but instead of becoming paralysed, pilgrimage allows me to reshape the road as I walk it. Most people imagine beginning a journey with a destination in mind; pilgrimage, on the other hand, often begins when the road we thought we were on disappears.

It is not clarity that propels us into pilgrimage, but disruption.

This is the time that we come up against deeper questions, such as:

Who am I? What really matters? Where is God in all this?

I realise that it is questions like these that have added a rich layer to my life. Pilgrimage allows for me to live without knowing the answers so long as I’m willing to keep walking and take in the beauty of living.

It also gives me a sense of spaciousness that is difficult to articulate. The closest I have come is thanks to the stunning words of Wendell Berry:

You may depend upon

affection, reading, knowledge,

skill – more of each

than you have – inspiration, work, growing older, patience,

for patience joins time

to eternity.

Pilgrimage teaches patience because the road reveals itself one step at a time.

I did not fully understand this until bereavement forced me to confront the reality of how little control I had over the timing and shape of my life. After Russell died, I found myself wrestling with FOMO for my life moving forward. Feeling like I had missed out on the dreams we had shared as a young couple, I didn’t want to miss out on anything else society deems important for a successful life.

Like many people, I considered suffering was taking me off course because my life had been irreconcilably jolted and changed for the worse.

However, the truth is that this disruption brought with it my most profound transformation.

Grief stripped away my illusions of a life without suffering. Disappointment humbled my certainty. Broken expectations opened me to a deeper dependence on God.

And all of this is part of my pilgrimage. It is not the destination that matters but the continual walking itself that reshapes me. I set out wanting to discover solutions to my pain, but eventually recognised that the path itself is the healer.

Long stretches of uncertainty, quiet reflection, unexpected joyful encounters, as well as fatigue, have slowly transformed me. My outer journey of rebuilding my life is an inner pilgrimage, and I am becoming someone deeper. I am becoming a pilgrim. And this road that I would never have chosen is becoming the place where I discover profound truths about love, faith, compassion, and about myself.

Something I notice about pilgrims that I deeply appreciate is that they travel light. Pilgrims realise that they cannot carry everything and learn to release what is too heavy: old expectations, the need to control outcomes, the pressure to appear successful, even the stories they tell themselves about how life “should” unfold.

They recognise that all experiences will pass. This allows for greater enjoyment of pleasurable pursuits and offers hope and resilience to navigate more challenging circumstances.

Pilgrims also recognise that the longer the walk, the greater the gift, because old age is not a certainty.

And the longer the walk, and the lighter we travel, the more space there is for grace to emerge. We become open to noticing a kindness shared, a moment of beauty, a quiet sense of wonder in God’s presence. These are gifts that we may otherwise have missed.

Being grateful becomes easier when we stop trying to carry the whole world.

I’m coming to realise that life is not all about achievement. A pilgrim’s life may not look impressive from the outside, but it carries an air of authenticity that is genuinely true and genuinely grateful. Pilgrimage is slowly teaching me that life cannot always be controlled or predicted. Some roads are gladly chosen, while others are given to us through loss, disappointment, or unexpected change. All are valid, and all belong.

It reminds me that life is not supposed to be rushed, mastered or perfectly understood. It is meant to be walked.

Since Russell’s untimely death, I’m still walking this road I never would’ve otherwise chosen. And I realise that if we are willing to keep walking through the varying seasons, even when the road is uncertain, we may discover something deeply reassuring:

We are not lost. We are simply pilgrims on the way.

And Pilgrimage is never about getting somewhere faster.

It is about becoming someone deeper.