Aging and Spirituality, the Pilgrimage Within
In a previous article, I touched on the similarities between aging and spirituality as a pilgrimage. I talk to many people who, as they get older, think a lot more about spiritual growth.
For some people, this may mean growing to understand a solid religious tradition that has been part of life since day one.
For others, it may mean questioning everything you have ever been taught about God, the Bible, or angels and demons.
For yet others, it may mean discovering new paths to inner growth and ways of looking at life, death, the afterlife, and the sources of peace and joy.
How do these changes occur anyway?
I am convinced that these deep fundamental changes in our understanding are not cognitive. Most of everything we have ‘learned’ through life has gone through our brains and the filters of our family, culture and even the weather.
We are taught to ‘think’ starting in kindergarten, and for many of us, it isn’t until we are distanced from the ideas, dogmas, and ‘rules’ learned and recited growing up that we discover new truths that can seem rather, for lack of a different word, ‘woo-woo.’
Have you ever walked into a room after a group has recently left and felt a light, almost celebratory, feeling as you walked through the emptiness?
Or perhaps you experienced a heaviness as if there were clouds in that room?
Nothing obvious explains these feelings except the energy field left by others. Our reaction could be neutral, or we might have a strong feeling of “Get me out of here”…or “What did I miss?”
I have observed that the older I get, the more I feel these energy fields. This may result from not having so many distractions like jobs and family. It may be the result of having more quiet time.
I may be in a tender place of losing a loved one, which happens much more frequently the older I get, or I may be dealing with chronic pain or depression.
Aging as pilgrimage
When we view aging as a pilgrimage to understand some of the ‘whys and wherefores’ within our lives, we realize that all the ‘brain knowledge’ we have acquired over the years is of limited help to survive the rigors of the journey.
Knowing the history of El Camino Real and the culture of the local people may be interesting but not particularly helpful when your back is aching, your feet are swollen, and you don’t know how far you have yet to go.
What helps is being well acquainted with your body and what it is teaching you, having kept enough notes along the way to give you a reference when you feel lost, and the inner knowledge that you can only take one step at a time.
When we are younger, we often get caught up in multitasking. This is not helpful on a pilgrimage.
As I was reading Penn’s book Pilgrimage, I watched how she struggled with blisters, doubts, and fears, not unlike my own journey of growing older. She would wrap her sore feet and partake of an occasional chocolate bar.
Listening to your body as a spiritual guide
The more we listen to our bodies, the more we discover a new dimension of spirituality. Our bodies will teach us deeper truths about the beliefs that had been ‘taught’ to our brains when we were younger.
For example, when my hips ache, I am reminded of the story of Jacob’s struggle with an angel that ‘changed the way he walked.’
My walk is also changing, not only physically but spiritually.
One advantage I have with changes to my walking as I age is the availability of canes, walkers, and accessibility accommodations like ramps and elevators.
To this end, I am grateful for my younger son’s career as owner of a business that makes life accessible for those of us who struggle with getting up a flight of stairs. But his business, Maine Accessibility, does not address changes in my spiritual walk.
When your walk changes with age
Spiritually, my walk has developed a gimp not unlike Jacob (I assume…I wasn’t there). There are days I feel connected with the Divine and full of love for humanity.
Other days, I ask what’s the meaning of all this —war, famine, confusion, and yes—the difficulties of aging.
When I don’t take the time to sit with the changes that accrue every day (and they seem to be coming faster and faster), I only experience the woe of them.
When I struggle to tie my shoes or climb a flight of stairs, I say, “Oh well…aging is a bitch!” But when I really take the time to sit and listen, what do I hear?
I hear
- Are you grateful that you have shoes?
- Stairs can be circumvented. How can you adapt to who you are?
- Remember your journey. You have climbed many mountains bigger than this and you are still here to tell about it.
- What can you teach those who are behind you on the path?
Regarding this last message from my insides, I am reminded of how trails are blazed with orange swatches of paint by those who have gone before. The markers lead the way.
How do I leave markers for others to follow? Are they clear? Do I need to revisit them to strip away the weeds that obscure their view to pilgrims behind me?
That is my challenge this day. I have a lot of ‘trail maintenance’ to do. What is your challenge?
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