My Christmas...

Santa Barbara Mission at Christmas...

On Friday my mother and I attended a mini-retreat at the Mission. The retreat covered one of my favorite readings. The reading from Luke on the birth of Christ.

In case your forgot or don't know it...

Luke 2:1-14

"In those days a decree went out from Caesar Augustus

that the whole world should be enrolled.

This was the first enrollment,

when Quirinius was governor of Syria.

So all went to be enrolled, each to his own town.

And Joseph too went up from Galilee from the town of Nazareth

to Judea, to the city of David that is called Bethlehem,

because he was of the house and family of David,

to be enrolled with Mary, his betrothed, who was with child.

While they were there,

the time came for her to have her child,

and she gave birth to her firstborn son.

She wrapped him in swaddling clothes and laid him in a manger,

because there was no room for them in the inn.

Now there were shepherds in that region living in the fields

and keeping the night watch over their flock.

The angel of the Lord appeared to them

and the glory of the Lord shone around them,

and they were struck with great fear.

The angel said to them,

“Do not be afraid;

for behold, I proclaim to you good news of great joy

that will be for all the people.

For today in the city of David

a savior has been born for you who is Christ and Lord.

And this will be a sign for you:

you will find an infant wrapped in swaddling clothes

and lying in a manger.”

And suddenly there was a multitude of the heavenly host with the angel,

praising God and saying:

“Glory to God in the highest

and on earth peace to those on whom his favor rests.""

What I find so moving about this reading is well..., it's frankly so ordinary. Of all the mysteries of faith, this is so easy to understand. A young woman giving birth to a child. Perhaps that is why it still moves me each and every time I encounter it. I can imagine a young woman suddenly in labor: no ER, no midwife, no doctor available--It happens everyday in the world. It is the most simple of concepts, but no other event in our history has a more profound meaning. Perhaps that is why every Christmas Eve when I stand in my most uncomfortable but stunning shoes and hear this reading--I ugly cry.

You see, I look around in whatever church I have the good fortune to attend and I see myself in every face. I see my beauty and my brokenness, my love, my pain, my hurt and hope. In friends, in strangers, in my family, in the face of my Beauties, my husband and my mother. I see my faith, my community...

I'm reminded as always, that we are all saints and sinners.

I see little ones so excited they can't sit still, I see babies sleeping on parents, I see proud grandparents, I see the elderly couples sharing what may be their final Christmas mass together on this earth. I see young love and hearts that hunger for love.

I see Christ in every-face.

The folks who are in church to please, and faces that are in the same pew every Sunday, and I see the beauty of little ones having their first Christmas.

This my fellow Pilgrims is what Christmas is for me... The Community of Saints.

I have but one thought to offer you this Christmas. For those of you searching for a little comfort, for those of you searching the world to find the Divine, for those of you looking for a love to complete you. You already have it.

You see as you search to find the Divine, the Divine is already here. In you and in me. You just have to be willing to open the door, the door that sticks just a bit. To open yourself to the places in your heart you don't feel comfortable opening. That place that you think is dark, scary and unlovable. Because it is that place Pilgrims, that place that you can't imagine love, is where you meet God.

You see there is a similar place in a small and dirty stable in Bethlehem where God chose to share his unending love with us. It's in that stable where Christ became one with us. I often find it surprising that folks don't realize that God is in them, that love is God. That God is joy. That in community we support, we walk together, we serve, we are the face of God to one another and that God is in us.

So as you rush and run, wrap and toil, clean, make the beds and set the table, as you iron the dresses and shirts for your prince and princesses; remember God is with you, in you and around you always. That HIS love shines on us....

Remember that the beautiful translation of the Hebrew word Emmanuel is; "God is with us," and that, is the true meaning of Christmas.

May the light of the Holy Christmas season shine on you and all you love today and always.

Merry Christmas.

Kathryn

PilgrimageGal

Photo Credit: Mr. PilgrimageGal

Determined...

Not the real Pope...

Did you know the Pope is determined? I bet you didn't. I sure didn't, but Norah says so, so it must be true. What would make my 9 year old daughter call the Pope, "determined?"   

But, I'm burying the lead.  The papal coverage didn't turn out as I expected and my Beauties seemed to find the loop hole, the real gotcha...

Our house was wall to wall papal coverage. I didn't move from the sofa during the Pope's visit to the U.S. I didn't take calls, didn't want to talk to anyone, just wanted to watch and learn.  OK, so that may be a slight exaggeration, I moved to make more tea and snacks.

Once the Beauties got home from school, we would watch the recaps of the visit. I was delighted to see many of my DC friends at the events. I saw oodles of friends I adore getting hugs and selfies from the Pope on CNN. The priest who is now a bishop; the one that baptized our Miss Norah, was on the altar with Papa Francisco. It was a bit like old home week, but the connection to our new faith community here in Santa Barbara was also included in the trip. Our parish is one of the California missions, which traces its founding back to Junipero Serra our newest Saint. It's amazing how my East and West coast lives seem to connect.  

But I digress, back to Papa being determined.

I have shared that we attend a family mass every Sunday (in the Junipero Serra Chapel!). It's a bit more laid back for families, not as formal as Mass in the main church. During the sermon, or what we call the homily, the Pastor often asks questions, to both the adults and the children. Father Charles asked the question, "What do you think of when you think of Pope Francis?" No surprise to those of us who love our Norah; her hand shoots up in the air in the crowded church. Hers was not the first hand that was called. Responses were as you would expect, "humble, Christ-like, loving, compassionate, merciful."

Then Father sees Norah, and with a big voice she answers, "DETERMINED!"  Not what he expected, but he loved her answer.

Determined.

I think that is what the Pope is attempting to share with us, his determined delivery of mercy.

Ian and I had a complete 12 year old's experience. Ian was feeling a little too cool to want to watch wall to wall coverage, but on Sunday, while Jeff and Norah were out running errands, I cornered Ian on the sofa and bribed him. You do have to pay to play in my house. Ian, you want electronic devices, settle in and watch the Pope's homily and offer me some feedback. Then and only then will you get some screens. I don't feel guilty at all!  So with some hurumps and a few sighs, Ian settled in on the sofa and listened. At one point, Pope Francis talks about family life and how we need to treat each other with respect and love. He went on to share that we shouldn't be yelling at each other, that we need to show each other mercy. I'm paraphrasing, but you get the idea.

Well that sold Ian.

"Mom, wait till Norah gets home and I tell her that THE POPE said not to yell at your family, that it's basically a sin."

Now to be fair, I'm a voice raiser myself, but goodness we love her, Norah has used her vocal range to some success more often than we like.  Her older brother was delighted that during the forced religious time, he scored a gem, the biggest emerald a boy could find to hold over his little sister's head... "Nooooorah, THE POPE said, no yelling...."

So here we sit in our post Pope visit world, reflecting on the impacts it has had on us. We need to revisit several of the passages on mercy, because we currently seem to be in a torment our siblings mode, not quite what Papa Franciso had in mind.

While I sort through the unintended consequences of wall to wall coverage... I will try to find some mercy and love to spread around.

In the meantime, we are DETERMINED to try our best to eliminate the yelling in our house.  

Baby steps.

Peace be with you,

  Kathryn

  PilgrimageGal

Thank you for walking with me this week and always. I do use social media to keep in touch. You are welcome to find me on

Facebook

,

Instagram

or comment below. I personally answer all my correspondence...and I'm always glad to meet another traveler. xo

Photo Credit: PilgrimageGal

Sharing My Journey...

I love that I have met so many of you through this journey. Our Pilgrimage, our truth, our complimentary stories that overlap and create a quilt of love. Your square in that quilt warms my soul on the darkest days and wraps me in grace each and every moment.  I never question how the best loves in my world just fall into my life.  It always feels the same, as if I have known your soul for eternity.

You became part of my journey, because the Divine created a special space that belongs to you. You each hold the job of teacher, friend, guide and shepherd. Each of you show me a unique face of the Divine, a deeper connection to love.  I never question each and every gift, I just recognize that God has a plan and I'm trying to be open to this journey that is mine and love with open arms.

Which always leads me back to words on this page.

I'm often asked, how long does it take for me to write a post. That my Lovies is a difficult question to answer. Often it's quick, I sit down and the ideas pour out of me, I feel the Spirit is whispering in my ear and moving me to share my truth. Other times it is nearly impossible. The words won't come and I feel as if I have nothing to share. That I'm empty and I'm drowning in silence and agitation. I have found a pattern when these times have occurred, and it has occurred in the last month. I have found it difficult to share my inner life.

I have held back my truth, I attempt to sugar coat or make my life seem something it is not.

That has been the struggle of the last month. I have attempted to phone it in... and you have called me on my foolishness. I love how you know me so well you can feel the change in my spirit and have asked for clarification and just checked-in. That is accountability. We are called to be accountable to each other and to be open and honest as people who walk in the light.

The real truth is my health at this moment stinks. I have been in the doctor's office more than I like. Blood tests, and heart scans, the foolishness of chronic disease. I honestly just feel sick. When I'm sick, the cocktail of medications that I have makes me tired and edgy and well just not me!

A quick recap on my health is in order here: I have benefited from a therapy that has supported me for a few years. Sadly, the blocking mechanism is no longer preventing inflammation. My lungs are paying the price and I'm in constant thoracic pain. I have been in denial for three months, claiming the hot summer, the busy schedule and many other excuses, that take the gaze away from the truth. I'm regressing and I don't know what my medical team can offer.

To be honest it has been a difficult burden, I feel a little cheated. I have been spiritually obedient, I moved away from my beautiful East coast life, open and willing to forge a new one here. Only to find the road here much more difficult than the one I left. I have made some dear and lovely friends, but my health is tricky, my family and longtime friends are all back East. I have little support here and my husband travels constantly.

Yet in my heart, I don't want to go back.

I love that my husband loves his job, my Beauties are blossoming into beautiful tweens.  I love the weather, I love the lifestyle, and I love our faith community. This is my home and I'm grateful. The best way to describe my emotions is that I feel like the second semester of freshman year in college.  You love the school, but you are homesick for the familiar, you want things to be just a tad easier.

Whenever my health falters, I want that easy life. I feel entitled. But why? I honestly have everything I need. My health while painful, is stable. I'm not going to be hospitalized or die from this set back. Is the quality of my daily life greatly diminished? Yes. I don't have a moment in my day that is not filled with severe pain. Do I have the right to be angry? Of course.

But at the end of this pity party for one, who benefits from my frustration and despair?

The answer is clear, no one does.

I have a choice.

Will I look into my dark place and find what really is causing my disappointments? And honestly add voice to these thoughts? The answer is, yes. I will own my feelings and say...

I'm tired of suffering. I'm tired of not getting God's attention to make my life just a little bit easier. Not being willing to say, Why me? Why isn't my life cake, filled with rainbows and unicorns?  I look at others who seem to have a much easier journey. And I'm ANGRY!

BUT...

What is crystal clear is that my anger and despair will change nothing. Not a thing! What I have learned is that despair is a cancer. When given space, it overpowers you, until you are gone and all that is left is a shell.

I'm choosing to find joy. Because joy is infectious (in a good way), it is affirming, it is well, joyous.

My journey's horizon will widen because of this set back. I will meet more doctors, and in all of this suffering, I will meet more special people like you, who are on this path and part of the beautiful quilt that God has chosen for me.

That is all the medicine I need to find the hope and faith I need to continue on this Pilgrimage.

So if this week finds you filled with less hope and more sadness: do something to expand the joy in your circle.  This week, I'm tasking each one of you to send five messages of hope. It can be to anyone be it a stranger or the people you love. It can be an email or a postcard or a phone call, maybe you pay it forward with a nice note to someone you see everyday. Or maybe some cookies or a dinner for someone needing a lift.

Five messages of hope. Just think if we all did that this week. Shared a little bit of hope--our world would be incredibly more joyful.

So there you have it.  My life is bumpy right now, really bumpy...

But I need to run, we are taking dinner to two amazing families that need a little food joy from the Ferguson kitchen. One had knee surgery and the other had a baby... We are making pasta bolognese. My whole house smells like Italy! It's Monday and we are spreading a lot of love in Santa Barbara!

Hope you find time to spread some love and joy this week as well.

Peace be with you,

  Kathryn

  PilgrimageGal

T

hank you for walking with me this week and always. I do use social media to keep in touch. You are welcome to find me on

Facebook

,

Instagram

or comment below. I personally answer all my correspondence...and I'm always glad to meet another traveler. xo

Photo Credit:

Pixabay

Bright Blue Finger Nails...

I have bright blue finger nails... Bright blue! I'm a red girl, sometimes pink but never bright blue. My nail color is a result of my Beauties. They seemed to think I was a wee bit predictable--I showed them!

Getting a manicure has become part of my life in California. Perhaps it's the year around flip-flops, or just an adjustment to life out West. I'm a life long biter and peeler, so when I woke one morning to find my cuticles bleeding, I knew I needed a change.  I was picking my nails in my sleep. Next I will be pulling out my hair thanks to stress! I needed to turn a stress-er into a relaxing treat. My nail appointments are just that. What makes nails fun is that they are easy to change--the owner of the salon Kathy and my Beauties pick the color.  All summer I have been wearing bright unique shades of color.

I know there are oodles of you out there who may think this is a bad idea. The cost, the chemicals. Maybe true.  But, the main reason I do my nails is psychological. It is the one thing that I do that reminds me, I'm still me. My nails are the only place I can hide my illness; it's the only place that has been spared. Every other part of my body has a telltale scar.

My illness owns this body, but not my spirit. And not my nails! Nope they dazzle and impress.

Even today, my body is waning under the pressure of inflammation, but my nails are stunning. Last night Jeff administered my monthly shot and the next day I like to do nothing. Frankly my body wants me to do nothing. Today, I needed an excuse to get out of bed. Sometimes mentally you need to fight the urge to stay in bed. It can be a difficult choice, risk a flare over the mental health need to see the world. Jeff had the worry face, and he even said, "I think you should stay in bed, you look tired, you slept in and I want you to rest. BUT, if you need to go out and do your nails, I will support you."

I know... I wish I could clone him for all of you.

I rolled out of bed into some cleanish clothes, that hid my unshaven legs, and nasty hair, and put on my Jackie O sunglasses and watched Ian and Norah swim. I love those moments when I get to sit back and bask in my life. Delighting in my family and just get to "be". Since driving is out of the question today, Jeff dropped me off so Kathy could make my nails look lovely.

I try and force myself to be uncomfortable at least once every day. I would never pick blue for myself, the first day it shocks me. But, as the weeks progress, the blue becomes integrated and accepted. Just like I have done with the rest of me. I have a place of acceptance.

When I share that I force myself to be uncomfortable, let's be clear, I'm not talking about dangerous and risky behavior. No, I'm talking about the self imposed construct that we have placed on ourselves that says, "I don't do that." The ruts we sometimes find ourselves in.

I don't do blue nails... but why?  I didn't have a good reason. Blue nails are silly, sassy and for the next two weeks they are me! Because if I'm not willing to try blue nails perhaps they are masking other opportunities in my life where I say, "I don't do that." It also allows me the opportunity to let go. Let go of the control that I tell myself foolishly, I need to have. It pushes me. It challenges me. My hope is within that challenge, I will learn, grow and change.

The blue nails remind me to send that email or make that phone call to introduce myself. To make connections that I would normally make excuses to avoid. Everyday, I'm forcing myself to try something new, meet a new person, extend my hand to someone who may need my support.

What will push you to make the world a better place, to make a new friend, or more importantly to make you the best version of yourself?

Perhaps blue finger nails won't be your diving board to the deep end of the pool...

But, maybe it will give you a gentle nudge--If not, what will?

xo,

Kathryn

PilgrimageGal

Thank you for walking with me this week and always. I do use social media to keep in touch. You are welcome to find me on 

FaceBook

, 

Instagram

 or comment below. I personally answer all my correspondence...and I'm always glad to meet another traveler. xo

Photo Credit: PilgrimageGal

Who Are Your Poor...

Ice cream makes everything better...

O'my goodness it's been two weeks... How are you?! It's been too busy for words around here.

I had a birthday--wahoo 45! Jeff had a birthday, we had some parties. There was cake and it was delicious. We have been to the beach and the pool.

The Beauties went back to school--Thank you, Jesus!

There have been tears, ice cream, tears and ice cream, a diet coke and that is just me.

I went on a retreat for a day of reflection, Jeff has been away, home and away again; we have hosted and fed family members the last two weekends. There has been lots of cooking, cleaning, preparing and organizing. We located school supplies, did school shopping and hunted for hidden backpacks missing since June. We also have been in a heat wave, which makes us all cranky and hot. Did I mention we have no A/C? And one of the Beauties threw up in the car on the way to church.

In other words, nothing much going on here...

After writing all of this I feel like I need a diet coke and a shot of tequila. Welcome to the end of August. Where you find out what you are made of and it's never pretty.

This is why mothers should never write down what we do in a given day.  Some days it's just overwhelming, just shocking what we accomplish.  Which is why I was so happy to sit in mass today. Just sit and listen to the Word of God. I had no expectations, just gratitude for being in a house of worship. Father Charles Talley is our pastor and a Franciscan. We have been attending the family mass with the Beauties. One of the best things about going to services designed for children is the homily or sermon is crystal clear. I don't know about you, but sometimes I need very clear and very easy.

Now when I say easy, I mean easy to comprehend not always easy to do in practice. Father was explaining to the children something I thought was really profound. He explained to the children that helping the "poor" isn't always about the homeless person on the street. He explained beautifully that poor sometimes means the people that maybe just need a little of our time or a little more of our help than others in our daily journey. The people right in front of us, in our workplace, school and in our family.

What constitutes the poor in my life and how am I supporting them? I realized the poor in my life may in fact have more money, but may just be more isolated or lonely. Maybe it's the guy that's a little different who still sits alone everyday at lunch. We always tell our Beauties to be kind with the child who is a little different, but do we do the same? Do we have lunch or grab a coffee with the different or difficult person in our office? Do you ever invite "that relative" over for dinner? Or what about just talking to the single widower on your block? Just maybe drag his cans to the curb for trash day. We all sometimes stick to our own friends at school pick-up or drop-off, not out of meanness, but often just out of our own selfishness to catch up with our people. Or because we are stuck in our regular routine. Sometimes the "poor" are the moms who stand just a little to the side at drop off and hang back until the last second at pick-up; it's amazing how a hello and invite to the park play-date can change their day, or even just, "how are you doing this week?".

Helping the "poor" may also mean making yourself uncomfortable for the greater good. Jeffrey and I did that this week. It's not easy--believe me we have the sweaty and shaky hands to prove that!  If you will indulge me, I have a little story:

I'm not sure how it is in other faiths, but when you change parishes in the catholic faith you fill out a registration card with your vital information. The card also includes volunteer opportunities. Jeff and I checked boxes for a number of volunteer ministries. What we didn't know is that our new parish is really good a getting you to commit!  In our tradition, lay ministers read the readings from the Old Testament and the epistles or letters of the New Testament, while a priest or deacon reads from the Gospel (or the stories of Jesus' life found in the books of Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John.) Jeffrey and I were all ready to read in the children's mass you know the easy, no pressure a little less formal--no less important. When we got the email for training, we were happy to attend a training session. It quickly became crystal clear that we were being trained to do the readings for the main LARGE mission church, the one that I don't want to know the capacity because I may faint, not the sweet little no pressure chapel. The Mission is stunning and the readers are top notch, professional, everything is buttoned up and beautiful. I love attending mass in the main Mission church. It's glorious. Jeff and I are "B" team people and are so good with that. Who wants to have sweaty hands when you get up in front of way too many. We want to proclaim the Word to folks who are trying to distract their two year old from melting down.  Not to folks who may actually be listening, that's way too much pressure. Apparently, the lector coordinator thinks Jeffrey and I are ready--GULP. We have been asked to read at both the main Mission church in addition to reading at the children's mass in the sweet chapel. We were both stunned, gobsmacked. Did I mention we were stunned? We did what we are flawless at; we stalled.  We asked for a few days to pray, discern and think about it. That is code for how do we politely get out of doing this without looking like jerks. Yep, we wanted out.

Why? Well who needs to be uncomfortable every time they go to mass. Aren't there better people or other folks or frankly anyone else who can read in the large church. Isn't it enough--we were willing to do it in the small chapel?!?! And then the lector coordinator lovingly told us that this is a vocation and it was no coincidence we were there.  The Holy Spirit was calling us. Hammer moment, from our cartoon days when one character would get hit over the head and see stars. We were seeing our own stars, being nervous, uncomfortable and having sweaty palms wasn't good enough.  It just wasn't. We were being called to serve others, and some of those others may be the very poor that needed to hear the Word of God from us. The Divine was telling Kathryn and Jeff that life isn't supposed to always be comfortable.

What I failed to tell you in the beginning of the story was that we took Ian and Norah to the training session. They saw us practice the readings in the car and then stand up and essentially audition. My dress was wet with sweat from nerves. Nerves because I wanted to do well, wanted the Beauties and Jeff to be proud.  I wanted to in my own ambitious way, "kill it". To pat-myself-on the back, to know in my heart, I did it, I had made myself uncomfortable and then would happily go back to the kid's mass in the chapel where we belonged. With a little luck, hopefully never having to read on the big stage.

When we were done after 1.5 hrs, pushing  6 pm, I was hot, tired and I wanted a martini, but instead we settled on ice cream.  Jeff and I split French vanilla with peanut butter cups. The Beauties each telling us that we were the best readers. It was a lovely moment. Jeff and I trying to figure our how we were going to politely defer, we are so busy, I've got health issues, Jeff travels, surely you really don't want us...

What I didn't expect was the true gift the next morning--the first day of school. Both kids were nervous and excited and when Ian had a few tears leak out of his lashes, I was able to share my truth. "Hey Ian, I don't know if you realized yesterday I was soooo nervous and so was Dad. Did you realize that?"  He looked up with his soft and loving blue eyes, his long dark eyelashes wet with tears, when another tear accidentally leaked out, "No, Mom I didn't."  I went on to explain that I was clammy, gross, nervous and maybe a little nauseous to try something new, my hands were a little shaky and I worried what others would think, worried I would make mistakes, worried I just wasn't good enough. But I knew in my heart that I had to try anyway. I told him I understood exactly where he was. He looked at both of us, nodded and jumped-up, brushed the errant tears and dashed off; Ian turned just long enough to say, "I've got this."

Later, after school, over ice cream he would say he had a fantastic first day.

My email to the lector coordinator that evening said, "We are in."

The Fergusons are all in, looking for the poor in the unexpected places; looking for the people who just need to feel a little more love in their life. Those who may need a smile, a hug, or maybe just to hear the word of God from a very nervous reader or her cute husband.

Namaste.

The Divine in me bows to the Divine in you.

xo,

Kathryn

PilgrimageGal

Thank you for walking with me this week and always. I do use social media to keep in touch. You are welcome to find me on

FaceBook

, 

Instagram

or comment below. I personally answer all my correspondence...and I'm always glad to meet another traveler. xo

Photo Credit: PilgrimageGuy

The Lessons of our Pilgrimage...

I have always wanted to be that girl who traveled the world, to visit the holy sites of the major faiths. For twenty years I have longed to walk the "El Camino de Santiago" in Spain. In English it is known as the "Way of St. James". A holy pilgrimage that dates back to the Middle Ages where thousands walk through Spain to the Cathedral Santiago de Compostela.

Pilgrims walk on multiple routes to the cathedral. Along the way they pass through villages and stay in small hotels or inns. They travel in groups or alone looking for spiritual enlightenment. When on a pilgrimage you may travel for many different reasons, but at the end you are looking for answers, enlightenment and peace.

Along the Camino, pilgrims have taken to wearing or carrying scallop shells. The tradition of the shell dates back to the legend of St. James the Apostle. There are several stories that involve St. James and the scallop shell that have become part of the tradition. One is, that the grooves in the shell, which come together at a single point, represent the various routes pilgrims traveled, all ending at the same destination. The journey is epic, filled with mountain views and concludes with ocean vistas. You crisscross through towns and villages along the way, meeting new friends and also have time for self-reflection and exploration.

I loved the idea that you walk and meet fellow pilgrims and at the end of the day you find yourself in a small village drinking wine and making relationships to support you on this magnificent journey. You could make life long friendships. Imagine ancient villages with Spain's beautiful topography, the comfort of a meal, resting your tired feet, and knowing you were walking the same path that St. James had walked thousands of years before.

At the end, pilgrims discuss the physical and emotional challenges they encountered and overcame along the way. Many offering tales of life affirming and spiritual change.

I wanted to take that transformative journey.

But, I lacked two things, the financial ability to go for two months and more honestly, I don't have the physical strength to tackle such a journey. I don't have a nanny, a driver, a house manager, and I don't have a private jet. Listen if you do, God bless you, please invite me on vacation. I mean a private jet...seriously let's go! Don't get me wrong, I'm a girl with first world problems; honestly, I'm a princess and I know it.

This is a journey that wasn't going to happen for me.

I made peace with that revelation.

I realized that if I wanted that transformative experience, I was going to have to create my own. I would create my journey, listen to the pilgrims at the quiet rest stops the Divine put on my path. My path would not be in Spain, it would be in the coffee shops in my own town, the people I meet when I do public speaking, and the individuals I meet on my daily journey through this life of mine.

I would share the lessons learned openly and honestly. With the hope that my fellow Pilgrims would do the same. We would share this journey, the truth and our encounters with the Divine.

That my fellow Pilgrims is how PilgrimageGal was born. And in that process, I would create my own transformative journey.

I have always been transparent when the blog first began; I was worried about my mortality, that I wouldn't live to see my Beauties grow into adulthood. The blog was and is for them, but it's more than just a record, it's a journal of my life lessons as I transform. I won't lie and say those thoughts of my mortality don't still cross my mind deep in the darkness of night; but it's not my focus. My focus remains learning, growing in my faith and running down the path to see what the next mile marker will teach me about love. It is in that transformation that all of my fellow

Pilgrims

(that's you) help me grow and deepen the lessons of this journey.

The beauty of transformation is that you have no idea how you will be on the other side. That is why this journey is so meaningful, I'm learning in real time. Sure there are many things I know for-sure and I share them. But more than that, I lean that each mile marker my faith strengthens, my love expands, and I'm growing to love more deeply that person that I see in the mirror. That expanding love, makes me a better mom, lover, friend and better Kathryn walking in the world.

We all have struggles. Sometimes it's your broken down jet, other times it's laundry, crazy bosses, relationship issues, parenting troubles, your ex, money worries, dealing with doctors, stupid insurance companies and raising loving and healthy children. I don't know too many of us who have the luxury and I mean luxury to drop out of our daily life to achieve this transformation. That is why PilgrimageGal is here. We are on this sacred pilgrimage together, we bring our problems, our joys, our successes and failures on the journey. We do all of this while caring for our aging parents, our children, while we carpool, work and make Wednesday night dinner. 

We are

Pilgrims

in the trenches! We are familiar with the messy and the foolishness of life. That is why we are walking and laughing together, sharing our truth, our love and light, and waiting for the next mile marker for a bite to eat, a delicious glass of wine, and some time for reflection.

That is what I'm offering to you... So lace up your shoes and meet me here. When your life leads you to a mile marker on your journey. We will sort it out together and keep moving forward.

I've gotta run, the laundry basket is overflowing... 

Till we meet again.

Namaste... The Divine in me bows and honors the Divine in you always.

Much love always,

Kathryn the PilgrimageGal

PS. I love to hear from you, so don't hesitate to send me a note with an update of your journey.  You can leave a comment, or friend me on

Facebook

or

Instagram

 or send me an email using the form on the right. Only my eyes will see the email, so please reach out and share your truth. I will do my best to get back in touch. 

photo credit:

Scallop Shell

via

photopin

(license)