Called to Pilgrimage

Reflections on a decade of heeding the call & why it's more important than ever

Sunrise at The Roofless Church, New Harmony Indiana (September 2015)

I remember it like a flash of lightening that interrupted the regularly scheduled programming of my life—the same way we remember the start of all life-altering experiences—great loves, kindred friendships & those mysterious encounters with something beyond the material world.

The call to pilgrimage came as I was sitting in a church pew with my Kula (Sanskrit for family, community or tribe), listening to Celtic teacher and author John Philip Newell talk about learning to listen, not with our ears, but with our hearts.

He mentioned a place called the Roofless Church as an example of the kind of space that facilitated the heart hearing he was describing to us. In unison, the Kula looked at each other with a wordless knowing that we would be going there. Soon.

We were in Texas. It was in Indiana. No matter. The deal was sealed.

Indeed, four months later three of us piled into my SUV, having cleared space in our mom lives—school drop-offs, pickups and activities arranged for the seven kids among us. As we settled into the car, the energy shifted away from chronos (linear/secular) time to kairos (cyclical/spiritual) time. The difference was palpable.

We knew we were driving 850 miles from Houston to New Harmony, but didn’t know much else about the route. We entertained ourselves endlessly asking the still novel Siri what state we were in and cackling wildly when we discovered where in the world we were!

We did know we were leaving on a Thursday and returning on Sunday. Do the math. That meant driving two days there and two days back with no full days at our destination. It didn’t make a bit of sense in chronos time, but it made perfect sense in kairos time.

We spent our first the night in the Ozarks so we could visit Thorncrown Chapel, a glass sanctuary in the woods near Eureka Springs, Arkansas—magically (because there are no coincidences on pilgrimage), it was right on our route. It felt like another roofless church beckoning us with its 425 windows, making the entire surface of the structure blend seamlessly into the woodland surroundings. Designed by one of Frank Lloyd Wright’s apprentices, the chapel was inspired by Sainte Chappelle, Paris’ light filled gothic chapel and was named the 4th best design of the 20th century by the American Institute of Architects. Ozark Gothic was a vibe we didn’t even know we needed.

This is the caliber of “roadside attractions” that make themselves known when you accept the call of a pilgrimage.

The small town of Eureka Springs is a whole vibe in and of itself. I bought my first singing bowl there after I heard it calling to me. Literally would not let me leave it behind because it needed to be played in the Roofless Church.

Singing bowl in hand, we headed to New Harmony, a shorter drive—only six and a half hours—than the day before. We arrived in New Harmony way after dark following a dinner stop, finding the entire town deserted. Eerily, we saw not a soul.

We padded reverently on bare feet along stone pathways into the walled garden that was the roofless church, enveloped in the darkness, the still and the solitude. Time fell away. The dark sky and the twinkling stars that adorned it were no longer a function of night, but a portal inviting us to rest more deeply into the kairos.

We accepted the invitation in our collective heart, and in that moment our lives became a liturgy intersecting with the eternal.

We lay down on the grass, silently, taking on the grandeur of the sky. We stayed there there a long time, the three of us holding hands, floating in a place that we had never been and had always been.

Finally, Kim spoke aloud, vowing, “May we always make space in our lives for each other and for experiences like this.” Kelly and I affirmed and then the agreement was sealed by the universe with a star shooting brilliantly across the sky.

We gasped at the perfection of the moment, all of creation conspiring to remind us that life is MORE. More than our worries, our plans and tasks. So much more.

Another message was transmitted at the exact moment the star shot across the sky. Kelly intercepted it and relayed it to us when we got into our room later that night.

We each had our own healing to do on this pilgrimage and mine was finding a way to live life without my sister Angie who had died suddenly just seven months earlier. I had already had several encounters with her, and we had developed a language of sorts, but I still felt lost in many ways.

I needed a new North Star, and one fell from the sky that night.

Shining Star. Never Far.

Kelly heard the words clearly, and Angie made it sure she knew the message was from her to me. It was a gift that I carry with me still.

There is so much more magic that happened. There always is when you step out of the the river of your everyday life and surrender to the bigger flow of the universe. There were unexplainable wrinkles in time and an impromptu service we held in a tiny chapel (just big enough for the three of us) where we called Shellee, a missing Kula member, who sang us this song.

I said in the title of this piece that I would tell you why pilgrimage is more important than ever. I feel like I’ve explained the beauty and depth of the practice of pilgrimage as well as I can with words. But, why is it indispensable now, at this moment?

Because the chronos (secular reality) we are swimming in is a timeline filled with chaos, confusion, pain and loss. Pilgrimage is an antidote more powerful, sustainable and life-giving than the easy-to-grab electronic distractions.

We need kairos (spiritual time) to balance our systems. We need reminders that the miracles are there waiting for us outside of any algorithm.

And you don’t have to go far. Pilgrimage is as much of a perspective shift as it a geographic one. Your backyard will suffice if you enter it unplugged and with receptivity. Expect magic, and it will find you—in the delicate stands of a spider web, a wise snake slithering by, a new bloom or a falling leaf.

Are you ready to heed the call?

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If Scotland’s Celtic wisdom is calling you, step into two portals of lost feminine knowing with me as we travel there in May. There is only ONE SPOT left for the Her Wild Ways trip to the Western Isles (May 16-26) and four spots on the She Who Comes Before journey to Eastern Scotland (May 1-11). Find more information here.

I am leaving this Wednesday for a pilgrimage to Delphi, Greece with my dear friend Priestess Yeshe of Caravan Sophia. She leads trips that hold the kairos energy strongly and help you sink into it. I’ll be posting some special videos for my paid subscribers from a few of the sites there, giving my supporters a chance to join in a bit of the oracular exploration we’ll be doing. Upgrade today to be included on those posts!