Beholding was the pilgrim’s work.
…a way of looking that called for more fine-tuned and patient attention.
In beholding, there might be contemplation and wonder.
Curiosity, yes, but not of an insistent kind—
the kind that is open to experience and open to the heart’s whisperings.
~Amy Frykholm
It’s been over a month of resting, rejuvenating and reflecting on my 500+ miles of pedaling the Great Lake-to-Lake Trail, from Lake Michigan to Lake Huron (and, then some). During these past six weeks, I’ve been delightfully stunned by what has emerged about my pedaling pilgrimage across this beautiful state of Michigan. I knew I had been called to pilgrimage; and, I trusted that what I was being called to was something important and potentially life-altering; something that would change me.
It’s been interesting and sobering to recall the hopes and expectations that surfaced as I was imagining my journey. From the first mutterings of invitation, through my planning, preparing, and even my first day of pedaling, I knew what I wanted to be revealed and resolved. I had questions that I wanted to be answered; perplexities that I wanted to be explained. I had needs and desires for direction, perhaps permission, about where I was supposed to be heading in my life, and what I was supposed to be doing with my life. Surely, this pedaling pilgrimage was going to afford me the clarity for which I yearned! HA! My heart whispers, “Oh, silly you.”
In truth, I’m still opening to and receiving glimpses into the lessons of my journey. One of those lessons, “# 7” of my last post–“Let go of what you do not need”—was a daily itch. And, not only relevant to the tangible things packed. But, rather, more importantly, regarding the mental stuff I was carrying. One thing I truly struggled to relinquish was my desire to write about and post my experiences on the road. I really did think that I would be energized by that task; that I would relish the opportunity to ask questions about and reflect on what I was witnessing. I planned to share pictures and insights. And, as you can attest, that didn’t happen. Certainly, one of the reasons for this was because I was tired at the end of each day. There were a few days when after checking into a hotel room, it was all I could do to muster the energy to take a shower, put on clean clothing, and grab some dinner before crashing on the bed and falling fast asleep.
Another, particularly poignant reason for my lack of writing was that I realized, after the few times that I did cobble together some words to post, that my pilgrimage was a journey into the territory of my heart, not the terrain of my mind. I was pedaling into and toward something unexplainable, not because I would never have the words to describe my experience. But because I had to have the experience, and then let it metabolize.
This was a bitter pill to swallow. I had told people I would be writing about this trek. I had made a commitment on this website, and to people in person. I had also hoped that by writing each night I would have a nice neat chronicle of my journey. The insistent pressure to write and avoid “letting anyone down” was enormous and exhausting. And, though I did try to explain what I was witnessing in those first few days, well…the words fell short. My energy ebbed, my interest lessened, and my reasons for riding started to feel like extra weight slowing me to a crawl. Fortunately, I came to realize that in putting so much energy into worrying about how others might feel about my lack of sharing, I was actually letting myself down by not attending wholly to my experience. Thus, I had to let go of my desire to write so that I could fine-tune my attention, and actually have and behold my experience, unencumbered by my aspirations and perceptions of others’ expectations or disappointments.
Now, I am writing, and I am eager to share some of my reflections about my days pedaling the Great Lake-to-Lake Trail in southern Michigan. So, stay tuned.
For now, I wonder, what is your heart whispering to you about your journey? What extra emotional or mental weight are you carrying that is perhaps something you might be ready to let go of or relinquish? Or, what is serving as an obstacle to fine-tuning your attention?
Pedal on, my friends!