Pilgrimage Summary

When I visited the wishing tree a few days after completion of the pilgrimage the cloth which the Pink Angel had tied to the tree had vanished. The cloth was attached to the tree at the beginning of the pilgrimage and had remained until the finish. I was grateful for its presence for it was a consistent source of inspiration because it reminded me of the Pink Angel and the miracles and magic I have experienced since discovering the wishing tree. On the final day of the pilgrimage I walked to the tree and attached the clear jewel, which had been attached to my left hand for more than two months, to the cloth, so when the cloth went missing I guessed that the clear jewel was also gone. I stood beside the now empty tree facing east, watching the sun rise over the lake. As I turned to leave I noticed the tree emanating a shining light at eye level so I looked for the source and was surprised to see that the clear jewel was now attached to the east side of the tree. The golden fabric, which I had used to secure the jewel to my hand during the pilgrimage, was tied to a small protrusion of bark which held the jewel firmly in place. As of yesterday the clear jewel was still attached to the tree.

At the beginning of my walking journey four months ago I recall writing that I did not know what a pilgrimage was and so I was going to have to discover the meaning while walking upon the path myself. The pilgrimage now complete I will attempt to summarize my experience :

*Having walked my first pilgrimage during a late stage of life I was able to utilize physical and mental methods I had accumulated from years of experience in various activities. Training for and participating in ultra-marathons was an excellent preparatory exercise for a walking pilgrimage. The many books I have read were also helpful, especially the four books which described the experiences of people who walked a long distance path. The books detailed the physical experiences but unclear to me was how these walks differed from normal, everyday hikes. 

*Ideas about the walk came to me spontaneously during time spent upon the path, such as the need for a home-base, to carry the clear jewel at all times, and to offer it to the tree upon completion of the walk. 

*Not surprising, the hardest parts were the beginning and ending. The long middle was certainly challenging but momentum gained each day helped carry me along in relative ease and comfort.  The ending brought upon me a temporary madness which was the final and most arduous trial of the walk. When the path ended it seemed like I had just passed through fire and ice, a war-zone of the spirit. Having survived this trial and everything else encountered upon the path a great peace and relaxation settled into me which remains today.

*As for the meaning of the walk and what being a pilgrim entails, enter the path and discover the awesome answers while walking upon it. I don't regret the experience even though it was difficult and dangerous, it strengthened my faith and that alone makes it worthwhile.

No More Wishes

This morning I completed the final segment of the pilgrim path which I began on November 15, 2024, making the amount of time spent upon it 115 days. In relation to time, walking the path was equal to my 2018-19 SE Asian journey, where I wrote 115 daily travel entries in this blog, which is a curious synchronicity. 

Last night the voice revealed that the pilgrim path had been completed and this made me feel great relief and joy. Walking this particular pilgrim path, the east and west Chicago routes, was challenging throughout, reminding me of running an ultra-marathon when moving forward becomes increasingly more difficult to sustain as darkness and pain descend upon body and mind. The final week of the walk I descended into deep pits of memory which culminated in losing my color vision. I was unsure how long such negative events were to last and for what purpose, if any. Day after day my mind was heaped with shame upon shame dredged from the darkest and most hidden parts of my psyche. To survive such an assault I brought into focus my dual experiences of wandering in SE Asia and training for and participating in ultra-marathons. I'd finally reached the end point, the precipice, the part of the race where things begin shutting down and yet the feet keep moving forward. Time, hours and minutes, feels heavy and burdensome, passing entities cannot help and some hinder and obstruct so that I am always on razor's edge. Then it happens, something unwinds, releases, letting go of all that bundled energy, REALLY LET GO! I was at the pier as evening approached, up on the hill facing east and nobody was near so I gathered up that energy and let out a primal scream which emptied into the vast waters and sky. Then I laughed and watched as the energy was expunged into glorious open space.

That was the it, the all, the end of walking the pilgrim path. I lay in bed last night feeling strange relief, a lightness and sense of ease coursing through me. To what end had I walked it, I wondered? No worries, I no longer cared, all I wanted to do now was nothing, no where to be and no one to see. 

I rose this morning feeling light and energized and decided to walk to the wishing tree. I smiled easily as I breezed along, no longer burdened with the struggles of the path. I just existed, in the here and now, hoping not to be a nuisance and just breathe in the air. When I arrived at the tree I was struck with the realization that this was the day to offer the amulet of the golden flower which was gifted to me on December 26th, 42 days into the pilgrim walk. The talisman/amulet I wore everyday on my left hand, its golden ring of fabric always bright and shining. The clear jewel was held snug in my palm and the four minor jewels wrapped around the hand. When exercising the jewels would dig into the flesh, a stinging reminder of it's protection and I was grateful. From the first days of clutching it was obvious I was to offer it to the wishing tree - "This clear jewel is to be offered in future after having served its purpose. I pray I will know when that is." 

And so it was, as I stood this morning in the deep shadow of the wishing tree, I offered the final segment of the pilgrim walk, which was now complete, and removed the amulet from my wrist and stood looking at the tree determining how to secure it. I gazed at the thick fabric tied around the tree and the two red roses, which were still held in place. I reached high and slipped the jewel between fabric and tree and gently encircled the red rose petals with the golden fabric. I stepped back then and smiled, a cool ease settling into my being. Whatever had been clamped inside my mind was now released and I made my wish - my wish is to have no more wishes.

Phoenix! Hey, Sage Phoenix

What do I know. Nothing. At all. I follow a path narrow and steep with precipice a footfall away, all I can do is abide the way. It is terrifying at times, in times like these. 

Two days ago on the westward path I had the sensation that my eyes lost their ability to see vibrant color, or, any color at all. I was walking east into downtown, a gravelly mist hovering about with the sun soon to be gone and suddenly I was horrified, startled beyond belief, everywhere my eyes gazed was white, black or gray. Sky - white. Buildings - white, gray and black. Cars - white, gray and black. I thought perhaps, wished it to be so, that it was a momentary glitch in the matrix of my mind, or perhaps an unforgettable moment of synchronicity. Minutes passed and as I continued to walk the general complexion of the scene remained the same. I feared I had gone colorblind, but no, LOOK, a bright red car! Then blocks of black and white and then an orange signboard, a color so ripe and pure it melted into the surrounding miasma giving it a ghoulish glow. Somehow, somewhere, the scene of desolation gave way to more cheerful moments and then I was almost, almost, back to normal upon reaching my abode.

The overall atmosphere of the city is one of contraction upon contraction, looping indefinitely. I get a sense of dreadful foreboding reaching deep into my bones, and then I unleash a wicked laugh, a laughter so perverse it startles my ears. I can't help it, I am now laughing at things I normally would not notice at all, all is laughter, the laughter of going mad! Mad with grief, mad with desire, mad with energy! It pulsates in body, mind and spirit. The warrior spirit has awakened, not only in the external world, but in me. I too, I now realize, am a spiritual warrior, and it paints its full expression in the external, material reality we call life. I am dejected that I am too old to follow the way which the ready-to-explode youth will lead.

And the shame. I am overcome with great shame. I see all too clearly my human weaknesses, so many I blush crimson when I think of them. So useless, such a useless life I have lived. All for what? A few pleasures of sense, a health rosy and full, all is fine in the world. Until one day it occurs that it is not right, not true. Day and night, birth and death.  Death so skillfully out of sight, what was pain and cruelty in the distant past today is ease and plenty. What if, suddenly, it was swept away as if by a great flood, a flood of blood and warfare beyond comprehension. Then the laughter starts again and all goes quiet. 

"Life and death are inevitable. Heaven gives them the constancy of day and night. And we can't alter any of it - it all belongs to the very nature of things. If we honor heaven as our father and love it deeply, imagine honoring something that transcends heaven. If we honor a ruler as our sovereign and offer up our lives for him, imagine honoring something truer than any ruler."
Chuang Tzu

 

Kiwano, Mandarins and Tamarind

The Pink Angel has returned. 

At the beginning of the winter season the Pink Angel no longer made offerings at the wishing tree. The area surrounding the tree was fenced off from the public during much of this time so perhaps that had something to do with her absence. I missed her presence and also the blessings which her offerings conferred. I continued to make offerings during this time and I was glad that part of the Pink Angel's final offering of the autumn season was still intact - thick strips of cloth tied around the tree at the height of seven feet. Seeing the cloth reminds me of her presence and inspires me to continue visiting the tree. A few weeks ago two long stem red roses appeared at my feet while walking the beach and I decided to offer them to the wishing tree. Instead of placing the roses on the ground at the base of the tree I decided to secure them to the tree using the cloth strips. Each time I returned to the tree the two roses were surprisingly still intact and fresh with red petals and green leaves preserved. 

Two days ago, March 1, I woke at 3:30 am and thoughts of the Pink Angel appeared in my mind, revealing to me that she would be returning soon, so I decided to walk to the tree as the sun was rising. Upon arriving I saw that the Pink Angel had indeed returned. A fresh offering was at the base of the tree - a horned, orange kiwano, two mandarins, 10-15 brown tamarind pods and exotic, tiny red flowers which the strong winds had already begun to scatter. The two red roses were still attached to the strips of cloth. I made my usual mental offerings and then scattered rice among the fruit and flowers.

I returned to the tree yesterday as the sun was rising and with few clouds in the sky the sun was directly in my face rising low on the vast blue lake. I raised my hands to shield the bright morning light and in doing so my hands went into a triangle formation with the sun floating in the open space, the light shining directly onto my forehead, nourishing the golden flower. I recognized the famous occult symbol, the all-seeing eye and pyramid. The sphere and its rays resting snug inside the space between my hands, I noticed another symbol appearing, the sun cross. It occurred to me that sunrise on March 21, the vernal equinox, would be a day in which to experience immense sun power. I realized this could be one reason that special day holds important significance for the sun cults. 

The past week while on the westward pilgrim path I continued to make contact with the coyote master. Instead of a flesh and blood coyote the coyote master appeared on an outdoor wall mural which I had not seen or noticed prior to this week. Without consciously trying I daily passed the mural, I would be reciting Amitabha Buddha or gazing at the light and shadows of the day and then I would gaze upwards and see the bigger-than-life coyote master meditating on the wall. 

Walking the pilgrim path my mind is slowly gaining in powers which are called psychic. Along with materialization, I am now beginning to connect with things without physical speech or presence. I commune with birds and dogs in mind only which magnetizes them to my physical body and when they are pulled close there is a joyous energy which circulates between us. People appear surprised when their pet dog makes contact with my presence, and it surprises me, too.