“Because when they looked at her, it occurred to them for the first time in their lives that what’s divine can come in dark skin. You see, everybody needs a God who looks like them, Lily.”-Secret Life of Bees, Sue Monk Kidd
A PBS episode that recently aired that highlighted the beauty of the Black Madonna in Italy. It was a great refresher in having the emotions stirred within about the essence of pilgrimage. Earlier this summer, I went on a pilgrimage with Alessandra Belloni (featured in the PBS special) to visit multiple Black Madonnas in Italy. It was beautiful to witness the devotees that pray, sing, and dance to Her. I observed people having a 1:1 relationship with Her, and it was a reflection of the potential of my relationship with Her.
I’ve been living in America the past six weeks, one hour outside of Los Angeles. Although it is not a busy town, there’s still a fast pace to the American lifestyle of capitalism, consumerism, and hustling to survive. I am surrounded by people who are talking of the struggles of surviving, let alone thriving. It’s easy to lose focus of your values, when you are staying so busy simply to keep up. But watching this episode was a reminder of how my life was earlier this year. There is an importance of slowing down and dropping into the sacred. This is what pilgrimage does.
We may not be able to be on pilgrimage all year. And I’m curious that high could be sustained if it was perpetual. Perhaps we need moments from the peak to recognize the importance and beauty of the sacred. The return in our everyday lives is the challenge to sustain the transformation felt within on pilgrimage, while at home. We may no longer be surrounded by fellow pilgrims, holy shrines, or celebrations that ignite a sense of awe, but can the power of the pilgrimage outshine the monotony and stressors of regular life> Can we stay moved and uplifted, although people around us may want to complain of everyday sorrows?
This is the challenge.
The two, the hero and his ultimate god, the seeker and the found, are thus understood as the outside and the inside of a single, self-mirrored mystery, which is identical with the mystery of the manifest world. The great deed of the supreme hero is to come to the knowledge of this unity in multiplicity and then to make it know.-Joseph Campbell
I pilgrimaged to the Black Madonna in Einsiedeln today. I originally was travelling to Zurich in order to visit the small country of Lichtenstein. Then, I realized, there was a Black Madonna here that Carl Jung previously visited and wrote about. It was the Black Madonna that was closest in distance to him, and therefore he wrote about Her. Upon hearing this, I knew where my next pilgrimage would be to. But the journey actually began the week prior.
I had just returned home from a group pilgrimage to the Black Madonna in Italy. I had messaged to confirm with someone I hired from an online app in regards to my dog’s upcoming stay with her. But she cancelled last minute. I struggled to find a new sitter during the height of summer, searching both online and in person. I made numerous requests, including to a friend that lived in Paris who I offered to fly out to Spain. Eventually, prayers were answered. Someone who attended my sound healing class, Manuella, offered to watch Bella. Hearing this meant the world to me.
In this moment, I noted this is where I need to invest in community. I realize being somewhat nomadic, I develop loads of acquaintances but minimal friends. What I truly need at times like these are friends, and having someone offer was so heartfelt. Manuella had come to multiple sound baths, and felt various forms of healing that occurred from then. Although she didn’t state this, I felt she actually was paying back the favor in watching Bella. She was just driving back from France, her home country, the same day I dropped off Bella. Words couldn’t describe how precious and impactful this was. I realized this dog sitting component and numerous other factors all lined up for this to happen. The ease of the train ride, having an entire row to myself on the plane, waking up to my lipstick on my hand in the shape of a heart, having free wifi (since my mobile network isn’t functioning), and the ability to feel safe in a foreign land like Switzerland.
My pilgrimage to Einsiedeln may have been one day long but included walks, a plane ride, and train rides (one that had three transfers). I got minimal sleep due to an early flight, late dog drop off the night prior, and a bit of travel stress that prevented me from falling asleep promptly. On an extended train layover, I opted to get a pretzel baguette filled with curry falafel. The concept of this meal didn’t make sense, numerous cultures hodgepodged together in one sandwich. I hopped on the train and ate this delicious cultural mystery. It was so tasty, and now I had the souvenir of the curry smell all over me.
As I arrived in Einsiedeln, I wasn’t exactly sure how to get to the Abbey. I stepped off the train, walked into the quaint picturesque Swiss town and stumbled into a hiking clothing store. The worker greeted me in German, and I showed her a screenshot I took of the Einsiedeln Abbey. “How do I get here?” I asked. I spoke no German, she walked outside with me to show me where to go so I wouldn’t be confused. I was curious how far would this be. She pointed left and she said, “It’s easy, easy, easy. You walk 1 ½ minutes and you are right there.” I laughed. It wasn’t what I expected. Why step out of the store to show me the directions of where to walk for a 1 minute journey? But I deeply appreciated it. It was as if she was a guide who magically appeared reminding me, “You are almost there” or “It’s only as hard as you make it out to be.”
I finally arrived at the Abbey. The smell of flowers in a mini casita that surrounded her was poignant. The excess of flowers and Her gorgeous sparkly blue gown must have been from the Assumption only one week before. It was apparent that I must have really smelled like curry, which was juxtaposed to the heavenly floral scent. I kneeled in front of the Black Madonna, felt welcomed curry and all, and I cried. I internally heard her say to me, “It’s okay. You can relax now.”
I don’t know if this “relax” statement was in regards to the numerous modes of transportation I endured for the day, the struggle of finding a sitter for Bella, or for receiving word that I had gotten a new dream job the week prior, the culmination of seeing 7 Black Madonnas the preceeding weeks. The smells of the flowers brought back reminders of the floral scents in wakes and funeral of loved ones I have lost. This Black Madonna was different than others. She had round cheeks, felt sweet, regal, and was inclusive of the knowledge and wisdom that both my Ninang and Lola had, and one day my grandmother, mother, and maybe me. I cried and felt held.
The Black Madonna looked as if she was the Queen of the Sea and the Night, in her flashy blue sparkly dress. Her attire changes dependent on what the staff members choose to dress her in for the occasion. I felt lucky that I was visiting in what seemed to be a celebratory occasion. Time passed as I observed Her, and I felt a tiny tension headache arising. I heard Her say to me, “Take care of yourself and come back. Don’t be greedy, let other people have time with me.” These are words mothers would say, the truth laced with sweet kindness and unconditional love. Take care of my needs, which included drinking water and taking bathroom break, buy some souvenirs and come back. This is what I did.
I am learning to have a different experience with Her this past month. It’s different than the past, of just thinking of problems or things I want when I visit a new church or see another Black Madonna. It’s as if I was putting an order in the universe. Now as I sat in front of her, I tried to listen to my body. How did my body feel in Her presence? What was being said? What images or intuitive hits am I receiving? I generally ensure I sit as close to her as possible, and take time to journal in front of her to note all that is arising.
If I really listened, I began to discern how each Black Madonna has a different feeling. Her facial expressions are different and what She stands for is different. The energy She commands and the people that are devotees of her are all different. But it’s taken solitude and inquiry to explore what is truly arising in this moment.
As I left the church, a little Indian boy grabbed my hand, as I walked past a café. His parents laughed and apologized for him. I am not sure what he saw in me. The gold I wore that was shiny and flashy, something playful in my youthful walk, someone brown in a sea of whiteness therefore I looked familiar. I too laughed it off, but was curious what did he know, what did he see? Maybe he was someone who simply wanted to share his joy for that moment, with a stranger.
I write this now in a café, accessing some free wifi, and another stranger is kind enough to let me use her charger (as I brought the wrong kind). She was Albanian, living in Italy, and staying with her family in Zurich. She offered this, when she saw me struggling trying one usb charger after another on the whole floor of this coffee shop. She said, “we all need to charge our devices.” It was another reminder that we are here to support each other on this journey of life, whether it’s a passing stranger offering a usb, a young boy giving a gentle nudge of the hand, store worker going out of her way to give directions, or an acquaintance offering to watch your dog. Oftentimes we see how we give to the world, but how often do we see how the world gives back to us?
If I continue to have a soft gaze as I interact with the world today, I will notice the grace that arises in my interactions with all that I meet. I will see the connection all of us have, and the longing for something more. There’s a sense of gratitude as I engage with the world, knowing I am supported by the Black Madonna, all travel guides, angels, and the kindness of strangers.
“Anyone who stops learning is old, whether at twenty or eighty. Anyone who keeps learning stays young.”
― Henry Ford
This week, I found myself enrolled in 3 courses, facilitating 1, and have paused 1. No, I’m not a graduate student. I am a 44 year old female who is transitioning out of my field of being a clinical psychologist and stepping into the unknown world of creating my own path. Although I received my doctorate nearly 20 years ago, I am continuously learning. I realize in the past my learning was about the attainment of a degree. I took various classes that would afford me a spot in college, then graduate school, then the right internship. After getting my license in clinical psychology and having full time employment, it was all about getting certificates in everything from hypnosis, reiki, sound healing, EMDR, executive coaching, labyrinth facilitation, Internal Family Systems, Gottman trained marital therapy, Diversity and Inclusion, 500 hour yoga certificates. The list goes on, and although I admit initially I did it because my jobs had so much funding in ongoing education and continuing credits, I maxed it out annually. Today I have no job, and find myself seeking more knowledge.
But now I have the freedom to choose, without a job paying for it, what am I enrolled in?
A course about the Black Madonna by Dr. Christena Cleveland. It’s described as a virtual pilgrimage to explore how the Dark Divine Mother can heal and help us, and how we can view ourselves as sacred. It’s taught by a female social psychologist and theologian.
Another course I am getting psychology credit for is Self-Compassion, a class created by Dr. Kristen Neff, a clinical psychologist. This includes Buddhist and mindfulness principles as a way to make friends and care for ourselves.
In the midst of this, I signed up for a pilgrimage course e-course by Phil Cousineau who is a filmmaker, mythologist, and retreat facilitator. He previously was mentored by my favorite mythologist Joseph Campbell and therefore this class is focused on how to be intentional with each trip we take and facilitate these types of reflective spiritual inquires when leading others.
The course I am facilitating, which I seem to do annually, is The Artist Way by Julia Cameron. This is all about reclaiming our creativity, and although I facilitate it, I also participate in it and the majority of the exercises. My only class on pause, due to scheduling, is Flamenco , taught by a local Malguena in complete Spanish.
Black Madonna, Pilgrimage, Compassion, Art, and a tad of Flamenco.
If I were to capture who I am right now in five classes this would be it. But the thing is, I am not doing these classes right now to check them off a list. I want to embed the lessons in my body. It’s the integration that takes time.
What classes in life are you currently enrolled in? How would you sum up who you are in five classes?
It Only Takes A Smile 