Unexpected Pilgrimage

02 Feb 2025 Leave a comment

by Dr. Tricia Wolanin in Uncategorized Tags: , , , , , , ,

I am convinced that pilgrimage is still a bona fide spirit-renewing ritual. But I also believe in pilgrimage as a powerful metaphor for any journey with the purpose of finding something that matters deeply to the traveler. With a deepening of focus, keen prepartion, attention to the path below our feet, and respect for the destination at hand, it is possible to transform, even the most ordinary journey into a sacred journey, a pligrimage.

Phil Cousineau

            It didn’t start off as a pilgrimage.  Initially I was going to have a relaxing day in town, and opt for the local spa.  I heard there was an onsen (Japanese spa) that allowed one to have tattoos.  I asked the front desk of my hotel to confirm this and if there was availability.  The staff member queried how many tattoos I had. “Six” I replied, when really it was closer to 8.  He asked the question, then shook his head, I was informed tattoos were allowed, but the cap was 2.  I had been warned about hiding my tattoos in Japan, as it may be assumed I was part of a gang. I nodded my head, admitting slight frustration.  Out of my mouth, the next question that arose “are there any bicycles left to borrow?”  Yes, there were three currently for hotel guests to use.  I had to go somewhere on my day off.   I was going on an unexpected pilgrimage.

            In recent days I had explored what was reasonably close to the hotel, and had noted within 2.5 miles was Futenma Shrine.  This was a shrine built in the 1450s during the Ryuku era, and a US military base is located right next to it and a sacred cave underneath it.  My knowledge about the shrine was limited, but I was determined to see shrine while in Okinawa.  To walk to the Futenma Shrine would take nearly an hour, but one could reach it by bicycle in less than 20 minutes.  Although I had a tiny cold, I opted for the bicycle route.  How bad could 20 minutes be?

What I discovered was some of this route would be uphill, and the bike was a beach cruiser.  There were no gears, and I am not a bicycle afficionado.  And so the trek began.  Once I got outside of the main streets of Chatan, nobody was riding bicycles and there were few pedestrians, as I bicycled and escorted by bicycle around the perimeter of Camp Foster.  I gave myself verbal pep talks, that I could do this. I did the Camino, I got this, only one more mile to go. The projected 20 minute journey was closer to 40 minutes, as I followed google map’s route.  It encouraged me to get off my bike and walk uphill on a side road, which was blocked off by flags.  I circumvented this, and when I reached the top the plastic barrier was larger.  I crawled under this with my bike. 

            A staff member said in Japanese to park my bike where I was.  He probably also yelled at me for taking the side road that was covered with flags, discouraging entrance.  I smiled wiped off the sweat, bowed, hoping he would forgive this unknowing American.  My Japanese is minimal, but through motions we communicated. I began to walk towards the parking lot further uphill but was encouraged to go downhill to the entrance.  I followed the crowd.  This was a proper one day pilgrimage.  Sweat and effort to go to a holy place, not knowing what to expect, reliance on others, and oftentimes language barriers. 

Behold the beauty of the Shrine in front of me, but there was a separate area to the side where people were standing in line to purchase items.  Was there an entrance fee? Was it souvenirs or offerings? I noticed people cleaning their hands with water in a beautiful trough.  I followed what I saw.  I opted to go into a room where people were waiting, everything was in Japanese. I was the only English speaker there.  I asked a staff member if she spoke English, she did not but brought out another staff member.  I knew there was a cave below, I queried how to get to this.  “Write your name over there, wait, you will be escorted.”  I followed orders, and within a minute was escorted in Japanese with three other people to the cave downstairs. 

            No photos were allowed in this sacred space.  Although I longed to document this part of the journey, I didn’t want to disrespect the rules.  Prior to entering in a single file line, the staff member bowed deeply. We each took our turns bowing to this sacred symbol, we walked further and then bowed to the cave.  The staff member left us, and from what I understood we each had free time to wander the cave, pray, and be in this sacred space before the next scheduled group to arrive in 20 minutes.  There were small coin offerings in little nooks, and a small mini shrine in the front.  I always felt comfortable in caves, after living in Spain, and being able to visit them quite frequently.  Caves with stalagmites seem to offer a living breathing holy space, where silence is encouraged in the midst of the dark corners.  I admit I don’t know much about Shintoism.  I noticed one woman kneeling and praying to the small altar. When she was complete, I followed suit.  Internally I automatically I said the Hail Mary.  I didn’t know how to worship in the confines of this religion, and therefore I thanked the world and universe for having this opportunity to visit, for who is in my life, and for life.

            As my allotted time in the cave was ending, I explored what was upstairs.  There was an area to pay 100 yen (less than $1) and receive a fortune, and one stash were in English.  I paid the 100 yen and received an interesting fortune.  As I peaked into the shrine, individual groups of families entered and had time with a staff member, who played the drums and repeated prayers for them.  It seemed to be some type of honoring or blessing.  As the other visitors stood outside, we each took turns giving an offering.  One gives a small amount of money, bows and claps twice, then prays.  I was familiar with this, as the week prior when going to the Cherry Blossom festival and climbing and visiting a small shrine in the mountain, we were taught to do this. One seemed to do this individually, with one’s partner, or as a family. Throughout the shrine, there were fortunes hung and left behind.  If one doesn’t like the fortune you paid to receive, you could leave it there. I kept mine. It was too intriguing to leave behind. 

            I spent an hour at this shrine, and as I left there was a tiny drizzle.  I mounted my bike and walked it down the blocked off side road (like a rebel), and headed back.  Now the path was downhill, and the ride lasted 20 minutes.  As I sat on my beach cruiser in the rain, I was pleased I pushed myself to visit this site. I smiled as I rod the path, and it was an interesting feeling this unexpected pilgrimage I took by myself.  I barely spoke to anyone, as I do not speak Japanese, and had no friends or family with me. This was a memory that only I could recall in the future, as it was experienced only by me.  Mental note made to remember this moment.

            *I had researched afterwards the stories linked to this cave, to find out more check on the link below.  The following paragraph is taken from the accompanying website:

Megami.

Initially, the first deity is a female by the name Megami. The legend goes that two sisters used to reside in the Syuri area, one being of immeasurable beauty. This was Megami, but she was also pious and devout, locking herself away and dedicating her time to spiritual pursuits. Her younger sister married, and the husband became curious of the legendary beauty. One day, he decided to sneak a peak at Megami, who caught him. She was horrified, and fled from the house in hysterics, disappearing into the caves of Futenma, never to be seen again. Since then, she has become a divine being of the cave.

A Visit To The Futenma Shrine Caves

Reflections of a Black Madonna Pilgrimage

22 Jan 2024 Leave a comment

by Dr. Tricia Wolanin in Uncategorized Tags: , , , ,

“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

https://www.pbs.org/video/the-black-madonna-with-marisa-tomei-oACFDQ/

Returning Home Pilgrimage

03 Dec 2023 Leave a comment

by Dr. Tricia Wolanin in Uncategorized Tags: , , , , ,

This past week, when having a farewell coffee meetup with a friend, she said to me that this return home would be a pilgrimage.  Although I have visited America nearly annually, I haven’t lived here in 10 ½ years.  Those words “it’s a pilgrimage” repeated with me over the past 20 hour voyage home. 

I’ve been prepping to move back for nearly six months in some ways, and everyone has been asking me “how are you feeling?” In truth, so many emotions, but the final months with non-stop international and Spanish travel, visitors, or packing, I haven’t been able to process.  I can only be present to the next task ahead of me. 

“Life is like driving in the dark. Your headlights show you the 200 feet in front of you and as you move forward, the next 200 feet are shown to you. You don’t need to see the entire path in order to reach your destination.”-Jack Canfield

         On one of my last nights, as I lied in bed prepping to sleep, my thoughts began to ruminate over what all had to be done and I realized in that moment I had a choice.  I was making an international move with a pet, buying a condo, starting a new job, and shipping belongings.  I could choose anxiety and restless sleep or know that everything was already working out.  My question became,  “why wouldn’t it work out?”  All was unfolding and being divinely guided, I just had to trust and focus on the next task at hand.  Don’t focus on the larger picture but the next thing that was being asked from me.

         My friend Isabella reminded me I was fortunate enough to not be alone. She was right, as both her and my mother would be present to help make this journey possible.  I ordered a van from Uber the day prior, hoping it would fit the three of us and Bella and all of our luggages. We each had two check-in luggages, a carry on and personal item.  And it did.  As we made the Uber ride, I realized my carry on and personal item were over stuffed and I should pay additional money for my carry on, and buy another carry on to distribute the weight. I hoped in the van ride it would be comped, but was willing to pay.  Upon reaching the counter to check in at the gate, I informed the staff member of my luggage predicament. She looked at me, my belongings, and Bella in my backpack.  She told me this would be too expensive, and she grabbed the credit card machine.  “240 euros,” she said .  She then proceeded to say, “I’m doing this for the dog.” It was comped!  She happened to be a fellow dog owner, and had empathy for us. Perhaps she knew flying with a pet internationally was massive work. 

         With each little step, I repeated gratitude verbally and internally, like a mantra.  “Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.”  Everything was working out.  I definitely had to have a “pilgrimage” mindset during this.  For a short amount of time, physically and energetically I would have to be managing a lot. But I could do this.  I could harness my internal wonder woman as I embarked on this journey.  Having actually done the camino was helpful.  I reflected on the state I was in for those specified days.  I questioned at times what the heck I was doing walking so many kilometers, remind myself of the intention, and the fact that so many have walked that path before.  I also knew it was temporary and that magical things could happen to assist all peregrinos.  And so these flights would be a different camino.   It was fitting that the first film I watched on the extended journey would be The Camino, a Danish film that came out this past year.  https://www.imdb.com/title/tt24177444/

         I heard a quote once that “it ends as it begins.” And I thought of this as we flew from Malaga to Paris in the 2 hour journey, the city I lived in last year.  In the three hour layover, I felt horrible for Bella as there were no pet relief areas.  My mom bought her the cutest diaper skirt and diapers for the journey.  I walked her during this break, she lifted her leg and half peed in the diaper and a wall.   I grateful to have Isabella and my mom to assist me as I cleaned it up, and Bella made her own makeshift pet relief area.  I was so surprised and grateful that Bella had no accidents on the 10 ½ hour flight from Paris to Los Angeles.

         There was more relief and gratitude as my brother picked us up from LAX in a SUV, and had Filipino food waiting to feed us.  His girlfriend had spent days cleaning the house in preparation.  And we could finally breathe and rest. 

         In the past, embarking on a pilgrimage like this would have been overwhelming.  I would have somaticized the pain, cried at various stressful trigger points, and had ruminating thoughts of anxiety.  This is all okay if these emotions arise, I once did this. But for some reason this move was different.  I was present to what was at hand, had assistance from friends and family.  It could have been the frame of mind I was in, the pilgrimages I’ve done, or the hundreds of hours of meditation practice I have done over the years.  Perhaps it’s in these moments that the results of accumulated practice are culminated.  Calm surrender and trust that the Universe, our guides, God, strangers, and the path are all supporting you on this pilgrimage of life. And with that all, thank you for everyone who has supported me on this journey.  

My Current Life Courses

11 May 2023 Leave a comment

by Dr. Tricia Wolanin in Uncategorized Tags: , , , ,

“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? 

A Modern Pilgrimage

10 Feb 2023 Leave a comment

by Dr. Tricia Wolanin in Uncategorized Tags: , , , ,

Currently I am working on another blog www.amodernpilgrimage.com, which focuses on internal, external, and communal pilgrimages we take in today’s world.  In creating content for this blog, and accompanying pinterest and Instagram, I am sorting through old pilgrimages I have taken over the past 10 years. 

            There are so many forms of pilgrimage, not just religious or spiritual.  Pilgrimages can be food pilgrimages, art, nature, literature, internal journeys (such as silent retreats, meditation), or concerts in special locations.  Contemplation can exist in so many forms, and I want to remind people that in today’s world.  The primary essence of it is intention.  Intentional travel. 

            As I create reels from old photos and videos, I recall the moments I have spent over the years in foreign lands or even my homeland.  I am searching to create themes in these little vignettes.  This is a time where we have stopped printing pictures or creating tangible photo albums.  But for many of us these photos and videos exist in our phones.  They are resurrected in some ways with this project.  Some include individuals that are no longer in my life in the same capacity, even my beloved Puzo who died this past summer.  But we were all witnesses to each other’s life and are part of each other’s journey. 

            I recommend this practice for any of you to do.  Bring back those old memories to life.  These images do not have to be digitally dead in your phone, they can live on with a beautiful song to accompany it.  Author Anais Nin once said “We write to taste life twice, in the moment and in retrospection.”  Regardless if you are a writer or not, allow those sweet memories to be tasted twice.  And savor them. 

The End is Our Beginning

04 Sep 2022 Leave a comment

by Dr. Tricia Wolanin in Uncategorized Tags: , , , , , , , , , ,

            We had arrived in Santiago de Compostella, which is the endpoint for many people who choose to do the pilgrimage of Camino de Santiago.  The film The Way popularized this bucket list journey.  The most traditional path is to take the Camino Frances route, which begins in St-Jean-Pied-de-Port France, and then transitions into Spain through the Pyrenes mountains and traverses for 500 miles.  Generally, one needs to do at least 100 kilometers to receive a certificate of completion.  Regardless of how many miles one walks, generally the destination was our starting point.  

            It was our initial day in Spain, and we were beginning our journey at everyone’s end.  On our first night, we went into the Cathedral, that houses the remains of the apostle St. James.  For hundreds of years people have walked to this location for this specific purpose, to see where St. James lies.  It seemed taboo.  Had we earned the right to visit without yet putting on our walking shoes?  Our walking journey was to begin the next day, but we could take in the evening’s festivities of this celebrated town. 

            I am not new to the Spanish culture.  This was my 21st trip to Spain, and my second time embarking on this pilgrimage in Santiago.  Yet this time our route was to end in Finistere, also known as the end of the world.  It’s been said that this Celtic path predates the Catholic pilgrimage.  We were hopeful the exploration of the city that evening would massage out the kinks that occurred at the airport hours before.  We were lucky it did.  

            After securing a walking stick, a delicious meal of tapas and patatas bravas, a tasty pastry, and rations for the next day’s journey, we strolled the streets to see what the night would reveal.  The tourist shops had now closed, and it was solely bars that were open at this hour.  Then we stumbled onto an archway by the church.  It served more as a portal.  Generally during the day, a musician plays his bagpipe, demonstrating the Celtic traditions that still exude in this land of Galicia.  But at this hour, the bagpipes were packed away, and were replaced with an opera singer.  

I love most street performers.  They move an audience to stop the busy-ness of their lives and slow down, and simply take in the gift of music they are sharing.  The opera singer sang several popular opera songs, the crowd slowly started to build.  Then the tunes changed, and he began singing “My Way,” which generally isn’t my favorite song, as it reminds me of an American middle aged drunk man’s go to karaoke song, as a bar closes.  But there were other people in the audience that seemed to enjoy it.  A tiny group of three older people who looked as if they were tourists and friends had their arms around each other.  They swayed and sang.   The opera singer appreciated their immersive experience.  When it was time for the chorus, the opera singer pointed to the trio and allowed them to take the stage.  “I did it my way.”  People had stopped to sit on the steps, and observe this magical moment.  For a brief passing period of time, we were all connected.  I couldn’t help but cry witnessing this beautiful example of collective gratitude and mindfulness.  These were not tears of sadness or worry for my future.  These were tears of joy I was able to experience this moment of collective bliss.  

            Perhaps starting at the end wasn’t a bad decision.  It was how this journey was to begin.  We could harvest the beauty and love shared from the evening onto the next day’s 23 kilometer trek.  I couldn’t wait to see what was next in store.