The church we visited yesterday is sending a group of young people and their advisers on a pilgrimage this coming Saturday. They will be gone for a couple of weeks, visiting the Sioux/Lakota people in South Dakota. Yesterday the priest, on behalf of the people of the congregation, commissioned the pilgrims and presented them with a symbolic gift to assist them on their journey.
In her homily, the priest reminded the congregation of the sacredness of pilgrimage, an ancient practice which predates Christianity but which has become a revered act of piety for devout Christians. She made a point which started my writer’s mind spinning: there are two aspects of pilgrimage, the going and the experiencing. (my words, not hers)
What she was saying is:
- pilgrimage takes you to a place which is considered sacred. It may be an ancient holy place, such as a burial location for a saint, or a location where something very holy took place.
- pilgrimage involves the act of travel, and the travel is, in itself, a holy act.
In September, 2001, we went to the World Trade Center after the planes had struck the towers and destroyed them. Being there and assisting the men and women engaged in search and recovery was a powerful spiritual moment for us. But the act of traveling there and winding our way through barricades, being fitted with breathing apparatus, and feeling the pressure in our hearts as we approached the site was as significant as the work we did there. I’ve been on numerous spiritual pilgrimages, but none more powerful than that one.
It occurred to me yesterday, while participating in the act of commissioning the young pilgrims, that writing is a pilgrimage. It, too, has two parts to it:
- the writing process
- the product created
I’ve been experimenting with writing my daily post the night before and scheduling the publishing date and time so that it goes up on the blog at a specific time on the next day. It means that I can write at a reasonable time, rather than arising at 3:30 or 4:00 in the morning to do my writing. It is more efficient, and it doesn’t interrupt my sleep patterns (something one has to think about as age creeps up on them.)
Unfortunately, in being more efficient I also lose something very special about the writing process. There is something awesome about using my cell phone as a flashlight to find my way to the laptop and tapping out the message in the dark, wee hours of the approaching day. For some reason, the early morning hours have a sacred character to them which assists me in my writing, so I came back to my laptop at 3:30 this morning and find myself energized by the hour and the darkness around me. I know it is overly-dramatic of me to say so, but there is a sense of being in a womb, awaiting the moment of birth. What could be more creative? (I’m sure there will be times when it makes sense to write in advance, but I think I’m hooked on the early morning experience as a norm.)
The product of this writing pilgrimage seems fresher. It doesn’t feel as “practiced,” if you know what I mean. The words feel more original, more authentic. When I am finished writing I punch in “preview” and read through the post for the day. I am amazed at how new it seems to me, almost as if I haven’t written it, but that I am a reader, having just logged in and am reading it for the first time. There is something unique about the finished product which I didn’t experience in the process of writing it. Conversely, there is something unique and exciting about the writing process which is absent in the reading of the post.
It may be blasphemous for me to equate the writing process to that of spiritual pilgrimage. I don’t think so, but someone may find it disturbing. I’ll bet there are writers who know exactly what I mean, however. I’m sure it isn’t unique to me.
Definition Credit: Dictionary.com
Photo Credit: Tom Wood
