The Grounded Pilgrim:

Staying Grounded in the Time of the Coronavirus

A while ago, I wrote about how I came to see aspects of my border expedition as something like a pilgrimage. While my journey was not literally aimed at the Holy Land or a sacred site, it nevertheless touched on something I consider in the realm of the sacred: The land itself and the stories it holds, especially of the suffering caused by the border. And like a pilgrim, I was also at times asking for charity, not for money or for food but for people’s stories and memories. (More than once, my conversation partners also offered food, sometimes coffee, tea, or wine.) Occasionally, my path crossed one of the pilgrimage trails that criss-cross Europe, some of which connect with the Camino de Santiago in Spain.

Contemplating how pilgrimage relates to the “rest” of life is a worthwhile exercise for anyone, pilgrim or not. Meet guest blogger and Camino veteran Pat Rivers for her eloquent take (written just as COVID-19 reached Vermont) on the lessons a pilgrimage – even one cancelled because of the coronavirus – can offer for everyday life.

Staying Grounded in the Time of the Coronavirus

By Pat Rivers

In the few short days since I wrote about the decision to cancel our pilgrimage in Italy, things have quickly changed. First the pilgrimage paths were closed; late yesterday the government of Italy closed the entire country. How to even comprehend such a situation?

I am very aware what an enormous privilege it is to go abroad for weeks at a time and walk from one beautiful place to another, and my disappointment about letting go of this spring’s walk is minor. My thoughts keep turning to the people in Italy, the suffering and real hardship so many are enduring right now, and I pray for their relief and healing. 

Here in Vermont our first case of COVID19 was confirmed, and it is no doubt only a matter of days before more cases will be found. Everyone feels a sense of anxiety that seems entirely disconnected from the premature but welcome signs of spring that are everywhere – louder, earlier, and more varied birdsong, shoots of early perennials showing up on the southern sides of homes, children playing baseball and football in shorts. Not to mention, a lot of mud. 

With this sense of anxiety, I feel myself trying to gain some traction, looking for a path, a way to move through this time. How do I face this invisible threat, that in my life exists only on the TV screen and in my imagination, and stay grounded at the same time?

According to Merriam Webster’s dictionary, “grounded” means “mentally and emotionally stable, realistic, and sensible.” How do I access and maintain a grounded state of mind and heart when there is so much that is unknown and so little I can control?

For a few days, I operated with a belief that I could eliminate all risk and therefore all anxiety if I only planned carefully enough, stocked up on essentials and stayed home, followed every story and observed every recommendation. I would avoid the virus and not contribute to its spread among more vulnerable populations. It was my civic duty, I reasoned, and therefore absolutely right and unimpeachable. 

This might be true, and it’s probably not a bad idea. But after days of dedication to this course,  instead of feeling “mentally and emotionally stable,” I felt more anxiety. It seems I forgot about the “realistic” part of grounded. 

What is real is that this is a situation that will continue to change day by day, hour by hour, in ways that I cannot control or even imagine. I don’t like not being in control (even as I know that control is an illusion), but I know that no amount of canned goods or hand washing will give me true security.

I tried to prepare for every eventuality and possible obstacle on the Camino and still found myself confronted with risks, fear, and tough situations anyway. Now, on this “stay at home” pilgrimage, I hope to practice the lessons I learned on the Camino:  that the most important preparation is spiritual, and the most precious resource is the goodness, wisdom, and human decency of my fellow pilgrims.

Let me practice silence, prayer, and meditation daily. 

Let me pay homage to Mother Nature, whatever she is wearing for the day. 

Let me walk with friends and talk with them about what is truly in our hearts.

Let me be patient with myself and others when things are difficult.

Let me sing and laugh in the afternoon to lift my spirits.

Let me wash my hands and refrain from touching my face!

For more from Pat Rivers, visit her blog The Grounded Pilgrim: Living in the Spirit of the Camino.