A Progressing Pilgrim
Just by existing we have to take from the world. There is no way around that. And, sometimes, we recognize that those small or big holes that we make in the world need tending. While we may do our best to tend them, or to try to fill them, the debt could never be fully paid or resolved. If that is true, what unintended impact do we bring to new places where we don’t happen to live? How can we wonder more, and not deny or aggrandize the impact of our footsteps? How did it come to be that there is such a strong tendency in this dominant Western culture towards making something foreign or far away “sacred” or “special” instead of seeing the beauty in our own backyards? These are some of the questions we explore in this article. For those of you who are new here, or haven’t opened a newsletter in a bit: I’m HeatherAsh, and I’ve been helping Matthew with some of the writing of these weekly Primal Derma musings as he continues to recover from brain surgery. Broadly this newsletter is dedicated to tracking meaning and beauty making, and looking at some approaches to maybe moving more slowly and mindfully in our relationship with the living world, past and present with a mind toward what might look like a future. Last month we created our first joint writing: Cherry Blossoms and the Sweep of Time. This month we ponder pilgrimage. Some context: Matthew has lived in five places in his lifetime, all in New York minus one year of college in Maryland. He is rooted like an oak tree into the bedrock, and his home is a sanctuary for many friends near and far. HeatherAsh has lived in over 50 places in her lifetime, grew up in Southeast Asia moving every two years, and while she has land she stewards in New Mexico, she is on the road each year for months at a time. We started our conversation around a recent walk Ash did to the El Sanctuario de Chimayo in New Mexico. Each year over 30,000 people walk to Chimayo over the Easter weekend, some as far as 100 miles away, in what is the largest pilgrimage in the United States. Each year more and more people are flying into New Mexico to take part in the pilgrimage to Chimayo. Why the pilgrimage to Chimayo? This land by the Rio Santa Cruz was always considered sacred to the Tewa people of this place. From the Los Angeles Times, April 13, 2023: The Santuario was built by Don Bernardo Abeyta, a member of the Penitente Brothers, a Catholic lay order once known for extreme acts of penance including self-flagellation. According to legend, in 1810 Abeyta saw a light shining on a hill. He investigated and found a crucifix sticking out of the ground where the holy dirt sits today. He took the crucifix to a nearby church. By dawn it was gone and back on the hill. This happened three times. Convinced he was witnessing something miraculous, Abeyta built a small chapel on the spot. In 1813, a shrine was constructed and dedicated to Christ of Esquipulas, a pilgrimage site in Guatemala said to have healing clay. Over the centuries many miracles have been attributed to the dirt from Chimayo; there is an entire room now filled with crutches, petitions, and letters of thanks. During the Vietnam War soldiers from New Mexico started pledging that if they survived they would pilgrimage to Chimayo to give their thanks. And so today many vets take part in the pilgrimage. Others walk in memory of those who have passed. Some walk to give thanks. Some walk to take the healing dirt back to their family. Some walk as a form of prayer. Some walk because it seems a novel thing to do. As more and more people visit the tiny village of Chimayo, additional buildings, stores, chapels, and even a statue of a goddess from Vietnam expanded outward. This expanding building is part of the wake of pilgrimage that arrives before any devotee gets their feet on the road. |