true life planet

I arrived at the convent as soon as it opened, ate a few pastry, and waited to see what would be asked of me, I wondered. Would I have to scrub pots and pans? Perhaps more dishes loomed in my future…

I soon found out something different was in store for me, something..unexpected.

I was told to go to the nearby mountaintop(hilltop?) on the Camino route to the next village, and build a gaint cross. Also, I was supposed to clean up the place-trash and so on, and clear all the rocks away from the area of the site where the cross was supposed to be.

¨What will I build it out of ?¨, I asked.

¨Rocks-small tiny stones and boulders¨, was the reply.

¨How long will it take to build it ?¨, I asked.

¨You will know when you are finished¨, was the reply.

¨Where will I sleep? What if it rains? What if its too late to get a bed in a refuge? ¨, I asked.

¨Worry for nothing. For this act of faith, you will be provided for. A bed will be provided for you¨, was the reply.

The sweet faced nun gave me a box of cookies. ¨For the person who helps you tonight.¨, she said.

Feeling somewhat nervous, and not being especially experienced in cross building or boulder moving, I started out.

The area she had pointed to in the distance seemed far off. It turned out not to be all that far, except that it was agony on my ankle, and it was slow going. I finally got to the top and looked around.

Alto de Los Mostelares is a beautiful lookout point, and looks out on the most beautiful picture postcard like valley you could imagine. It´s a landscape of green grasses and it´s in every shade of green you can think of.

Someone had, at some point, made a garden on this spot, and it had become quite overgrown. Here and there, barely dististinguishable beneath tall blooming purple thistles, were benches and picnic tables. There was a long stone wall running along the edge of the garden, and several pilgrims sat there eating lunch.

I sat on a bench, and wondered where to start.

First, where was I supposed to build the cross? Was I supposed to build it in front of everyone?

This was something I hadn´t considered…I hadn´t considered there would be other pilgrims there. In a world where faith is ¨private¨and everyone ¨does their own thing¨, I wasn´t expecting to have to display faith so..publicly.

This sounds odd, coming from a believer, but, hey, you try building a giant cross for a day on a hill while 400 or so people look at you and then tell me how you feel when you started the task…

I found a good spot to build it-sort of facing the Camino actually, right by where pilgrims were walking by all day long.

And..walk by they did, all day long. I working at about 10 am, just cleaning up all the trash, which took almost and hour.( In fact, many of the pilgrims that stopped by there on there way left tins and trash behind them. This was in spite of having three trashcans right on the site. Another example of how we could all make the world slightly better  along the Camino, if we only picked up our trash.!)

After picking up trash, I had to move all of the rocks. This required braun I did not know I even had. It took about 2 hours to collect all the rocks and boulders. As I worked, many pilgrims eyed me curiously-and I think, somewhat nervously, as I was accumulating an enormous pile of small boulders and rocks. Maybe they thought I was on steriods or something…

The building of the cross itself took over 5 hours.The design I decided on was the traditional cross, but with a circle in the middle of the cross, divided into four parts. Each part had a different color of small stones, which I had to collect from the Camino itself and then sort out individually. This part was extremely time consuming, and I got quite tired scooping up the stones in the road and the sorting them out, bit by bit.

People could now see that a cross was forming. More and more people were walking by, often stopping and watching me work. I had  a sudden, tremendous breakthrough in myself by such a public act of faith. My spirit soared and I suddenly wasn´t tired anymore, just completely intent on the task at hand and making as beautiful as I could.

As the cross took shape, many people stopped and made comments. Evryone seemed to see something of themselves, of their experience, in the cross.

One woman came up and said, ¨It´s very Buddhist.¨

Another woman came up to the center and said, ¨It´s a mandala.¨

One couple came up and prayed over it.

No matter what anyone said or did, I said nothing, just smiled and nodded, and kept on working.

Finally, it got so late no one was walking by anymore. It was just me, on the hill, with this cross, an amazing act of faith for me. A statement of love and goodness and everything light in the world, coming to this spot.

I finally finished when it was almost dark. It began to rain. I started to have a few moments of worry-and then banished them from my mind. I had come this far, I needed to believe all would be well.

I started walking.

And walking.

And walking.

It got quite dark. I became very cold, it was wet and gloomy and raining, and there was not a shelter in sight. After walking slowly, gingerly, along for several hours, I began to consider looking for a cow shed and spending the night with some cows or sheep.

Suddenly, out of nowhere, I saw a refuge. At least, I thought it was a refuge. I walked up to the door of what seemed to be an enormous old church.

A man came to the door. ¨Come in, come in¨, he said.

¨Do you have a bed? ¨, I asked, half expecting him to say no.

¨Yes, you can have my bed¨, siad a man, a pilgrim, seated at a long table. ¨Thankyou for giving me the chance to give me your bed. You are the woman who was building the cross on the hill?¨, he asked.

Apparently, of the eight pilgrims staying there that night, almost all of them had seen me building  a cross on the hill on their way to this very refuge. They were, in fact, waiting for me, as this was the next closest place.

I gave the man, the pilgrim who gave up his bed, the box of cookies from the nun.

¨Why? ¨, he asked.

I told him how the nun had given me instructions that morning, to build the cross of the hill, and that for this act of faith I was not to worry about getting a bed for the night. I was told to give the cookies to whomever helped me that very night-and it was him.

The refuge was wonderful-they only had candlelight, and they had a long table, which they had me sit down at. They prepared a beautiful, simple supper of tomatoes in olive oil, bread, cheese, and wine. Someone massaged my shoulders; someone else cleaned my boots. I just sat there, contemplating the nun´s words, and realizing that she was right-I could not have been better rewarded.

It was discovered I had a fever-no doubt from walking in rain and cold and wet-and the woman in the bunk gave me some medicine and a cool towel for my forehead. Thruout the night, another woman (who was she?) kept rinsing the towel in cool water, and replacing it.

I was so completely moved, utterly moved by the whole experience that I have no more words for it. I think the entire day, the entire night, are probably the most spiritually amazing testaments to belief that I have ever experienced.

gigi

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