true life planet

¨I don´t know what your destiny will be, but one thing I do know: the only ones among you who will be truly happy are those who have sought and have found how to serve.¨- Albert Schweitzer

I was very blessed at the start of my trip to take part in a book trade at one of refugios-I traded  a book about the lives of the Saints for a book on the life of Albert Schweitzer.

I´ve been lugging this book around with me, from refugio to refugio, up and down mountains, reading it in cafes and on park benches, for over a month. Although I had heard of him, I didn´t know much about him or his life before reading this particular book.

This book has changed my life. Why? I´m not quite sure, except to say that I feel that he is speaking to me thru this book-his life was one of devotion and service, of selflessness and real love. He was the sort of person that I aspire to be. He´s goodness.

I think the quote above is my favorite quote of his. He had much to say on the subject of service-that is, what it means to truly be of service to others. At the same time, he had an understanding of human nature-what we are up against in ourselves-to truly become a person of service in the world. He had some circumstances that forced him to confront himself -and, once he confronted himself, he was able to give up himself for the sake of humanity. He was able to be compassionate towards people who were cruel towards him, and he went beyond himself to do so.

I´ve been really confronted on the Camino by myself-by the self imposed limits I have put on myself. There are limits from society as well-such as one´s job, finances, relationships, family-but, if you think about it, these are all limits that we accept. We are a bit uncomfortable going against the grain.

I think one thing the Camino does(and I´ve mentioned this before) is it calls into question how we think about life and why we think the way we do. Being on the Camino..makes one realize that most limits are self imposed. We really can decide to do it differently, to play by different rules entirely. We buy into what our culture tells us-that this is the sort of life to strive for, that this is the definition of a romantic relationship, that this is what we really want.

Meanwhile, we are somewhat lost. We spend our entire lives in jobs we don´t like, working for a retirement we may not be able to enjoy. We neglect our dreams, we avoid looking at our own possibilities, at our dreams…not realizing it is possible to have the dream and happiness, too.

I´m thinking about things so much differently. There are many things , many dreams, that I wanted for my life when I was younger that I let fall by the wayside. I listened to my own fears, and also let myself be influenced by the fears of others. I  was too afraid to design my own life, to use and appreciate all the gifts God has given to me.

I started out my journey, knowing that it was going to be designed not solely around traveling from place to place, but around the concept of being free to lead a life of service and to be useful to others less fortunate than myself, thruout the entire world, for three years. I limited this time of service to three years! I think this is because I was fearful to truly devote my entire life to the service of others-it was much easier to compartmentalize in and say it was only for three years.

This fear, of the unknown, of the idea of truly giving one´s entire life, truly giving one´s own life up, is the thing that stops many people from becoming the great humanitarians they could be. Fear-it keeps us selfish and small-minded. At least, this is what it did to me.

Perhaps what I´m saying doesn´t ring true for you..but, according to Albert, this is the problem we are all confronted with-and it is the primary thing in the way of leading as life of service.

For some reason-perhaps it is the magic of the Camino-I´ve really been feeling as though my life is headed down a completely different path. I feel not only will the next few years of my life be about serving those less fortunate than myself-but that my entire life will be devoted to service. Many of the things that were keeping me from this life change were within myself-and many were outside of me.

Albert said that ¨¨We are afraid to truly be of service because we are afraid of suffering.¨

The truth in that statement is profound-think about it: we are afraid to be of service because we are afraid we will suffer. I think we are worried that if we don´t keep something for ourselves, we will be suffering. But one thing I have learned is that if we give away everything we think we need, we are able to fully recieve everything that comes our way. It´s us that gets in the way of ourselves. There is such freedom in letting go.

Once I am done with my trip around the world, I have made a commitment-a firm commitment-to devote myself to poor and needy people, for the rest of my life.

I can attest to the extreme satisfaction I have felt in letting go of whatever I have felt I needed, and letting God who needs those things, my talents, or my energies the most. Working with the Ngobe in Panama-a poor indigenous tribe- changed my life, and it was the beginning of this decision to have a life designed around the specific goal of service. The Camino has taken this experience, this seed that was planted, and taken a step further…to a place with no fears, but only the realization that helping others is the most satisfying expression of what is good in the world.

Here are some ways I have decided to help others in the world upon my return to the USA:

1. I´ve decided to start a truly eucumenical prayer group for women: everyone included, from Catholic to Buddhist to Jewish..to whatever…because it is this division between us that keeps us from God and in being compassionate for our fellow man(and woman!).

2. I´ve decided to continue doing some of the volunteer work I was doing before I left-most importantly, English lessons for illegal immigrants from Mexico.

3. I´ve decided to grow a very large garden and consume as little of packaged goods as possible, and educating people in the USA about how our consumer culture is having a drastic impact on the world´s resources.

4. I´ve decided to become a leader of a Girl scout troop.

5. I´ve decided to create a website on volunteerism-one that specifically addresses some of the problems one faces when volunteering, and how to find a good volunteer opportunity.

6. I´ve decided to start my own non profit organization, to specifically help the Ngobe of Panama(and perhaps other indigenous groups I meet along the way), and make this employment my primary employment.

7. I´ve decided to write a book on my trip around the world, with a focus on living  a life of service and the spiritual and life lessons I have learned.

8. I´ve decided to adopt a child, one with a disability, or who is a bit older, or not easily adoptable-because, after living with some of the poorest people in the world, and seeing the lack of opportunities for women and children(in particular children who have some kind of physical disability)-I can clearly see that this is way I can change not just one life, but the entire world. Many cultures in the world kill children that are not ¨perfect¨, due to the fact that it is not culturally acceptable. Western culture does the same thing-we have ¨throwaway¨culture, even when it comes to human beings. (I am specifically to the way we treat disabled people in our culture).

9. I have decided to live on less, and make a firm commitment to live a simple life, unencumbered by ¨stuff¨. You can´t take it with you-living out of a backpack for months on end has taught me that!

10. I am making a firm commitment to do whatever it takes to make the world a better place, to end poverty thruout the world, specifically: to improve the lives of poor woman and children thruout the world.

Well, I´d better get started..I´m going to be 40 in August, so I´ve only got 40 years left to get all that done!

Once again, I thank the Camino..the Camino, for me, has become a living, breathing thing that  has shown me a new way to live.

gigi

If anyone out there has suffered or suffers from panic attacks, you know how awful and all-consuming they can be.

For those of you who don´t suffer from them, count your blessings.

I myself have been suffering from panic attacks most of my life, since I was a teenager.

When I began my around-the-world trip back in October, I was at a point in my life when I was experiencing them almost daily. I would get them often because of stresses in my life, and the way I dealt with stress and stressful situations.

As I have been traveling, they have been happening less and less frequently. I still have stressful situations(probably more of them!) but the way I´m handling the stress is drastically changing. I find myself noticing what triggers them, and while I´m not avoiding these situations , I´m not inviting them to be a part of my journey either.

Being the Camino has a been a tremendous time of reflection for me. Without the distractions of one´s life, and all that that entails, one can actually take a break from the demands of others and oneself..and really examine one´s soul, what moves one, what one needs. There are not the distractions of one´s job, one´s house, one´s loved ones, one´s friends, one´s social status. All of those things are still there, but they aren´t the thing that is defining you-what is defining you is only that next step.

I have found the Camino to be a wonderful training ground for the rest of my life. It seems to be full of opportunities to grow, to develop, to know oneself. It is an equally good opportunity to set boundaries with people you meet along the way.

Many people that I have met along the way I like very much; while others, quite frankly, pressed some button, or bothered me in some way. Defining who I am in these circumstances-what limits I want to have with others-is an exercise I am not terribly familiar with in my daily life.

I am, in general, a people pleaser. I take it personally when others are not happy, and even more personally when they are not happy with me.

Recently, a situation from home was conveyed to me in an email. The situation itself is not particualrly important-what is of more interest, is that I reacted to it, violently, and had a terrible panic attack.

This panic really surprised me, as I have been having less and less of this kind of response to stress-especially as I have been traveling in some very stressful situations.(Like, for example..on a chicken bus in Guatemala, at night; sick with Dengue fever in the middle of nowhere; bitten by a dog and having to give myself stitches as no hospital..and so on)

At any rate, the attack was so strong, I thought I was having a heart attack. It was so painful, and so all consuming.  I had to go back within myself and remember that I am learning how to deal with stress differently, that I get to decide how I am going to respond to any situation that comes my way. I had to go back and think about how I have learned to set some very clear boundaries while on the Camino itself. I had to breathe.

The panic attack ended.

In the past, I would have been very hard on myself that I had panicked-but instead, this time, I am grateful. It reminds me of how far I have come, and how much I owe all the people I have met along the Camino, for they have taught me many lessons and shown me that the Camino itself is a wonderful teacher. I have learned so much about myself in this short period of time; this daily walking and musing and thinking-and in the end, knowing.

The amazing thing about traveling in general(not just on the Camino, but any traveling), is that one has the chance, the amazing chance, to recreate onself. Real recreation.

In my old life (which I liked well enough, but…) I didn´t have this chance, this opportunity to really take my life as it actually was, and pluck out the parts that I wanted to keep, while tossing out the rest. There isn´t that choice in day to day life. When we change drastically, it upsets everyone. It upsets the balance. People have a need for sameness, even when it´s not healthy, or perhaps not practical.

Being on the road has taught me that I really do get to recreate myself, recreate my entire life-I literally get to decide what will happen next. Such freedom.

And the person I am recreating myself to be-she´s peaceful, and she´s free.

It´s wonderful. And I thank the Camino for helping see this possibility in myself.

gigi

Hey, I know…there are plenty of lists out there, telling you what to pack, and so on.

This is a different kind of list…

Top Ten Things Not To Bring On The Camino de Santiago:

1. The idea that you are going to be doing it alone. You are not. Be prepared for the challenge of a lifetime, as you will now be sharing your personal space-and the Camino itself-with hundreds of other people who think they are going to be doing it alone too.

2. A Timetable. Oh, my goodness. How many people have I seen wandering around the refuges in the evenings, fretting becasue they are running behind on their timetable. This applies mostly to people trying to do the whole thing, not one stage of the journey. I say, get done what you can and for once in your life, be content with the results.

3. A Competitive Attitude. Um..if this is you(and you know who you are), please don´t come do the Camino. Please. It´s great if you can walk 45 kilometers in one day, but..that´s not really the point here. I would suggest you try some mediation first and mellow out, then do the Camino.

4. A lack of Spanish skills. One thing my many new Spanish friends have told me is that they don´t understand why people come to their country and then don´t even speak a word of Spanish. Please, learn a few, just a few. You will find you have a better experience and that the Spanish people will warm up to you so much more. You may find yourself recieving invitations to do outragegeous things(as I have) which is so much more fun than actually walking and getting anywhere. Come to think of it, set aside a few days with the express purpose of getting nowhere at all. You´ll enjoy it tremendously, and, as an added plus, when you actually get somewhere, you´ll have good stories to tell at the pilgrim dinners.

5. A lack of mindfulness towards the environment. How many pilgrims have I seen, littering all over the place? Smoking and throwing their stubs on the ground? Eating and tossing the wrappers on the Camino itself? Hey, who is supposed to pick up all that trash, anyway?How many hundreds-no thousands-of plastic bottles litter the path? Perhaps you might consider picking up others peoples trash as you walk rather than adding to it. Just a thought.

6. Bad manners. Remember the words thankyou and please, and be gracious to everyone who helps you-especially at the refuges. Those people are working hard to help you have a wonderful Camino, the least you can do is thank them, fold up your blanket when you leave and wipe down the bathroom sink when you are done.

7. Modesty. Oh yes, you´ll be sharing your personal space with hundreds of other people, as I said. did I mention that also includes the bathroom? the shower? and guess what? As an added plus, most of the time, it´s coed-sometimes even with the added joy of open stalls. You also get to change your clothes in front of everyone, as everyone else is doing it too, and you´ll all pretend like you are not looking at the other person and that you are thinking about something else entirely. Practice at home first.

8. Small black bikini underwear. Guys, this one is for you. I have noticed a great number of men outfitted in these, hanging out in them-no, lounging in them, in the refuges. They seem to appear mid afternoon, and no pants appear to cover them up until dinner time. It is hard for me to talk to you if I am in the bottom bunk, and you are standing there with your parts scantily encased in a bit a of black fabric at my eyelevel. Please, take note.

9. A hankering for vegetables. Um, yes, well, good luck. It´s slim pickings on many parts of the Camino. The new magic word for you, the thing that will sustain you, is a called a bocadillo, and it´s sort of an enormous amount of bread paired with a few thin slices of ham or cheese. Unless you are very rich, in which case you will have a mini van meet you at each stop with a nice picnic lunch.

10. Judging people who take a tour or take  a bus harshly-including yourself. Hey, when did you get to decide what makes a Camino a Camino or not? In the rest of your life, you are a pretty easy going person, let´s not start getting all righteous(or self defeating) now. The fact is, it´s still a Camino, even when it´s by tourist bus or whatever. One woman actually apologized to me at Arroyo san Bol, as she got off the bus. ¨I´m not a real pilgrim¨, she said. ¨You´re not?¨, I said. Of course she was a real pilgrim. and, I found out later, she was on that bus because she was recovering from cancer. So think about what you say and how you judge others.

gigi

Ok, ok.

The fact is, I´ve run terribly behind in the blog. So, what I´ve decided to do is this: tell you what happened in the last 20 villages in this one entry:

So, I:

Got robbed of: most of my underwear, a bra, my toiletries, and cash

Ran out of money, bank card stopped working for some reason

Got really depressed

Cried alot

Slept alot in a cold room in a convent, prayed alot

Was pretty hungry

Bank card worked again

Ate alot

Talked with a man who was doing the Camino for his mother, who had recently died, and was very angry at the greed of his brothers and sisters about the way they handled her possessions(his point of view). I suggested that perhaps he could let go of the idea that he will get anything of his mothers, and perhaps just let go. He cried, and we went off and shared a bottle of very nice wine.

Talked to a very nice man from Israel, we also shared a bottle of wine on  a park bench.

Talked to another man who wanted to leave his wife, even though he was in love with her he did not find it so interesting. I told him how I thought love was the only thing that made my life interesting.Wine was shared…he called his wife, while I sat there. It had a very happy ending.

Decided I was drinking too much wine(although this is a hard one, becasue I am in Spain, and that is what they do here. you go into a bar/cafe at 9 am, and the mother who just took the kids to school is drinking a glass of wine!)

Walked thru alot of villages

Looked at alot of falling down adobe structures

Looked at alot of falling down adobe structures some more

Visited tons of churches

Talked and walked with many pilgrims, some I liked a lot, others, not so much. Decided walking alone is the best.

Hurt a Don Juan in the groin, which was very effective

Ordered a salad and it came with more meat than I have ever been served in one sitting in my entire life, and I decided right then and there that I really, really need to be a vegetarian

Got chased by two dogs

Ran out of water and got pretty dehydrated on the Meseta-some prayer here, too

Had lunch with a farmer and his family: a lovely lunch of asparagus and strawberries from their garden

Got a tour of a secret underground tunnel in a village leading to the church

Decided that I miss white mens underwear and boxers after being faced with night after night of looking at men, usually over 60, and for some reason, mostly German, walking around in black bikini briefs for hours on end(someone explain this phenomenon, please). This may become an obsession unless someone can send in an answer. The particular issue is a cause for many interesting conversations over pilgrim dinners-someone is always bringing it up…

Didn´t sleep for nights on end due to snorers and very annoying people who insist on getting out the door at 6 am in the refuges

Gave up doing any laundry in the refuges, as it was raining and raining and raining and nothing would dry anyway

Got my first blister(not bad, it took awhile)

Spent alot of time thinking about God.

Spent alot of time thinking about how I haven´t done the things I wanted to do in my life-in the past-because I was (a) worried what other people would think about it; (b) worried that I would lose someone I loved over it

Spent alot of time thinking about the nature of love, what it is, and what it means to love

Spent an entire week thinking about adopting a special needs child sometime in the next 5 years, in spite of fears over (a) what people would think about it and (b) fears of losing someone over it (c) what my family would think about it and how they would handle it or what they might say or advise about it…and decided that this idea of adoption would be a good expression of love. Decided I would be a good parent. Left the idea there, in the back of my mind, to develop a bit more.

Realized that I can do many things at once: in spite of the fact that our Western culture teaches us differnetly on this subject.  We learn that you can have this-but if you do, then you can´t have that, or if you have both one will suffer. But it is possible to have many things at once..and have a relaxing, tranquil life at the same time.

Stopped worrying entirely about what anyone thinks about anything I do. Pretty much have stopped worrying. If I do it with love, it´s simple.

Arrived in Leon, exhausted, with my feet not responding to commands anymore-and therefore, I decided to stay in a cheap hotel, which has been a wonderful, relaxing experience. An actual bathtub!

And now, the blog is up to date!

gigi

Last off, I was spending a feverish night in the care of the folks at the Hospital de San Nicholas, a refuge that is run by the Italian Confraternity.

In the morning, over big cups of steaming hot coffee and as much bread and jam as we could eat, I spent some time getting to know about the Confraternity. They are an amazing group of people, who volunteer their time, their vacations, to come work at the refuge and be in the service of pilgrims. The refuge truly was the the spirit of the Camino.

My ankle was still not much improved, and we decided that they would drrive me to the next village, where they had some friends that ran a private refuge where I could stay as long as I liked.

The refuge turned out to be in Boadilla del Camino, and was run by a Brazilian family, who took me in like a bird with a broken wing (albiet, a large bird!).

The refuge was located on the edge of town, and stood under the shadow of an enormous, fortress like church. Inside the refuge walls, there was a beautiful garden..endless cuips of coffee..pilgrims basking in the sun…

While outside the refuge lay the somewhat ominous and somewhat deserted town of Boadilla del Camino. I got tired of laying around in paradise (it happens), so I decided to poke my head around in the village and see the sights.

There were none.

The church was locked, and only open on Sunday, for a brief 40 minutes when a priest visited to hold the mass.

The streets were empty, no little old ladies walking around with little dogs; no sheepherders; no mothers with their children; no cars, even. There were no shops, no bars, and no businesses of any kind.

The houses were caving in, abandoned, broken down, everyone had moved out or away.

All this at first glance. As other pilgrims came and went, they all said pretty much the same thing-that the place was deserted.

I started taking more walks everyday, and as the ankle improved, so did my impressions of what actually was in the town.

In fact, it kind of..came to life.

There began to be many things that I had not noticed on first glance.

A lace curtain fluttering in  a window. The sound of soft opera music coming from behind a doorway. A peek of a huge vegetable garden from in between the slats of a fence. And, I realized, that the town, in it´s own quiet way, was alive-and that people were there, living as they had always lived, behind tall adobe walls and gates and shutters.

The entire community seemed to be living a very private life, away from the eyes of the pilgrims walking thru their streets. I began to see the residents of the town, now and again, as they would show up in the street for a moment and then disappear around the corner. Every evening I would take a stroll, and see the same man sitting on top of a round adobe pigeon house, facing the sunset. I saw the women come out of their houses when the fruit truck arrived, or when the fish man came, all clustered together, sitting on park benches and waiting their turn.

The pilgrims who came into the refuge would say to me that there was nothing to see…but, there was.

It is too bad that the part of our culture that rushes thru life and demands on being entertained has carried over into something like the Camino; because here, for the first time in many people´s lives, is the chance to slow down, to savor, to see life differently.

I stayed for so long in Boadilla de Camino, that the staff began to make jokes that I was just there for the food(particially true!).

 However, another reason that I stayed on, is that it just seemd like..the right thing to do at the time. Everyday, different pilgrims would start talking to me about their lives-sad stories, stories of heartache, stories of hurt, stories of greatness, stories of every kind. I felt as if each of these people were supposed to have met me, and for some reason, share with me these intimate details of their lives.

I happened to be in the village on a Sunday, and so was able to go to the Mass with the villagers. To be inside the church was wonderous-it was extraordinarily beautiful. There were only about 20 or so villagers and me(and the priest), and the Sunday happened to fall on Corpus Christi, which made the service  particularly beautiful-it included a procession and much singing of hymns that they apparently do not normally sing.

Unfortunately, the service was interrrupted by a busload of tourists, who came in, talked, and actually took photos of the preist and of the villagers in the pews! This was terrible, and I sank in my seat, with embarrassment, I was so ashamed of the tourists. (I think they were pilgrims, actually, but they were behaving like tourists so I will use that word here..) The priest, the villagers, they said nothing, but kept on with the service, but you could tell they were very uncomfortable.

After the service, the priest quickly ushered everyone outside and locked the door. the villagers-a few of them-gave me a quick nod and then went back to their houses,behind the high walls, with the locked gates.

One very old man stayed behind. ¨Do you see why we keep our church locked?¨, he asked me.¨

¨Yes.¨, I said. ¨I do.¨

I walked back to the refuge, glad I had not taken any photos of the inside of the church.

It seemed to me that the church-the whole town in fact-belonged to the people who lived there, just them, as it always had.

 I understood in that moment their secrecy, their need for privacy, their need for this beautiful-one of the most beautiful on the Camino-churches to be just for them.

gigi

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

To pick up where I left off two entries ago…

I spent the next morning delivering beer and Coca Cola in a delivery truck.

How this happened is somewhat difficult to explain exactly; Or, rather, what I mean to say is such interesting things as this happen to me often in my travels. I often find myself having totally different adventures than everyone else-perhaps because I am open to whatever the day brings.

What happened is this: I awoke in the morning, completely exhausted. The snorers had outdone themselves the night before and sleep came and went. When I got up in the morning, I decided to go find a cup of coffee.

I went into a coffeeshop, and a local man who turned out to be a carpenter struck up a conversation with me. I explained I had to hang around his village for a few days, due to ankle problems..and said I wished I could see some of the nearby villages. He offered up his cousin, who apparently was delivering beer and sodas to Caseljeriz and all of the surrounding villages. A call was made, and before I knew it, I was in the front seat of the cab, between two very nice and extremely conversational Spanish men(one of whom was his cousin).

Due to the fact walking was difficult, I didn´t actually get to unload any beer from the truck. My job was instead, to smile alot and hand the owners of the bars and or tiny shops a clipboard to sign that the delivery was made. Then, we all drank coffee. By the end of the morning, I was so highly caffienated I had to switch to orange juice.

By about 1 oclock, I had seen what there was to see-churches(old, falling down); houses(old, falling down); alot of sheep; alot of sheepherders; alot of trucks of sheep manure; and, huge packs of sheepherding dogs.

I told them that I wanted to go to Mass in Caseljeriz, so they stopped a woman riding by on her bicycle and asked her if there was going to be a Mass. It turned out that there was none. There was going to be a Rosary, though, and did I want to go to that?

The Rosary was going to be at the same church that currently held a big exhibit of Mary art. It turned out the woman on the bicycle worked there. In fact, she was the only person in town who had the key to the church, other than the priest. Great. So, I got dropped off at the church, she opened the door and let me in.

There was a charge to see the artwork, but she didn´t charge me. She said that this was because I was coming to the Rosary. Apparently, they never have pilgrims at the Rosary. This is too bad-they are really missing out, as I would come to find out.

Anyway, I walked around the museum-which was interesting, sort of an erratic collection of Mary things-from paintings to sculpture to odds and ends. The place was freezing cold, and I was sort of jogging in place to keep warm. That´s when I began to notice the beautiful poems, all with a Mary theme, on the walls.

Here´s one(it´s in Spanish of course. English won´t do the poem justice, I am sorry):

Mesaje de Dios te traigo

El te saluda, Maria,

Pues Dios se prendo de ti,

y Dios es Dios de alegria.

LLena de gracia te llamo

Porque la gracia te llena;

Si mas te pudiera dar,

Mucha mas gracia te diera.

El Senor esta contigo,

Aun mas que tu estas con Dios;

Tu carne ya es tu carne,

Tu sangre es para dos.

Y bendita vas a ser

Entre todas las mujeres,

Pues, si eres madre de todos

Quien podria no quererte?

-Frederico Garcia Lorca

The whole place was full of poetry. I spent the entire rest of the day there, writing it all down, and talking with the caretaker about the place. While we were talking, many pilgrims came in. Some took the time to look around, while others just asked for the stamp and left. One woman pilgrim spent almost one hour looking at one statue and praying. One man came in and left awhile later, wiping tears from his eyes. One couple came in and talked so loud you´d have thought they were in a stadium. One man came in and walked into the museum without paying(it was one euro)..He told the caretaker that he,¨would look around first and see if it was worth it¨!

The Rosary was awesome. The whole place filled up with tiny village women, all dressed dark sweaters of navy or grey with heavy coats. All the women had the same haircut (short and practical) and the same length skirts( just past the knee). One sprightly woman wore a daringly red scarf. I felt quite wild in my orange tshirt.

The Rosary was literally the fastest Rosary I´ve ever heard-it literally lasted all of 15 or 20 minutes. I have never heard anyone speak Spanish so quickly-there were two women in particular who everyone seemed striving to keep up with. I gasped at their seemingly nonstop manner of prayer-the moment the priest paused, they were already at it. I gave up saying anything and instead looked at the artwork.

After they said the Rosary, they did something spectacular-something I have never seen. All of the village women stood up and began to sing Ave Maria. Thankfully, this was not done at a high speed, but at a slow, measured pace which I could keep up with. Then as they sang, they formed a procession-with me in it-and we all proceeded to walk around the chapel three times, singing Ave Maria. God, was it beautiful. (Although I´m sure it looked interesting to anyone watching-me, 20 or so tiny round village women!Oh, and the priest-let´s not forget him-he was there, too!).

After the Rosary,  a few of the women came up to me and introduced themselves. I got invited for coffee to one woman´s house, which turned into dinner, which turned into dessert….and what a dessert it was…

It was some sort of creamy, insanely delicious pastry, the color of clouds, with this creamy filling that tasted of vanilla and almonds. When I took one bite I thought I had died and gone to heaven. It was that good. It did not even seem like it could be food.

It turned out that the pastry was made by the local convent of St. Clare nuns-and that they actually sold the pastry every morning. My new friends told me to go the following morning, and sample to my heart´s content.

I looked at my watch..it was late! I had to get back to the refuge, or I would be late for my dishwashing duties. I said goodbye, promised to visit the convent the very next day, and went back to the refuge.

The next morning, I went to the convent as soon as it opened.

One walks thru the town to get to it, and then once there, one walks thru these beautiful doors into a sweet courtyard, where there is an old well(used by pilgrims in the past) and benches and so on. There is a little door to go thru to buy the pastry, and there is a case showing all of the different kinds, all featured on little plates, with little carefully lettered signs telling there names. It turns out the pastry I had had the night before was ¨St. Francis of the Assisi¨ pastry.

I found a buzzer, and pushed it. I waited…. seemingly, nothing happened. I sort of heard a mumble, but I could not discern from where. I hesitated, and then pushed it again. Again, the same mumble, but no sign of life.

Then a woman´s voice said, ¨Open the door.¨

Which door? There were two. There was a sort of little cupboard door, and then a big door. I was stuck between trying to decide which door to open, when the large door opened, and the sweetest, most beautiful nun came out, beaming at me.

She was probably about 70 years old, but she was ageless. She had a beautiful face, very rosy mouth, and was wearing a just past the knee habit of blueish grey, with an white apron over it. (Just looking at her, in fact, made me want to be a nun-at least temporarily.)

I was thinking, ¨Uh oh. Now I am in trouble. Now I´ve done it. I´ve seen one of them. Now what to do? What do I say?¨ (The Order of St. Clare nuns is a cloistered order-which means they don´t go out into the world-nor are they allowed to be seen by people in the world.)

The nun, still looking at me with a very kindly expression, said, ¨Are you Gigi?¨

And I,  astonished, thinking I was having one of those God-moments when angels sing at any moment and trumpets are heard and so on, whispered, ¨Yes.¨

And then she smiled even wider, and said, ¨Good. I´ve been expecting you.¨

And I thought to myself, at any moment trumpets will sound, angels will appear…

And she said, ¨They told me you would come today. The women in the village.¨

And I, smiling like an idiot, said (quite weakly, as up to this point I was thinking she might levitate or something, and was somewhat confused), ¨Ah..yes.¨

And then she said, ¨Well. Come in, come in!¨

And in I went. ( It turns out the Order of St. Clares-at least some of them-can be seen by women. Yet again, another opportunity happens traveling  for me because I am a woman that would never happen for a man. Interesting.)

I spent most of the afternoon there. What transpired while I was there was of the most private, spiritual nature, so I won´t share it here. But I will say that I tried alot of pastry-alot. And I will be making those heavenly pastry of St. Francis when I return to the States, because they are something that everyone I know should try at least once.

As evening approached, I told her I had to go. My dishwashing duties were about to begin.(Note to self: Do not volunteer for dishwashing duty three nights in a row in the future.)

She told me to come back tomarrow, on my way out of town. There was something she wanted me to do, she said.

¨Ok, I´ll come back in the morning¨, I said, and happy, full of pastry, cookies, and cakes, I walked down the road back to the refuge, thinking what a perfect day. I had really gotten into the village groove.

It´s days like this that make me see my injury as a blessing-I mean, who would have thought? So yet another lesson from the Camino: It´s not what happens to me that is all that important, it´s my attitude about it. And..my attitude is one of optimism, absolutely shining optimism. I think it may be because of this attitude that such wonderful experiences are coming my way, everyday.

¨Coming Up Next: ¨An Act Of Faith at Alto de Mostelares¨

gigi

I´m a bit behind with blog entries, but in the meantime, here´s a quick one on what is on my mind today…

Just a quick entry here..on something that my Camino has given me much time to think about.

The Camino has been, so far, a revelation for me about everything in my life-from my spiritual life to dealing with having physical limitations.

However, what has been most apparent in my time on the Camino is the changes I see in myself in practicing graciousness and gratitude-both with others on the road, and with people in my own life. There is something in me, in my character, that wants things to be equally good for everyone. For life to be equally sweet, full of pleasures, love, and kindnesses.

I´ve come to realize that part of the path we are each on is partly of our own choosing. We often make poor choices and then are unhappy with the poor results. Having an attitude of graciousness and gratitude can take a poor choice and make it something lovely and something to be thankful for.

So many people in the world are truly suffering-dealing with terrible circumstances (some of which I´ve managed to witness firsthand in Central America), and yet many people complain and find fault with others about circumstances which are of their own doing, or perhaps the other person can´t help what they are doing. I do this myself, all the time. It´s a nasty habit, and sometimes it´s easier to keep our bad habits than learn a new way of doing things, which might be hard or uncomfortable. Other people hurt us, or perhaps inconvience us, but sometimes, they can´t help it.

Sometimes I wish everyone in the world would be sent to live with some truly poverty stricken people somewhere in the world for a year, and then return to their old lives. They would have their eyes wide open, and be so much more appreciative of what they have, of the people in their lives, of the mere fact that they are alive …

Being on the Camino has made this very real for me-from dealing with people complaining about the smallest of inconviences, to hearing people complain about one another, or their partner they left behind at home while they are on the Camino.

I had lunch with a woman whose boyfriend kept calling her on her cell phone while she was on the road. He called about three times during the picnic lunch alone.It was really irritating her. She then shared that he had recently recovered completely from cancer..I told her,¨ Wow, you are so lucky you get calls from him everyday. You should call him and thank him.¨

Two days later, I saw her on the road . ¨ I called him, she said. We decided I´m going home. What do you think?¨, she asked me.

¨I think it´s perfect¨, I said.

I am so thankful for those who love me, and that I have people to love. Such an opportunity for giving, for kindness, for love.

I myself am learning to practice gratitude and graciousness in some unexpected ways. I was recently robbed of all of my money (as well as my shampoo, my underwear, my bras!) in a refuge. I then tried to use my bank card and it didn´t work. I had no money for two days. They also took all of my food-granoila bars and so on-so I was hungry to boot. Luckily, a monastery let me stay for two days while I waited for money.

In the interim, I emailed a few friends, my boyfriend, my ex husband..I went off on a rant, saying how much a was disliking the Camino. About what a terrible experience I was having.

And do you know what? Almost every person replied with concern, with love, with kindness. How I am growing to appreciate you all, especially you, Jerry (my boyfriend) on this journey. I am grateful for you and all the love you send my way. Due to the flood of emails I recieved, my spirits revived, and here I am today, finding myself in love with the Camino all over again.

So, a special thankyou to each and every one of you who kept me going in spite of what turned out to be solely a few days inconvience. You are all with me on my Camino. and I am grateful to you all.

And a special thankyou to Jerry….So Jerry, this is to say, you are perfect. Perfect. Thanks for all your love.

Gigi

I showed up in Caseljeriz in the late afternnoon, and my ankle was needing a rest-a long one. I walked into the village knowing I would have to spend at least a two or three days there(am I on the slowest Camino in the world or what?).

I found a private refuge, and offered them the possibility of helping out around the place for a few days instead of paying. We agreed to exchange a bed and dinner for two nights with two nights of dishwashing.

Although it was privately owned, the managers running the place were new to their jobs, and they seemed glad for the extra help.

They told me to come back to the diningroom at the dinner hour, and after I had eaten dinner, I could wash dishes in the kitchen for an hour.

I took my backpack to the enormous dormitory, and settled in on the only bottom bunk left in the place. As soon as I was settled in, an enormous, very drunk man took a mattress of a top bunk and threw it onto the floor, unfortunately-right next to my bed.

I could not rest or nap becasue he kept talking to me, asking my name over and over again. he finally passed out and I covered him with the blanket from my bed, figuring he would wake up pretty cold in the middle of the night.

After I brief rest, I made my way to the diningroom, where it was complete chaos. The wife seemed to be the only person taking orders, cooking, and serving (I get the distinct sense from a few weeks travel in Spain that most Spanish men do not know how to cook!). The woman was a nervous wreck, as were some of the pilgrims.

Her stress seemed to waft out of the kitchen, causing many of the pilgrims to drink copious amounts of cheap red wine(the only thing we had on the tables at the time). Wine has a way of loosening tongues, and what follows are three of the conversations I had that evening at three different tables…

Table One: Characters are a Danish couple, who are on their second bottle of wine, and me.

Danish woman: ¨Where are you from?¨

Me: ¨The United States.¨

Danish woman:¨I thought you were German or Swiss.¨

Me: (thinking of the many times people have asked me if I am German so far on this trip, no doubt because 99% of the people on the Camino are from Germany…), ¨No, I´m American¨

Danish Woman:(gulping down more wine..) ¨Are you sure you are an American? You don´t look like an American.¨

Me: (having the sense we are about to go down a bad road..),¨Yes..I mean I´m as sure as one could be about such things…¨

Danish Woman: ¨I don´t eat with Americans. My son is in America, right now, and I told him that he had better not come back with an American wife.¨

Me: ¨May I ask why you don´t like Americans? Is it..our politics? Is it Iraq? Is it Britney Spears?¨

Danish Woman: ¨It is this: I went there on vacation two years ago-I wnet with my daughter, she wanted to go there on a holiday.
It was terrible, just terrible. You American, you love your rules. It´s rules, rules, rules, all the time. You have rules for everything. There are rules about where to go and when and how to get there and what to do when you are there too.
I went into an office, and they had all these ropes. There were all these people waiting. you know, behind the ropes. But I didn´t need to wait, I only needed to speak with someone at the counter for a few minutes about my problem, so I went to the front ofg the line. I had to squeeze past everyone, they would not let me thru.
I got to the front, past the ropes. And you Americans!-You told me to go to the end of the line! You Americans, you and your rules!¨(drinks more wine..husband is absently doing a crossword and paying no attention whatsoever to his wife´s rant)..

Me: ¨You mean to say, you had to wait your turn?¨

Danish Woman: ¨Yes. Exactly! Such rules!¨

Seeing that the conversation was slowly edging downhill, and not wanting to end up in argument, I wished her a good Camino and switched tables.

Table Two: Characters are aman from Africa, making love with his eyes to a somewhat ambivelent Danish woman; A loud Swiss woman, wearing an equally loud, tropical print sundress, who laughed at everything any one said and seemed like an extremely happy person(or perhaps it was just the wine?); and a Dutch Reformed minister, who kept bursting out into song, mostly opera…oh, and me.

They were almost done eating when I sat down.

I sat down somewhat cautiously, wondering if I should pretend I was from Germany or Finland…and I asked, ¨Do you mind sitting with an American?¨

Swiss Woman: ¨Oh, we thought you were German or Swiss.¨

African Man: ¨Who´s it going to be, Obama or Hilary?¨

Danish Woman: ¨Do you want some wine?¨

Retired Minister: ¨Dance with me-you are so tall, I think we should dance.¨(Breaks into song..)

It went on like this for about 10 more minutes, when the stressed out wife running the place came over and said she needed the table for other guests. Unfortunately, they needed my chair also, so I was invited to sit with Table No. 3.

Table Three: Such characters thes guys were..there were eight men, two men from Austria that spoke not a word of English(or Spanish), and seemed somewhat mild mannered; Two Don Juan types, who knows where they were from-but they spoke Spanish, so-probably Spain!; two Germans; and two guys from Sardinia…..and me, of course.

Me: ¨Thankyou for offering me a chair at your table.¨

Don Juan No.1: ¨Anything for you.¨

Don Juan No. 2: ¨Give her wine, she needs wine!¨

German Man No. 1: ¨Are you German?¨

German Man No. 2: ¨No, she is Swiss!¨

Sardinian Man No 1: ¨I walked 45 kilometers today…¨

Sardinian Man No. 2: ¨He is the best, the very best,he is the King of the Camino.¨

Don Juan No. 2: ¨Where did you come from? You are like a dream.¨

German Man: (to me) ¨How far did you walk today?¨

Me: ¨I walked ..about..10 kilometers, I think.¨

Sardinian man No. 1: ¨This is impossible. Impossible. She is joking. i have never heard of such a thing.¨

Me: ¨No, really, I hurt my ankle at the start, and so I´m taking it slowly. Very slowly.¨

Don Juan No 1: ¨This is terrible. A travesty. A shame. Your Camino is over with, I´m afraid, my dear.¨

Don Juan No. 2: ¨I could stay here awhile with you…..¨

German Man No 2: ¨You are missing the best of the Camino. It is a sport, it is for the fastest, the best. You have lost the game, you have lost the Camino…¨

Sardinian Man No 1: ¨You will never see Santiago. You will never get there. ¨

Me: ¨But, It´s not important to get there. The journey of the Camino is within.¨

Sardinian Man No 1: ¨What about the Compostela? Don´t you want the Compostella?¨

Me: ¨No-it´s not really all that important to me. The Camino is within. I don´t need a piece of paper to say I was here. ¨

Sardinian Man No 1: (looking at me with a somewhat dubious expression) ¨I don´t understand this woman! ¨

German Man No 2:¨You are missing it, the point of the Camino. The Compostella is the point. Your Camino is nothing if you don´t get it. You should go to the pharmacy and get some good painkillers so you can walk faster…¨

Me: ¨Well , maybe the Compostella is important for your Camino, but it is not important for my Camino. each person has their own Camino. Don´t you feel like you all are going so fast that you are missing out on some interesting experiences?¨

Sardinian Man No 2: ¨Like what?¨

Me: ¨Like..going ginto churches…like eating lunch with the locals..like looking at the landscape..¨

Sardinian Man No 2: ¨But..what do you do all day? I don´t understand.¨

Me: ¨I stop, I look around, and everytime I want to stop, I do. I´m having a wonderful time, in fact.¨

Sardinian Man No 2: ¨Who has time for such things?¨

Me: ¨Oh, I´m sorry. I guess you have to go back to work?¨

Sardinian Man No 2: ¨No, I´m retired. ¨

Don Juan No 1: ¨This woman, I think she is in love with the Camino! Such love!¨( He reaches over and squeezes my hand…I intentionally spill my glass of wine on to his lap..)

Me: ¨Oh, I´m so sorry! let me go get a towel for you!¨(And with that, I excused myself and my dishwashing duties..which lasted about 3 hours!)

(It´s interesting the characters you meet on the Camino. Some you just never forget, and others you wish you could forget from the moment you meet them. )

I go back to the dormitory. The enormous man who is still quite drunk has woken up, he is whispering to me. He knows he is drunk and seems to feel somewhat embarrassed and foolish.

He whispers, ¨They told me you gave me your blanket. Thank you, that is so kind..¨

I tuck in the blanket around his feet.

¨Shhhhh…¨, I say. ¨Go back to sleep. Dream of your Camino.¨

And to the chorus of people snoring, we both fell fast asleep.

gigi

Next: ¨Caseljeriz, Part Two: I Get Into The Village Groove.¨

Francisco is a Knight of the Templar, a rather different Catholic order of brothers devoted to service. He is currently the Knight who is running the Arroyo San Bol refuge along the Camino de Santiago route.

Meeting him, talking with him, and just being around him, has turned out to be a real turning point in my spiritual life.

I asked him if I could interview him for my blog, and he agreed, as long as I made clear at the beginning of the interview that everything he is, everything he does, is for God; and that it is not him doing what he does, but God working thru him.

This interview was conducted May 19th, 2008, at the Arroyo San Bol refuge, sitting around the kitchen table after a delicious dinner.

Thankyou to Alejandro(I do not know your last name) who was a guest at the refuge, and who made this interview possible with the help of his translation skills.

Question:

What is your name, and how long have you been at the Arroyo San Bol refuge?

My name is Francisco Javier Gil Mayor, and I was sent by God to this refuge 4 days ago.

 Question:

Have you walked the Camino yourself?

Yes, I walked it. It was a ..very personal journey for me. I can not talk about it to anyone, except to say that I walked with nothing, I walked with no money for three months, and God provided for me, he provided everything. I became a Knight of the Templar at the end of my journey. The Camino changed me, my life-well, it is not my life, it is for the purpose of serving others now.

Question: How did you come to be here?

Well, as I said, God.

But before this, I was at another refuge, the Casa in Marajin. I worked there for quite awhile, building it, improving it-and when I was done, God told me to come to this place.

Question:

So, let´s talk about your order, the Knights of the Templar. What exactly is a Knight of the Templar? Are you monks, or ????

The Knights are a Catholic order-we are a brotherhood.

This is what we are:

1. The heart of God.

2. The heart of service.

We are not monks; we have two knights on a horse on our insignia, to show the importance of duality. We are the only order, the only brotherhood, who believes in this importance of duality. We are not monks, we are able to have a companion for our life if that is what God wishes for us.

The duality of human nature is what we express in our insignia: the black/white; the yin/yang; the light of God/the dark of evil.  Man is not meant to go at his life alone-he is meant to have the fullest expression of love, of light, of service. This is why we usually work in pairs.This is our expression of our humanity.

Question:

Are you paid for your work?

(Laughs) yes, I am paid by the Knights of the Templar. I am provided for. But, I often use my own money to buy the food for the pilgrims, to make improvements. The money is not for my use-it is for God.

Question:

What do you think God wants you to do with this place?

1. He wants me to create a place of spiritual and physical rest for passing pilgrims. This is very important, as there is are not many refuges where you can really rest.

2. He wants me to repair the place, with the help of those who he sends to me.

3. He wants me to build a place of worship, a temple made using the old ways of the past, in this place, so that pilgrims passing can be with God in a holy place.

Question:

How long do you think you will be here?

God sent me a message that I will be here for ten years, that I will run this place for ten years…. after that, I do not know.

My contract is with God, it is not with any other human being. Only God knows.

Question:

How do you live day to day, in these circumstances, never knowing..what will happen?

That is a good question. I live much differently than most people, I live simply. It doesn´t bother me to not know what is next, becasue I know I will be provided for.

The pilgrims donate money to the refuge; I eat what the pilgrims eat, I prepare the food and I eat with them. I have no other needs, anything else that I need, God provides for me.

God brings the pilgrims here that are supposed to be here-that is how the Camino works. There is never any worry. Why worry? God will take care of everything. If God wants something, He will provide for it. It is very simple.

The plan for the temple here-well, I have no idea how that will happen. I have no idea where the money will come from, I really do not know. But, I have no doubt, I have complete faith.

This week we are going to begin to build a few bathrooms here-we need them!(Laughs) But, I have no idea where the money will come from. But, we will begin our work and God will provide. That is how it works.

Question:

What would you say to people who struggle to believe, who struggle even with the idea of faith?

It is normal to struggle-this is a part of the duality of our nature. We all must go thru times of unbelief, in order to have times of belief.

God is like a candle. We take our anger at the world, at bad things that have happened to us, and this is like a covering over the candle. (takes a cup from th table and covers a burning candle..)

But, our anger, our hurts, they never extinguish God, they never extinguish the possibility of belief. (Uncovers the candle with the cup, and it is still burning brightly..)

The road to belief in God is a difficult journey. People need to understand this, to accept this, to simply know they are on a journey-their own journey. God, the light of the world, the candle, is waiting for them at the end of the road.

Question:

What would you say to people that have difficulty understanding how you can devote your entire life to the service of others? What about your own needs?

First, I want for nothing. I have everything I could possibly want. Material things, these things get in the way of God.

Second, the secret of life is that we are all eternal, and if we work for the light (God, goodness), we become the light. We are the light of the world, and our light shines before all.

Any last words?

Nothing for us, everything for God.

Well said. What a wonderful example of how to live a life of service.

gigi