…..since I wrote a blog. Why?

a.) I was on a pilgrimage to Fatima, Portugal, and then to Santiago de Compostela.

b.) I’ve been on a self-care regimen that includes physical therapy for runner’s knee, chiropractic care, routine check-ups, and the like.

c.) I’ve been feeling somewhat dumbfounded by the world events, yet unsurprised.

d.) I’ve been listening to that indwelling spirit and being silent…so to speak.

About the pilgrimage, let me share a draft of my latest work to be published by the end of the year:

Sadie’s head has been all over the place since she returned from her pilgrimages to Fatima, Portugal, and Santiago de Compostela, Spain.  Wanting to write and forget about everything else, she has been inundated with earthly duties, and her physical energy has lagged.  Yet this morning, she carves out a few minutes to write.  Just write even if there is no rhyme or reason.

Her sister Mary Ellen was emotional when a few days ago, she called her and said, “My heart is still at Santiago, sistaafriend.”

Immediately, Sadie empathized with her because she, too, had left a piece of her heart at St. James Cathedral, where she had confessed to the Catholic priest. There had been a freeing and a catharsis that didn’t make sense until the following morning when she shared her revealing dream with her sister and then earlier today with her BFF. 

“Get some holy water and anoint yourself with it,” Armonia told her, “You’ve experienced cleansing and freedom from past hurts!”

“And that I will do,” she responds, smiling.

(Sadie had not confessed to a priest since her First Communion sacrament when she was 10.) Sure, daily as she meditates, she talks to Jesus and confesses her worries, fears, and anxieties, but a “true” confession she had not made since childhood.

Some moments in life cannot be erased, and talking one-on-one with that priest at Santiago is one for her. Sadie could not take her eyes off him, and it wasn’t until later that she realized why. While listening to Sadie, his gentle gaze reminded her of her father lovingly looking into her eyes without judgment. 

When they visited Fatima earlier that week, that feather falling close to her feet during the rosary was not a coincidence. She was convinced her brother Mike was their guardian angel as they walked about the Virgin’s apparition grounds and the Basilica.

I’m excited that the actual writing of A Tale of One Love Many Worlds is almost completed, and the final edits will begin shortly. My trip to Portugal and Spain catapulted me to a new level of freedom that I knew I already had.

As for the self-care regimen, I encourage everybody to do so. While it’s important to help others, we must put ourselves before them, if you know what I mean. Just this morning, I received a random text from an acquaintance I hadn’t seen on social media for a while. In it, she told me that she had had a rough two years: battling colon cancer, which she beat, and then proceeded to tell me that she would be undergoing surgery for breast cancer.

“Oh my,” was my initial reaction. Then I texted her back and told her we would lift her in prayers and that she would beat that “bastard,” as she called it.

As for the world events and most importantly, here at home, even though I’m pretty open-minded, I cannot wrap my head around the vitriol some people are spewing towards President Trump. Can you? We live in a society where our freedom of speech was threatened during the previous administration, and now that our conservative values and laws are enforced, some liberals are up in arms!

Being silent and contemplating life’s pilgrimage and the reasons for my existence, I continue on an inward path towards enlightenment. It isn’t easy in a world where people thrive on reactions, when triggers abound, and when one’s character is assassinated for one’s beliefs.

Still, I will continue to live my life holding on to Jesus’ right hand. He, too, got upset at the temple, didn’t he? He, too, kept walking and dusted his feet. He, too, cried, but most importantly, he, too, did everything in LOVE.

Won’t you join me?

xx00xx

(My sister Mary Ellen and I at Santiago de Compostela, Spain.)