a holy pilgrimage with mother

As a tribute to my amazing mother I accompanied her on an auspicious trek, a holy pilgrimage where the word of Jesus Christ was spread many centuries back on a special route through the amazingly stunning lands of Northern Spain to Santiago de Compostela.

Something profound shifted at the beginning of this trek. Mum became Eglee (her name) well actually, more familiarly I called her ‘Eggers’. Eggers is an incredible woman. She’s a healer and despite the distance between us, she always knows when something’s up with me, through her innate motherly intuition. “We’re so connected darling” she’d say to me. “But we all are Mum” I’d say when something synchronistic happened between us.

Now this is all good and well and amazingly wonderful however the journey of self-discovery, can involve solitude, depth and a proverbial crisis (with an innate wish to protect people I love from any traumas) meaning that her loving attention has historically irritated me and sang to my just ‘let me work it out for myself!’ stubbornness. This trip however was to unite us as equals.

So Eggers and I walked about 15km per a day and took the ‘primitivo camino’, which is the original path of St James and not frequented by many pilgrims due to its reputation for ups and downs and changeable weather. Perfect for two adventuresses! So, as always, the challenge played to our advantage. Our first few days were empty paths and beautiful scorching rays of sunshine that gave us space to enjoy one another’s company, the nature, yummy blackberries for picking and have a good chatter about the profundities of life and our shared story. When we finally reached a larger town, Melide, Eggers upped her status after finding a pilgrim stick leaning against a wall. "Look Jess, I am Santa Eglee" she joked as she strolled proudly with her bit of wood. We headed to the church for mass and had a rather awkward moment as Eggers got accosted by a tall German dude accusing her of stealing his large stick and showing photos to prove it. He was pretty attached to that stick evidently... Awkward moment for Santa Eglee...

Santander Cathedral

“Well I’ve always wanted to be one of your friends” Mum confessed to me when I explained to her that I want to call her Eggers instead of play the mother-child-child-mother role with her. “I always wanted to be your equal.” I'm like, seriously, now you tell me!?

When I was a teenager, like most teenagers, I didn't always think my Mum was so cool. She did rock up to my school to pick me up in slippers after all. Mum lent on me for purpose and protection; which is consequently responsible for my superhero tendencies. Now she's a rather empowered lady that doesn't need saving but a good laugh to be around.

Mankind on the other hand… 

So. Wow. This is profound I realised. This is momentous. This is an evolution in our relationship that has gone on for lifetimes. This powerful woman who has loved me through thick and thin, who has stood by me, despite me pushing her a million miles away, who still loves me after I have shown her every side to me, this lady who demonstrates the most powerful unconditional love ever wants to be my equal. Blimey. This is humbling.

The illusion of family came up on our camino and the illusion of family is a saddening realisation for me in a way; it takes away all the ties, role plays and expectations but settles in to a wonderful and powerful uniting force that is just love and respect. One that isn't binding and loaded with expectations but instead free and cool.

When that chalice was full of Jesus' blood, I'm sure it spilled out a little, as may have his sufferings, perhaps to those closest to him. This is the nature of sharing our pains. And to love I believe is to find compassion and not take it too personally or direct our anger at the messenger who might be suffering themselves or unconsciously sharing their pains. This also reflects on a global scale when we feel we need to serve retribution for the pains caused to us by others instead of realising that its mutual. Once upon a time, there was a law that if someone killed a member of your family, you could kill a member of theirs. Eventually war broke out. This fuels an idea that we must 'pay back' the sufferings one has caused another by serving it directly back to them.

I am massively proud of this woman who left a poverish life in Venezuela, made enough money as a beautician to study Italian, travel around Europe before meeting and marrying my Pops, popping out some sprogs before becoming a single Mum, having her crisis, meltdown then moving to Spain to serve as an incredible healer... which brings us to NOW.

And NOW I realise how much this lady has inspired me. This lady has given so much for me and if I lived in a world of ‘give to receive’ then I could never repay her for all that she’s done for me. But I don’t and neither does she. She feels more blessings in giving. 

Love without clinging must be super hard for Mums. To live and let live. To love another enough for them to be free is an incredible power of love and it has taken a holy pilgrimage for Eggers and I to get to a very special level of mutual appreciation and empowerment. Mother nature is the perfect example of unconditional love.

So I am honoured to have Eggers as a mate. She is nuts sometimes. But she also gives sound advice when I need it and apparently I do her. More than anything she loves me unconditionally. So as equal human beings the feeling's mutual.

Beautiful Santiago

El Camino De Santiago is a powerful trek. We decided to work through each of the chakras everyday to give it that extra bit of spirit. We listened to our bodies. Our energies (giving ourselves a much needed ‘passive energy’ day just before getting crowned in Santiago). Everyday we made an affirmation and drew insight from the symbols of religion and yoga concluding the trip with mass in the beautiful cathedral of Santiago and having a lovely glass of vino after it was suggested we “go drink the blood of Christ”.

In the Cathedral hangs a giant incense bowl. Apparently the pilgrims would be able to sleep in the stalls of the Cathedral and obviously, smelt pretty damn gross after all the sweat and stench following their treks. Evidently not even the Holy home of God could transcend the aversion to stench.