Where walking meets wonder
Reflections from the Pilgrimagic trail.
An unfolding path can take surprising turns and pass through unexpected places. And the trail I make by walking often only makes sense when I stop, turn and look at where I’ve been.
This is as true of Pilgrimagic as any path I’ve walked through the world.
Whether you’ve journeyed with me from the beginning or joined more recently, I’m so grateful that you take the time to read, comment and share what I write each week. It means the world to me, and I’m so grateful for your company on the trail.
We’ve covered a lot of ground together, so this week, I wanted to take some time to survey the landscape we've travelled. I’m the kind of person who thinks with my mouth open, and I often don’t know what’s important to me until I put it into words. So, I thought I’d look back over the articles I’ve written for Pilgrimagic so far, to see what threads I’ve been following and to look for clues about where the path ahead may lead.
Wandering mindfully
If I had to sum up my philosophy of walking in a simple phrase, it would be “moments, not miles.” I’ve walked some long-distance paths, but in truth, I’m not much of a hiker. For me, the best kinds of walks are gentle ambles and curious explorations, with plenty of time to stop so the world can come to meet me.
In my masters research on people’s relationships with places in nature, I found that the deepest connections were fostered through the simple act of sitting. Walking through a wood is entirely different to perching on a log, sinking into the quiet, and letting the forest fill my senses. For me, mindful walking is not just noticing the rhythm of my breath and steps but turning my attention outwards to the sights, sounds, smells, tastes and textures of the world around me.
Walking with intention also means shifting my attention from the destination to the journey itself. It’s partly why I struggle to organise myself to embark on a long-distance path; I find the pressure to reach a comfortable bed before night can rob the day of the joy of discovery. I’d rather not keep an eye on my watch or wrestle with stopping for an hour or two under a tree. I can’t give myself the freedom to become lost if I’m aiming for a particular endpoint.
If I can walk without apps and maps, I’m happy. It can be enough to simply set out and meet the path as it rises up to greet my feet.
Being a pilgrim
I honestly forget how the name Pilgrimagic came to me. But I hope its twin elements - pilgrim and magic - encapsulate the possibilities of self-discovery through walking.
I know that for some readers, the idea of being a pilgrim is too closely entwined with religious belief. For others, the concept of magic can be equally challenging. But I firmly believe that by charting a course between these spiritual realms, the transformative path of pilgrimage can be opened to everyone.
Few of us have the privilege to leave our lives for periods of extending wandering, but I don’t think that a pilgrimage has to be long. In my experience, an afternoon stroll around the park can be as revelatory as a multi-day hike. What matters is the intention I carry and what motivates me to walk. I love leaving home with an unanswered question. Whether or not I find answers in the world, a stroll gives my mind time to wander.
The idea of life as a journey may be hackneyed, but on a cosmic scale, it is inescapably true. Each day, the earth at my feet moves at dizzying speed, carrying me into the bright sunlight and then plunging me through the darkness towards another dawn. The sun spins through space, and the whole of the Milky Way turns on its axis. The galaxy speeds through the cosmos as space itself expands in every direction. Every hour of my life has carried me over 50 million kilometres from the place of my birth.
I can’t help but be a pilgrim. The only question is whether I can open myself to the possibility of self-discovery along the way.
Entering the labyrinth
For long periods of my life, I lived with the painful dislocation of my inner and outer worlds as I tried to be who others needed me to be. Recovering myself meant committing to authenticity, as I finally let my outward circumstances reflect my inward reality.
In the ensuing process of self-discovery, walking has been a powerful way to meet myself on the path. With only my footsteps for company, the trail gave me space to find myself, and it is a journey that continues. Becoming who I am is not always joyous; it can also mean confronting uncomfortable truths about my nature.
I have found that the labyrinth can offer a safe container for the exploration. The labyrinth is an ancient symbol that first appeared millennia ago on rock carvings in Galicia. Spread by a simple seed pattern, it propagated itself across Europe, appearing on English fields, Baltic shores and Cretan coins.
To enter the labyrinth is to meet the unknown. On the single path that winds towards the centre, I sometimes find the most fragile and vulnerable parts of myself that long to be brought into the light.
A simple labyrinth drawn with a stick on a beach can be a powerful container for a walking ritual. And this is what I love most about the labyrinth: it distils the arduous journey of a pilgrimage into a few simple steps, inwards and outwards. It offers the chance to step beyond the ordinary. And it makes the transformative potential of walking accessible to everyone.
Walking for everyone
The final thread that I seem to have been following with Pilgrimagic is inclusion. I knew this mattered to me, but until I started reading and writing around the subject, I didn’t realise quite how much.
In all honesty, I’m angry. Research shows persistent inequalities of access to walking, with trails, groups, and activities often centred on the needs of white, fit, affluent, older people. Outside of those categories, many of us face barriers to walking. We face structural challenges, like unwalkable cities, unsafe neighbourhoods and limited travel options to reach places in nature. We are excluded from nature because of our disabilities. Our faces don’t fit. Walking, which should be an activity freely open to all, too often seems to be a domain of the privileged few.
None of that is right, and things have to change. So many of the solutions to these problems are beyond my power and influence to solve. But I’m determined that Pilgrimagic should be a means to expose inequalities, challenge preconceptions, and demand accessibility.
In my monthly update to paying subscribers, sent on Monday this week, I talked about my hopes to bring Pilgrimagic into the real world in the coming year, maybe through workshops, events and retreats. I’m still in winter-dreaming mode, and I’m not sure I know what any of that looks like yet. But I want to ask you, as my fellow wanderers, to hold me to account. It’s a clichéd turn of phrase, but I want to walk the walk of accessibility and inclusion, not just talk about it. If you see me take a wrong turn, especially one that leaves people behind, please tell me.
The path ahead
As I look back on the path we’ve walked together, Pilgrimagic has offered an invitation to wander mindfully, take your next step on life’s journey, enter the labyrinth of self-discovery and welcome others as walking companions. Fresh discoveries will meet us on the path, I’m sure, but we’ve made a great start. I’m excited for the steps we’ll take together in the future.
My aspiration is that Pilgrimagic is where walking meets wonder. If that idea resonates with you, can I ask two things?
Firstly, please share your thoughts, either in the comment section for this article or by replying directly if this landed in your email inbox. I’d love to hear more about your experiences of walking, and your reflections about the barriers you face and the discoveries you make.
Secondly, please share this article with your friends and family. If you know anyone interested in walking, wellbeing and the path to self-discovery, please let them know about Pilgrimagic. The articles I publish each week are free for anyone to access, and I’d love for them to reach more people.
Finally, thank you. It is an incredible thing that you give me a few moments of your time each week, and I don’t take it for granted. And I hope, wherever the path leads us next, you’ll be inspired to take your next step.
"Walking has been a powerful way to meet myself on the path" - a lovely, zen-like summary of the meditative aspects of walking. I don't walk enough. And your articles always inspire me to walk more, and to walk free, even if I am not a 'typical' walker. Thanks.