The Good Rain

The walks I have taken in the last several days have been bathed in sunlight. Being it is mid-February in the Pacific Northwest, you might think that I have flown South (as I did last year at this time). The truth is, these walks have taken me along the shores of the Puget Sound and along the banks of a river in the Olympic rain forest. I'm not going to lie. I love this unexpected window of light and warmth in the midst of a typically cold and wet winter. And I'm not alone. The park near our home was filled with people on Sunday. Today, however, the rains have returned and the park is nearly empty. My choice to walk, in spite of the wet conditions, is one that I wouldn't have made a few years ago. But then I walked the pilgrim road to Santiago de Compostela in Spain, and all of that changed. When your vocation each day is simply to get up and walk until you reach your destination, you don't allow the weather to dictate your movements. You just pay attention and dress accordingly. I have to say that I found this to be very liberating. My previous pattern of venturing out only when the conditions seemed favorable kept me from experiencing a big part of the world around me. Yes, it's beautiful to see sun filtering through the trees in a rain forest. But it is a rain forest, and if you haven't had the experience of being enveloped in mist and drenched in showers as you followed a muddy trail beneath firs and cedars you haven't known the half of it. I'm in the process of learning to see my daily pilgrimage in this same way. There is a part of me that will always be a fair-weather pilgrim. I look for conditions that seem favorable and am happy when I can dwell there. But when I venture forth into the day without regard for this, and when I learn to discover the sacred in unexpected places, and even in harsh circumstances, I know I have moved several steps closer to my destination.