Category Archives: Pilgrimage

Finding Meaning Beyond Success: A Personal Journey

Are you one of those people living with this sense that your work somehow contradicts the deeper yearning of the soul? Outwardly you may appear successful, yet inwardly something remains unsettled.

Each person is born as a unique individual with gifts, talents, and a particular path to walk. Yet one of life’s great tragedies is that many people discover too late that they have spent decades climbing a ladder only to find it was leaning against the wrong wall.

Our culture encourages us to pursue success, influence, recognition, and wealth. There is nothing inherently wrong with these aspirations. The problem arises when we mistake them for the destination of a meaningful life. Once the goal has been achieved, the excitement gradually fades. What once felt extraordinary becomes ordinary. Habit replaces wonder. Achievement is followed by an unexpected emptiness.

I experienced something similar after walking my first pilgrimage to Santiago de Compostela.

Reaching the cathedral filled me with joy and a profound sense of accomplishment. For weeks I had overcome blisters, fatigue, uncertainty, and changing weather. Every step had carried meaning because it demanded something of me.

Yet it was only after returning home to the old routine that I found that work needed to be done on the real pilgrimage. I was still stuck in an unfulfilling job and a marriage that was slowly falling apart.

On the Camino Primitivo

The Camino had changed me within, but my external world was still the same.

The real work was not completing the journey. It was allowing the journey to transform the way I lived afterwards.

That insight has stayed with me ever since.

The deepest satisfaction is seldom found at the destination. It is found in the daily struggle, the uncertainty, the conversations with strangers, the physical exhaustion, the moments of silence, and the countless small challenges along the way.

Perhaps this explains why people who seem to have every comfort deliberately seek difficult experiences. They climb mountains, run ultramarathons, walk across continents or venture into remote wilderness. They are not searching for suffering. They are searching for aliveness.

Growth rarely happens in perfect comfort.

Psychologists have long observed that human beings thrive when they are stretched, but not overwhelmed. Challenges activate creativity, resilience, and learning. When every obstacle is removed, our development often stalls. Muscles strengthen through resistance. Character is shaped through adversity. Wisdom is born from experience rather than convenience.

The workplace is no exception.

Many people see workplace difficulties as something to escape. Difficult colleagues, demanding projects, changing technology or increasing responsibilities can easily become sources of frustration. Yet these very challenges often become the training ground where patience, courage, emotional intelligence and leadership are formed.

This does not mean that toxic work environments should be tolerated. Persistent bullying, exploitation or unhealthy organisational cultures damage both individuals and organisations. But in a healthy workplace, challenge itself is not the enemy. Constructive difficulty invites you to grow beyond who you were yesterday.

The German philosopher Arthur Schopenhauer captured this paradox with remarkable clarity:

“If all wishes were fulfilled as soon as they arose, how would men occupy their lives? What would they do with their time? If the world were a paradise of luxury and ease… men would either die of boredom or hang themselves.”

His words may sound severe, but they point to an enduring truth. Human beings need something meaningful to strive for. We are not designed merely for comfort; we are designed for growth.

Over the years, I have facilitated hundreds of workshops on corporate health and wellbeing. One pattern has repeatedly emerged.

Many employees spend years counting the days until retirement, convinced that happiness lies just beyond their final working day. Yet when retirement finally arrives, many discover that the absence of work also means the loss of structure, identity, community and purpose. Without a compelling reason to get up in the morning, freedom can unexpectedly become emptiness.

Work is about far more than earning a living.

People often realise this only after a prolonged illness, unemployment or an extended absence from the workplace. Beyond the salary, meaningful work offers connection, contribution and the opportunity to develop our abilities. It gives us occasions to solve problems, collaborate with others and become more than we were yesterday.

Considering that we spend such a large portion of our lives at work, perhaps the better question is not, “How can I escape the workplace?” but rather, “How can I transform my work into part of my own inner journey?”

Whether you remain in your current profession or eventually choose another path, every challenge can become part of your formation. Every difficult conversation can teach compassion. Every setback can deepen resilience. Every obstacle can reveal strengths you never knew you possessed.

The goal, after all, is not simply to arrive at retirement, promotion or financial security.

The goal is to become the person you were always meant to be.

As I look back on my own life, I rarely remember the periods when everything was easy. It was the pilgrimages, the professional setbacks, the unexpected detours, the relationships that tested me, and the moments when I had to make difficult choices that shaped who I have become.

Perhaps the same is true for you.

Rather than asking, “How can I avoid life’s obstacles?” perhaps a better question is, “What is this challenge trying to teach me?”

The obstacle may not be standing in your way.

It may be showing you the way.

So let me leave you with this question:

When you look back on your own journey, did your greatest growth come from the seasons of comfort—or from the challenges you once wished would disappear?

Reino Gevers – Host of the LivingToBe podcast

P.S: If you enjoyed this article, you might be interested in reading one of my four books, available where all good books are sold.

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The Crisis We Rarely Speak About

Across much of the world, we are witnessing a resurgence of tribalism, nationalism, and narrow ideologies. From my native South Africa to Europe and the United States, minorities are increasingly blamed for society’s frustrations.

History offers a familiar pattern here. A narrative that thrives on fear sows confusion and division, and while people are distracted by imagined enemies, fundamental freedoms are quietly eroded. The message is almost always the same: you have never been worse off, you are no longer safe, and the past was somehow better.

Materially speaking, most people today enjoy opportunities, technology, and healthcare that previous generations could scarcely have imagined. Yet trust in our major institutions—government, the media, religious organizations, and the judiciary—has seldom been lower.

Every crisis, however, carries within it the seeds of a new beginning. The illusion that our happiness depends on external institutions or circumstances is beginning to crumble.

Lasting fulfilment does not arise from the external world, but from the transformation that begins within.

So the deeper crisis lies elsewhere. It is a spiritual one—a growing loss of purpose, meaning, and connection.

Many traditional religious institutions no longer offer the answers people are looking for. More and more, people sense that the church, synagogue, temple, or mosque is not the same thing as the Divine itself. Religion teaches us what to believe and how to behave. At its best, it offers community, wisdom, and sanctuary. At its worst, it becomes an instrument of guilt, shame, or political power.

Spirituality begins somewhere deeper. It is a slow awakening.

As I write this from my home in Spain, the hypnotic chorus of Mediterranean cicadas fills the air. Their rhythmic song has become a daily reminder that creation itself is alive with mystery. Nature isn’t somewhere we escape to—it’s a living invitation to rediscover who we truly are.

When we learn to listen deeply, the subtle vibrations of life remind us that our greatest challenge isn’t political, financial, or technological. It’s the loss of our sense of purpose.

That’s precisely the insight in Romans 1:20: creation itself bears witness to the reality, power, and divine nature of God. If we open ourselves, we can perceive beauty, wonder, and mystery everywhere.

Paul writes that although God is invisible, His “eternal power and divine nature” can be clearly perceived through creation. Nature doesn’t reveal everything about God, nor does it replace spiritual revelation—it points beyond itself, toward its Source. Put simply: the universe is not just a collection of objects. It’s a living testimony, inviting us to recognise a transcendent Source expressed through both the visible and the invisible.

Seen this way, wonder becomes a doorway to faith. Beauty, order, complexity, and even our deepest longings all point beyond the material world. The real question isn’t whether there’s evidence—it’s whether we’re willing to respond to what creation is already revealing.

Paul’s larger argument is that humanity has always had access to an awareness of the Divine through creation, yet we repeatedly exchange that awareness for idols—things we choose to worship instead of the Source itself.

The Jewish mystic Rabbi Schneur Zalman put it beautifully: every soul “naturally yearns to separate itself from the body in order to unite with its origin and source…the fountainhead of all life.”

To receive these moments of awakening, we have to stay attentive—to learn how to become present. The novelist Boris Pasternak captured this with extraordinary simplicity: “When a great moment knocks on the door of your life, it is often no louder than the beating of your heart, and it is very easy to miss it.”

Perhaps the greatest spiritual practice of our time is simply learning to hear that quiet knock.

If these reflections resonate with you, I’d love for you to join Letters from the Threshold—my Inner Circle of readers exploring purpose, spirituality, and the deeper currents shaping our lives. Members receive exclusive essays, personal reflections, and an invitation to our monthly online gathering, where we explore the questions that matter most, together.

If you’re looking not just for information, but for transformation, I’d be delighted to welcome you.

Reino Gevers – Host of the LivingToBe podcast

P.S. Here you can find out more about my books on similar themes

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Lessons from the 14th Century Plague

There are places where history feels very present and where the emotional residue of another age still clings to stone and air. Puig de Maria, rising above the town of Pollença, on the Mediterranean island of Mallorca is one such place. It is not simply an old monastery, but built as a human answer to a dark time.

In 1348, as the Black Death swept across Europe. Suffocating fear was everywhere. Death arrived without logic or mercy, dismantling the illusion of control that underpinned medieval life. It is in this context that Puig de Maria was conceived: not as an architectural ambition, but as a cry to the divine.

The decision to build a sanctuary on a mountain summit high above the town was not accidental. It carried symbolic weight. To ascend is to separate—from contagion, from chaos, from the unbearable proximity of suffering. But it is also to draw nearer to God, to meaning, to the possibility that fear can be held within something larger than itself.

In Sages, Saints and Sinners, I return to a question that refuses to stay buried: what becomes of us when certainty collapses? When the structures we trusted—faith, order, meaning—no longer hold, who do we become? Set against the desolation of the 14th-century plague, a time when vast stretches of Europe fell silent and entire communities vanished, the novel steps into that rupture. It is not only a story of loss, but of what emerges in its wake—of the fragile, defiant ways human beings rediscover courage, meaning, and even love when everything familiar has been stripped away.

Some retreat into despair. Others are in denial. But there is a third path, rarer and more demanding—the transmutation of fear into courage, and anxiety into love.

Puig de Maria stands as a physical manifestation of that third path.

The people who built it were not free of fear. They were defined by it. And yet, instead of allowing fear to contract their world, they expanded it vertically. They climbed. They carried stone up a mountain in the midst of plague, and in doing so, enacted a radical defiance: fear would not have the final word.

There is a discipline in the refusal to be mentally captured by catastrophe.

The monastery that emerged—first a chapel, then a place of ongoing devotion—became more than a sanctuary. It became a container. Within its walls, fear was transformed. Ritual, prayer, and community gave structure to what would otherwise have been overwhelming. The unknown was met not with paralysis, but with presence.

This is the essence of transmutation. Not the removal of darkness, but its reworking into something that can sustain life.

Walking up to Puig de Maria today, the path winds in steady, deliberate curves. It is not a punishing climb, but it demands attention. There is a rhythm to it—step, breath, step—that mirrors something older than the path itself. Pilgrimage is never only about arrival. It is about what is shed along the way.

Halfway up, the town below begins to recede. Perspective shifts. What felt immediate loosens its grip. By the time you reach the summit, something subtle but unmistakable has occurred: distance has been created, not just physically, but internally.

This is the overlooked power of sacred geography. It externalises an inner movement.

At the top, the monastery remains austere. A tower and thick walls. A chapel that holds silence rather than spectacle. There is no excess here, no attempt to impress. It was never meant for comfort in the modern sense. It was meant for clarity.

And clarity, in times of crisis, is everything.

In our own age, fear has taken on different forms, but its structure remains familiar. Uncertainty, fragmentation, and a sense that the ground is less stable than we were led to believe. The temptation is the same as it was in the 14th century: to collapse inward, to narrow, to protect.

But Puig de Maria offers another template.

Climb.

Not away from reality, but toward a broader vantage point. Build—not necessarily in stone, but in practice—structures that can hold anxiety without being defined by it. Create spaces, inner and outer, where fear can be acknowledged, but not enthroned.

The plague did not end because a monastery was built. Suffering was not avoided. But meaning was forged in the midst of it.

And meaning is what allows endurance to become transformation.

In Sages, Saints and Sinners, the figures who endure are not those who escape fear, but those who metabolise it. They refuse its finality. They insist, against all evidence, that love and courage remain alive.

Puig de Maria asks a question that is as relevant now as it was then:

When fear rises, will you descend into it—or will you climb?

Reino Gevers – Host of the LivingToBe podcast

P.S: If you enjoyed this article you might be interested in reading: Sages, Saints and Sinners Get it today on Amazon, Barnes & Noble and where all good books are sold.

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Walking the Camino: Lessons in Life and Faith

Walking the Camino is a spiritual journey that mirrors the journey of life, unfolding in three profound stages: a beginning, a middle, and an end. Kierkegaard describes these three stages of life as the aesthetic, the ethical, and the religious.

The first stage—the crucifixion—represents the struggle and hardship of making mistakes, forcing the boat upstream, and losing your way on the wrong path. During the first stage in life we face trial and error, effort often feels futile. You sometimes engage in aimless wandering and deviations. You may easily lose your way with countless distractions in the monkey mind.

The middle stage, symbolized by the Valley of Death or the Meseta, is a surrender of the ego to a higher purpose and deeper meaning. Here, the ego must die for the soul to awaken to its inner truth, allowing for transformation and clarity.

According to Kierkegaard the appeal during this “ethical stage” lies in walking the path with confidence, even though it may be monotonous and exhausting at times.

The final stage—the resurrection—is a state of flow, where you align with the current of life and begin to see that every experience, even the challenges, has been an expression of divine grace, sculpting you into the BEING you were always meant to become.

You feel the ecstasy in the dance of life. Your walk is a gentle surfing of the path without a sense of gravity. There is an unspoken faith in the journey that drives you forward, and quickens your pace.

Reaching the Cathedral of Santiago is a celebration of joy and homecoming, marking the soul’s return to its true essence. Ultimately, the Camino is a journey of the soul, finding its way back home.

Reino Gevers – Author – Mentor – Speaker

P.S. If you enjoyed this article you will be interested in my books available where all good books are sold.

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Pilgrimage, Mystery, and Healing

In London’s Westminster Cathedral stands a strikingly beautiful statue of Our Lady of Walsingham, emanating timeless grace, peace, and compassion.

The Marian shrine of Our Lady of Walsingham, located in Norfolk, England, traces its origins back to the early 11th century. Known as “England’s Nazareth,” it became one of the most significant and ancient pilgrimage sites in the country.

Known as the „Walsingham Way,” countless pilgrims visited the Holy House with a wooden statue of the Virgin Mary as a focal point of contemplation. It was a time when monasteries and shrines connected medieval pathways in a powerful matrix throughout Europe.

But in 1538 Henry VIII ordered the Walsingham statue to be taken to London and destroyed. As part of his break from Catholicism, monasteries were dissolved, pillaged and pilgrimages prohibited.

Only in recent times, the Walsingham pilgrimage path has been revived now officially forming part of the network of pilgrimage paths to Santiago de Compostela in Spain.

The shrine in Walsingham has regained its medieval significance, often referred to as the “English Lourdes” because of its central place in Catholic and Anglican devotion in England.

Pilgrims to Walsingham seek healing, spiritual guidance, and a deepened relationship with the Virgin Mary. It remains a place of great spiritual renewal for many, with visitors walking the Holy Mile, a traditional part of the pilgrimage route.

The beautiful statue of the Walsingham Lady in Westminster Cathedral was commissioned by Cardinal Griffin in 1954 and sculpted by Pius Dapre. For many years it remained hidden and almost unknown in the Cathedral Crypt until it was recovered.

Mystery still surrounds the original wooden shrine which may have never been burned and destroyed as ordered by Henry VIII.

An article recently published in The Catholic Herald quoted art historians as saying that The Langham Madonna, a battered 13th-century English statue in London’s Victoria and Albert Museum, is in fact the original statue of Our Lady of Walsingham.

There were no eyewitness accounts that the statue was actually destroyed in London, according to the historians but hidden by Catholic loyalists until it reappeared centuries later in the museum.

Throughout history, countless myths, legends, and mysteries have surrounded the figure of the Goddess—whether Mary, Brigid, Kali, Isis or others—appearing and reappearing in various forms. At times, she has been revealed as a beautiful statue, carved from wood, stone, or marble, inspiring the creation of shrines, monasteries, or cathedrals at the place of her discovery.

Mary, in particular, has been known to appear in sacred apparitions at sites like Walsingham, Lourdes, and Fatima—places where the veil between worlds seems thin. Regardless of whether one is a believer, agnostic, or of another faith, her presence has been tied to stories of miracles that defy logic. Yet, time and again, she has brought comfort, solace, and peace to those facing pain and confusion.

Reino Gevers – Author – Mentor – Speaker

P.S. If you enjoyed this article you will be interested in my books available where all good books are sold.

Check out also the recent episode on the Living to BE podcast and Youtube with our special guest Matt O’Neill. The topic: Happiness is a Choice.

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Truth of the Heart

Just having completed the Camino Aragonese pilgrimage route in northwestern Spain, I was deeply inspired by the diverse landscapes, rich vegetation, and the symphony of nature that emerges when human noise recedes.

Immersing oneself in nature reveals the interconnectedness of all living beings. Nature is an expression of the divine, with diversity as a fundamental principle of creation.

In times when external voices grow increasingly loud with hate-filled tribalism and ethnocentricity, the truth of the heart becomes paramount.

Monoculture is lifeless

Compare a lifeless monoculture with a meadow buzzing with the sound of birds, insects and the aroma of wild herbs and a multitude of flowers.

Thoughts and beliefs – religious, philosophical or political – have become so much part of tribalist identity that some people would rather die than admit that they have all along placed the ladder against the wrong wall.

Attachment to fanaticism in all shape and form hardens mind and body, and is one of the biggest obstacles to personal growth and elevation of consciousness.

One humanity or chaotic tribalism

Currently humanity is at the cusp of an elevation of consciousness of a one humanity or regressing into another chaotic age of divisive tribalism, nationalism, and intolerance.

There have been brief periods of enlightenment in the past when faith was more experiential in nature, with individuals gaining higher insight through contemplation, art and music.

Beautifully restored Romanesque cathedrals, especially in Jaca and Sanguesa, on the Aragonese route provided sanctuary in medieval times for quiet contemplation and inspiration from sculpture at a time when most people were illiterate.

Divinely inspired music and art

Later construction of the grand cathedrals such as Notre-Dame in Paris and Chartres, with their stunning stained glass windows inspired awe and devotion.

During the Renaissance era religious art with masterpieces by artists such as Michelangelo, Leonardo da Vinci, and Raphael communicated complex theological ideas through visual means.

Sacred music by composers such as Johann Sebastian Bach, and Beethoven created elaborate musical compositions elevating the liturgical experience and deepening the spiritual experience, connecting with the divine in profound sensory-rich ways.

When a religion degenerates into claiming the ultimate truth, subjugating its members into what to believe and how to behave, there is empty ritual and stagnation. The head-mind closes the door to the heart-mind and the whispers to the soul.

Reino Gevers – Author – Mentor – Speaker

P.S. I’m excited to announce the release of my latest book, “The Turning of the Circle: Embracing Nature’s Wisdom for Purposeful Living.” If you enjoy it, you might also be interested in my previous works, “Deep Walking for Body, Mind and Soul” and “Walking on Edge: A Pilgrimage to Santiago.” You can find all of these titles at reputable bookstores near you.

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Another hill to climb

Strength and growth come only through continuous effort and struggle.” – Napoleon Hill –

It is much easier to climb a mountain if you take it one step at a time instead of looking at the steep peak ahead of you.

Several times I had to tell myself this during the last couple of days walking the Camino de Santiago in northwestern Spain.

There is also a saying on the Camino that the last few kilometers are the hardest. You climb one hill and then you find you have to climb another at the next bend.

Obstacles – the blessings in disguise

Just reflect a little on your life so far. It is mostly the obstacles, the setbacks, and those down on the ground moments that have triggered the biggest transformation.

Sadly, we often throw in the towel before we have learned the lesson or just before we are about to achieve the biggest breakthrough.

Life is not meant to be easy. We whither and die spiritually and physically if we procrastinate in a comfort zone.

A crisis, whether in an institution, in the job or in a personal relationship, is a message from the universe telling us that something is out of balance and needs to change.

The journey has to continue

We can for a moment look back on the winding steep road that we have climbed, appreciating the view and the accomplishment. But at some point we will have to continue the journey.

We human beings are hardwired to explore, and discover. As long as we live on this earth we will constantly be challenged to redefine purpose and meaning.

This morning I found a spiral etched into stone by the ancient Celtic inhabitants of Galicia. The rock site was perfectly aligned to the rising morning sun. Obviously the area had been a place of religious significance eons ago.

The ancient people were acutely aware of the laws of the seasons, closely studying nature. Beyond the perceived chaos of natural phenomenon lies a naural order of all things. The spiral is found in miniscule shells and flowers, and our DNA but also in the shape of our expanding galaxy.

Spiritually the spiral motif represents the path of the soul from the outer ego personality to the divine unity. It is the symbol of constant evolution and growth – a divine song of renewal moving from age to age.

Reino Gevers – Author – Mentor – Speaker

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Your sacred path

All the people you have met throughout your life and the experiences you have had up to this moment in time have made you into the person who you are today. Yet, there still might be that inner voice whispering that there is more to life than you have been taught or have learned.

Caroline Myss is quoted as saying that “as a vital part of a larger, universal spirit, we each have been put here on earth to fulfill a sacred contract that enhances our personal spiritual growth while contributing to the evolution of the entire global soul.”

Connecting with the global soul

Our individual souls are connected to a global soul comprising all life on the planet. Each person has a unique destiny and soul purpose and it’s not about what kind of job you are doing or the things you own. These might be a manifestation of what you become in the becoming of who you really are.

It is almost essential to find alone time for contemplation and inner reflection and to walk your sacred path alone. The urge to walk a pilgrimage first starts as a whisper and becomes ever more louder. The need to go on this soul adventure is sometimes met with strong resistance by the loved ones or family members around you. They will sense that you are in a process of shifting your consciousness and will confront you with all sorts of arguments to dissuade you from walking.

The universe will test your willpower

In a way it is the universe testing your willpower but the sad truth is also that most people are too afraid to make the changes necessary to improve their lives. Family members or partners want you to stay in the tribe and share the same beliefs, mannerisms and habits. Often they will be projecting their own fears onto you if you decide to go on a journey of untrodden paths. Partners in this way often block each other instead of lending support and encouragement to the other.

On the Camino Aragonese between Jaca and Puenta La Reina, Spain

In a few days time I will start my 14th pilgrimage walk, walking for the second time from Porto in Portugal to Santiago and then to Cabo Finisterre, the westernmost point of the Iberian Peninsular. Each walk has been different, and unique. Looking back these walks have proven to be truly transformational not only in the way they have led me in making major changes to my external life but what has happened on a spiritual level. My two books on the Camino in essence tell this story that began in early 2007.

When I served in a pilgrims’ hostel as a volunteer in 2019 I had the opportunity of literally talking to hundreds of pilgrims from all walks of life and nationalities on what motivated them to walk this ancient path that at times can be truly challenging both emotionally and physically.

Why do people go on a pilgrimage walk?

Some people start the Camino as a sporting adventure that then turns into a spiritual journey.  An American pilgrim I walked with some years ago said to me: “If you don’t approach the Camino with humility it will humiliate you.”

The Camino is telling you that this journey is not about accomplishing something but in un-becoming from everything that you thought you were and touching that place deep in the soul who you are truly meant to be.

Is the Camino part of the bigger journey of humanity seeking a common spirituality that transcends the boundaries of religious dogma?

The Camino is an analogy of life

The Camino is in many ways an analogy of life. If you can deal with the roller-coaster of the walk’s trials and tribulations, you will be steeled for whatever challenges life throws at your feet in the acceptance of the impermanence of all things.

I’ve heard stories from pilgrims who have suffered terrible personal hurt and tragedy. Others were walking while defying a life threatening medical diagnosis or who had just survived cancer.

Experiential spirituality reveals itself in helping and supportive hands, in the recognition of fellow souls going through tough trials and tribulations. There is a deep sense of that one truth that we are all one humanity.

Reino Gevers – Author – Mentor – Speaker

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Two wolves and a choice

Day 3: Via Francigena – San Gimignano to Colle di Val d’Elsa

We decided today to take the alternative route to Monteriggioni via Colle di Val di’ Elsa also known as the “crystal city” because of its high-quality glass ware.

Also simply known as Colle the town has for centuries been frequented by pilgrims on the Via Francigena. On a little hill opposite the castle in the medieval town is the 13th century convent of San Francesco where the saint’s followers would assemble for prayer.

On the walk through the shady forests and hilltops kissing the clouds I was reminded of the story of how St. Francis tamed a wolf that was terrorising the population of the Umbrian town of Gubbio.

The tale of the wolf and emotions running wild

The story goes that the wolf waited outside the city gates waiting to feast on anyone foolish enough to venture outside. Francis, who had lived in the city at the time, then announced that he himself would visit the wolf in its lair. With the wolf charging at Francis he made the sign of the Cross and commanded the wolf to cease its attacks in the name of God, at which point the wolf trotted up to him docilely and lay at his feet, putting its head in his hands.

The symbolism of the story is telling. There is a similar tale of an old Indian chieftain telling his grandson the story of two wolves constantly struggling in the heart of the human:

“There is the wolf of darkness, who is full of envy, desperation, fear and anger. The other is the wolf of light. It is the wolf of love, generosity, compassion, kindness and joy.”

The grandson asks, “And which of the two wolves is going to win?”

Sighing, the old chieftain replies, “The wolf you choose to feed.”

The story from Zen Buddhism on the taming of the bull has similar connotations. It says much about maintaining control of emotions. Uncontrolled outbursts of anger have destroyed countless marriages, long friendships, and destroyed careers and business deals.

The wolf has a voracious appetite and the warning from St. Francis and the Indian chieftain is clear. We have the freedom of choice. The wolf could be tamed because St. Francis had made him aware that a life in fear, hunger and being constantly on the run was one of suffering. In the The Fioretti di San Francesco that describes the life of St. Francis, the wolf is described as bowing its head and submitting completely at his mercy.

“As thou art willing to make this peace, I promise thee that thou shalt be fed every day by the inhabitants of this land so long as thou shalt live among them; thou shalt no longer suffer hunger, as it is hunger which has made thee do so much evil; but if I obtain all this for thee, thou must promise, on thy side, never again to attack any animal or any human being; dost thou make this promise?”

Reino Gevers – Author. Mentor. Speaker

One more thing…

You might want to check out my new book “Deep Walking for Body, Mind and Soul” released as a paperback by Morgan James Publishing on August 11, 2020. It has some valuable tips on creating happiness and boosting your vibrational energy on many levels. You can order it at all major outlets such as Amazon, Barnes and Noble or in my own store.  Check out the latest five-star reviews on Goodreads.

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“A breathtaking, captivating, transformative walk,” – Tom Dutta, Canada

“The book reminded me of my own journey in life I am walking and how bringing stillness to my busy life and mind is essential.” – Karin, France

“The book compresses on its slim 190 pages an extreme density of life wisdom.” Christina Germany

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Food for thought

„Walk as if you are kissing the Earth with your feet.” – Thich Nath Hanh

Day  2 on the Via Francigena – Gambassi Terme to San Gimignano

On a hilltop between the medieval Tuscan towns of Gambassi Terme and San Gimignano the pilgrim enters the village of Pancole famous for the 15th century painting by Pier Francesco Fiorentino of the “Virgin feeding her Son.”

The original sanctuary was built in 1668 on the site where the sacred image originally stood along a country road where it had been abandoned and covered by undergrowth. Several miracles were attributed to the Madonna.

One of the miracles is the survival of the painting itself after the Nazis destroyed the original sanctuary in an act of indiscriminate vandalism in a bid to destroy the very soul and ancestral roots of a nation.

The sanctuary was reconstructed in 1949 and along with the nearby Monastero di Bose offer wonderful spaces for quiet  contemplation.

Landscapes that inspired poets and artists throughout the ages

It is no surprise that spectacular landscapes and the quiet pathways throughout the centuries inspired poets, musicians and religious orders

Spending hours in the heart of nature after only a few days of walking opens the heart and mind to the whispers from the universe.

You are forced to go slow up the steep inclines and then you begin to notice the small creatures on the ground such as the lizards, beetles, ants, and butterflies.  When in a hurry it is easy to mindlessly trample on these small creatures who are all fighting for survival when perceiving the heavy boots of an oncoming pilgrim.

St. Francis – the original ecologist

There are numerous stories of St. Francis, the patron saint of the animals, communicating and preaching to the animals as fellow creatures of God.  The saint was well known to walk long distances to spread his message and there are no numerous shrines on the Camino in Spain and along the Via Francigena dedicated to him.

St. Francis can be described as the original ecologist and his central message of social justice and greed causing harm to both the victim and the perpetrator ringing more true than ever.

Spending time in nature creates awareness on how complex the interaction of plant, insect, bird and mammal are intertwined and co-dependent on each other.  Nature starts tilting into imbalance when one species gains dominance and threatens the livelihood of all others. It is offers much food for thought.

Reino Gevers – Author. Mentor. Speaker

One more thing…

You might want to check out my new book “Deep Walking for Body, Mind and Soul” released as a paperback by Morgan James Publishing on August 11, 2020. It has some valuable tips on creating happiness and boosting your vibrational energy on many levels. You can order it at all major outlets such as Amazon, Barnes and Noble or in my own store.  Check out the latest five-star reviews on Goodreads.

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“A breathtaking, captivating, transformative walk,” – Tom Dutta, Canada

“The book reminded me of my own journey in life I am walking and how bringing stillness to my busy life and mind is essential.” – Karin, France

“The book compresses on its slim 190 pages an extreme density of life wisdom.” Christina Germany

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Filed under Camino de Santiago, environment, meditation, Pilgrimage, self-development, spirituality