By Andrea Lingle

Why are we here?

As a student of philosophy, I usually read that question with the emphasis on the Why. Why, for what reason, are we here. Is there a grand purpose underlying life? Is there any purpose to life?

Today I see those words and I am struck by the word here. Why are we here, in this place, in this singular place. Sheltering. Why are we confined to our homes? The obvious answer is to slow the spread of viral infection so that hospitals can stay ahead of the equipment to critical care patient ratio. 

That is a great reason to be here.

But while we are here, is there something else to find here? 

Not the next great American novel or  sour dough bread or toilet paper mâché or Tic Tok immortality. Is there something else? Could there be?

This is your invitation to pilgrimage.

How, exactly, could one go on pilgrimage while being unable to leave one's home. Well, it turns out that pilgrimage isn't a destination. Pilgrimage is a process. Pilgrimage is a willingness to put your foot on the road, not knowing where you will be swept off to, for the purpose of being transformed. 

Do you know what my greatest fear about quarantine is? When it is over, we will all just go back. To the way things were. To living in minivans and slurping down dinner standing in the middle of the kitchen while (moderately) gently reminding the children to hang up their swim bags. Quarantine is terrifying. People are dying. Dreams and businesses and certainties are all gone. I don't want to diminish it. It is trauma. But, do you know what I see out of my window? My neighbors are walking along our country roads. Roads that were too dangerously busy to walk down before. Does that pay for the trauma? No. Certainly not. Not even close. But it does force me to wonder: Where were we going before we were here? 

Where could we go?

I invite you to enter a five week pilgrimage with me. Because I am a writer, writing is how this pilgrimage will be structured. Do you want to come? 

Yes?

Great!

This is what you will need:

• A notebook

• A pen

• A six inch piece of string (more on this later...if you want, post a picture of you and your string on your social media and tag us! #MWFPilgrimage

• A camera

• The Wisdom for the Way

This is how you need to prepare:

• Schedule fifteen minutes per day to write. You don't need to write yet—just figure out when you could. This is important. If you need childcare, find a time when that is available. If you need good light, don't pick 10:30 pm. You get the idea. 

• Figure out how you can create a space of silence around your writing time. Quarantine isn't a time when we can be alone (unless you are sheltering alone, in which case, I am so sorry and a touch jealous). Find a time during your day when no one will be offended if you don't talk or listen. Your world doesn't have to be quiet; you need to be quiet. Ideally, allow fifteen to thirty minutes before you write to simply allow yourself to quiet down (the longer the better, but try to aim for at least fifteen minutes). No phone, no podcasts, no music, and minimal talking. Find a way to quiet yourself (even if you are surrounded by four kids and three dogs). To be clear. I am not asking you to find a silent space, I am asking you to become as quiet as you can within your space. If you like, you can begin this practice right away. Just maintain quiet from your chosen lead up time until your scheduled writing time is over even though you won't be writing yet.