I am familiar with the practice of pilgrimage, having been a pilgrim to the Holy Land and to Rome and Assisi. Pilgrimage is a journey to a holy place, that requires an interior journey as much as an outer one. The Celtic practice of peregrinatio is similar in that it also calls me to sacred journey, but with a key difference: peregrinatio is a call to holy wandering, a call to search for the place where my gifts and life can be fully lived out and which becomes my “place of resurrection.” I don’t wander so much toward an outward destination, but rather toward an inward destination of knowing that this is my place of living authentically as who I am.
Recently, I was part of a group led by Angie Pierce Jennings where we entered into this practice of peregrinatio through photography. With camera in hand, we each went outside and wandered, being open to whatever images we might receive that spoke to us about this holy wandering. I have a creek path that I love to walk. It is a path, though, so if I truly wanted to wander, I needed another less distinct guide for my feet. I followed the song of the wrens along the path, staying open to whatever spoke to me of peregrinatio. And I discovered my image of peregrinatio: dandelions.
What better metaphor could there be for holy wandering than a dandelion flower turned to seed? The wind catches those earthbound seeds and carries them to their place of resurrection, the place where they each begin a new flowering life that will also send forth its own seeds. Actually, the whole life of a dandelion speaks to me of peregrinatio: the tight bud of potential, the sunshine flower, the closed flower turned to seed, the open fluff of seeds, and finally the stem, a few seeds clinging in the beauty of having released seeds of new life.
Angie had said that the photos we receive can be autobiographical. Where is my story in the dandelion’s story? I would love to say that I am sending out my seeds with abandon in the summer breeze. But if I’m honest, I find myself resonating with that closed flower turned to seed. Who knows what joyous new possibilities my life holds for me? What winds are still waiting for my seeds? Where else am I called to wander? When I see myself as a dandelion, I know I have many seasons of flowering, releasing, wandering and reseeding in life.
After spending time contemplating and journaling with my dandelions, I wrote a seven-line poem (a poem created by underlining seven significant phrases from my journal) to express the practice of peregrinatio in my life. It’s a reminder to me that wandering is a holy and necessary part of my life.
Me As Me
Contemplative soul
Wandering soul
Satisfies my heart
Ready to open into fullness
Growing the gifts
All is Sacred.
—Deborah Hansen, friend of Prairiewoods