The Power and Promise of Pilgrimage: Why We Walk

As far back as I can remember I have always been drawn to long journeys. When I was about 11 years old growing up in the small Queens, New York suburb called “Laurelton” I remember riding my bike all the way down the main road (“Merrick Blvd.”)- going east as far as it would take me out on Long Island. I don’t recall having a map or any real “plan” where I was going as well as the “why” for doing that. There was something about the journey to the unexplored (for me, that is), the curiosity, meeting the unknown and the physicality of doing it with my own body.

It was many years later, at 23, that I found myself traveling alone in the Far East, climbing Himalayan mountains, taking Filipino boats and busses to places that were not really known to me. I can say in hindsight that what drove me was something not overly clear, I wanted the process of it all more than the goal. It was as if I inherently knew that these journeys had numerous dimensions, even though I was nowhere near using the word “sacred” at the time. For my “rite of passage” at age 50 I researched diligently, in the end deciding on a 9-day ritual in the wooded forest of South England to do a “vision quest”: a modern adaptation of a native American ritual in which I spent 4 days and 4 nights alone in the forest, fasting and drinking only water. The experience- which reached its climax in my “re-entry” into “society” for the last 3 days with my guide and cohort- is no doubt one of the more dramatic experiences of my life.

Not all long and profound journeys are physical and done on one’s own. Today when I reflect on the past, I can say without hesitation that the year 2000 family journey  with my parents and siblings to the hometown of my father in Belarus of today, Zhetl, was an “inner journey” that had a greater impact on me than any other. It was there that my father Max (Mordechai) opened his heart and soul in an unprecedented way, in front of the mass graves of his family and more than 2500 other Jews who were murdered in the Holocaust in 1942. It was these precious, existentially-sacred moments that my father called an “unforgettable pilgrimage to the past and dedication to the future.” I feel deeply grateful that I was able to catch these moments on film to serve as a legacy to be passed on to the generations to come.

Pilgrimages have always been with us

Pilgrimages, it seems, have been around as long as civilization. Pilgrimages have long been a common feature of many world religions, including Christianity, Judaism, Islam, Buddhism, Hinduism, and Shinto, among others. Defining the term “pilgrimage” has also evolved and transformed over time. Traditionally, pilgrimage was a journey to a holy place, which can lead to a personal transformation, after which the pilgrim returns to their daily life. A pilgrim (from the Latin peregrinus) is a traveler (literally, one who has come from afar) who is on a journey to a holy place. Typically, this is a physical journey (usually on foot) to some place of special significance to the adherent of a particular religious belief system. The best known  religious pilgrimages include in Islam, of going to Mecca, in ancient Jewish history of “going up” to the Temple in Jerusalem three times a year, the Christian pilgrimage to Rome and in the past to Jerusalem, the Hindu pilgrimage to Varanasi, among many more.

Our modern age has increasingly taken the pilgrimage beyond the confines of religion deep into the human dimension of questioning, struggling, honoring and commemorating one’s life. The “modern pilgrimage”, if I may call it that, brings the human questions of the pilgrim to center stage- where am I in my life today and what do I wish for myself going forward?

To go on pilgrimage means to place oneself in a framework that demands discipline, endurance, simplicity, reflection and a desire to “disconnect from daily life” demands in order to allow a deeper dimension to arise. Pilgrimage is not simply about arriving at a sacred place, it’s not just about the “make it there” objective, although the goal is definitely part of the whole story. It is about the transforming that happens along the way. And THAT is all about the unknown, about confidence in life, in self, in purpose. 

Why walk?

Walking is not accidental — it is essential, at a very core level that does not usually meet the eye. Here’s why:

1. Walking Slows Us Down

In ordinary life, we move quickly - driven by tasks, expectations, responsibilities.On pilgrimage, the pace shifts to the rhythm of the body and breath.

When we slow down:

• The mind softens.

• The heart opens.

• We become able to feel again.

Walking teaches a different time, a more human time. For anyone who has ever been on any long journey- not for work!- or prolonged periods in the desert or in nature in general, you have probably tasted that quality that may be said at some level to be “beyond time”.

2. Walking Quietens the Mind

Step after step, the mind begins to settle. The noise of daily life grows quieter.Thoughts pass like clouds. Much of the incessant “noise of our daily lives seems to subside- especially if we can distance ourselves from the new addiction of our times- the mobile phone!

Walking becomes a form of moving meditation.

The ancient phrase:

“Solvitur ambulando.” - It is solved by walking.

Not because answers appear from outside,but because walking makes space for the inner voice to be heard.

I have always been one to love to walk, alone or with others in conversation. Both of these formats “clear my mind” and allow me to focus in a way that makes me curious, creative and explorative. One might say- when confused get out and take a walk!

3. Walking Unites Body and Soul

Modern life often disconnects us from our bodies.Pilgrimage reunites because it often has a strong “physicality” about it. On walking pilgrimages, we can feel:

• feet on the earth

• breath in the chest

• the heart’s longing

• and the direction of life.

The inner journey becomes embodied:not just something we think but something we live with every step.

4. Walking Reveals What We Carry

As the road unfolds, something else unfolds too:

• old fears

• old grief

• unfinished questions and dilemmas

• forgotten dreams and passions

Walking gives them space to rise - gently, naturally - without force. Slowly.

Pilgrimage is the safe container where the soul can speak.

5. Walking Makes Us Simple Again

A pilgrimage is not your usual trek or vacation, by its essence, and the pilgrim is not a tourist. On the road you carry only what you need most, your backpack guides and reminds you what you are carrying. You eat when hungry. Simple food meant only to provide nutrition and nothing else. You rest when tired. You need, value and appreciate your rest. The traditional pilgrim sleeps in simple huts, rooms and hostels where there are many to a room. This simplicity is not primitive -it is liberating. And it is from this simplicity our humanity is transformed.

6. Walking Connects Us to Others

When you meet another walker, there is no status, no role, no pretense.Two humans, on the same long road, sharing stories, bread, silence. Conversations very often gravitate to speaking from the heart.

Pilgrimage reminds us: We are companions, not competitors. We are all here on earth as human beings- we have a beginning, a middle and an end. Conversations reach levels and depths that are rare in daily life. The Pilgrimage invites us in to a different time, space and conversation. This is the beginning of healing.

7. Walking is a Metaphor for Life Itself

Life is walked, not theorized. One step at a time.Forward, even when uncertain. With courage, even when tired.With hope, even when we do not yet see the destination. Walking trains the soul to keep going. Walking a pilgrimage is helpful to all people at any age, but in my mind it is clearly at its best in the second half of life. When we are older and more experienced, we have already seen noted and lived transformation. With our experience and wisdom within us we are ready to engage and walk in pilgrimage that is deeply existential.

It is a way of:

• taking stock of a life

• letting something old fall away

• opening to what wants to be born next

What is life asking of me?

🌿 The Camino de Santiago: A Shared Human Journey

There is something unique about the ancient Camino de Santiago that sets it apart from other long-distance walks. Yes, it is physically demanding — hundreds of kilometers of steady movement, changing weather, tired muscles, and the daily rhythm of the body adjusting to the road. But the deeper transformation does not come from the endurance itself. It comes from the people. The Camino is a path where thousands from around the world walk side by side, each carrying their own story: loss, transition, renewal, curiosity, healing, or simply the quiet sense that life is inviting me to begin again.

People come to the Camino:

• after loss

• after burnout

• after retirement

• at a point in time of significant change

• after life stops making sense

• when something in the heart whispers: “Begin again.”

In this shared movement, something softens. People speak more openly. We listen more gently. The road becomes a place where we rediscover one another — and ourselves.

On the Camino, you are never only walking your own life - you are walking alongside the lives of countless others. Conversations arise without effort: at a water fountain, in the evening over a bowl of soup or glass of wine, or while resting in the shade of an old tree. No one needs to prove anything. No one needs to wear a role. Titles, identities, and defenses fall away. What remains is human presence - simple, honest, unguarded. The Camino teaches us that we do not heal or find meaning alone. We do it with others.

For me, this is the heart of the pilgrimage. I will be walking with my own questions, my own history, my own hopes - just like everyone else. But I am also walking to listen. To hear the stories that others carry. To gather the wisdom that comes not from theory, but from footsteps, courage, and vulnerability shared on the road. The Living Handbook of Hope and Meaning I intend to create will be shaped not only by my journey — but by the many voices I meet along the way.

The Camino reminds us that meaning is not something we invent.It is something we walk into together.

Why am I walking the Camino de Santiago?

It is of course not just a “good question” but it is “THE question”. I wish I had a short, simple clear answer but that’s not the way it is, apparently. No surprise to me. I recall when I did have those “short, simple and clear answers” to important questions in my life I usually got it wrong. The answer to this question has different dimensions at different depths.

I am walking the Camino because I can

Simple, right? I am feeling my life at this time to be very enriching, stimulating, inviting and actually developing into new areas and opportunities. There is nothing like being a grandfather for the first time, for example! What would it be like to go on pilgrimage when one is actually feeling strong, alive curious, I ask myself. Much like the 11year old version of myself, I feel drawn to explore, to endure, to set a goal, to immerse myself in new and exciting experience in roads not yet taken…

I am walking because I remember

Deeply embedded in my “long-term soul memory” is the trip to the Far East that I set out to do late in my 23^rd year, which ended up being four and a half years. I so vividly remember my 35-day trek to the Everest base camp from Kathmandu and then into Eastern Nepal, soon followed by a 21-day trek from Leh in the Indian Himalayas across the then very remote Zanskar valley. Day in day out it was all about donning my backpack in the chilly early morning and letting my legs move me till the evening. The pace, rhythm, physical challenge, sounds and challenges of nature, the native people and cultures and the fascinating blend of foreigners doing much of the same thing- all this has left a deep memory inside me. Nostalgia? Perhaps, but nothing like some powerful nostalgia to get the excitement going!

I am walking in gratitude to what my life has brought me

Walking long, hard in nature has always been an exceptionally penetrating way for me to “reach into myself” in gratitude and appreciation of all that “is”. It is something that allows me circumvent the incessant self-talk in my brain and bring in new perspectives on just how lucky and privileged I am to be who, what, why, with whom and where I am.

I am walking into sage-ing and not just aging

Over the years I have accustomed to seeing my life- as well as those who are dear to me- as a series of “chapters of a book”- a “life book”. I know that aging can and will be a challenge for me, as for all of us, but I want to make it much more than just the “last chapters of the book”. I intend to help write this chapter to the best of my ability, by stressing, seeking out and expanding the opportunities for growth and transformation at this time of life. This is the difference for me between “just aging” and “Sage-ing”…

I am walking to bridge the generations

For many years now I have increasingly felt that while my life is “my life”, it has come with some other “aspects” that I have grown closer to with age, especially after the death of my parents. I am here because my father miraculously survived the Holocaust, in which nearly his entire family, town, community, language were killed. He and his sister survived while his parents, other siblings, grandmother aunts, uncles, cousins and friends did not. Whatever and whomever I help bring to life will always harbor a small piece of those whose lives were taken. I feel this legacy of my father very deeply.

My children, and now precious grandchild, Goni, are those that my wife Merav and I have brought in and up in this world. I am the bridge that connects who went before me to them, what I bring to me will be in memory and in legacy while I am here and hopefully long after.

I need to add an interesting point about my dear father regarding my “crazy ideas” as he more than once lovingly(and with no small dose of frustration) called. I certainly pushed some of his “fear buttons”, to be sure. When I was living in Japan at the age of 26, he and my mother came to visit me and he unabashedly stated that he was there to “bring me back”. All this Aikido, Shiatsu, meditation, Japanese girlfriend, among other “stuff” he kept hearing (or fearing?) from my letters filled him with all kinds of “red alert” messages. Before they left Kyoto he told me straight off: “Stop all this body stuff and just come home and settle down already!” This all made for some good laughs, nothing is as funny as when you are dealing with real fears.

Nearly a quarter of a century later, I came to visit my parents in Jerusalem with my wife Merav before I left for my 10-day vision quest in England. We told my father the plan, what it was and why I was doing it to mark my 50^th birthday. My father went quiet and then suddenly blurted out, while slapping his forehead in disbelief: “A What? A Vision Kvetch? Merav, you are allowing this crazy thing? Where do you get such crazy ideas, oy vey iz mir…”. My beloved father. I wonder what he would say today about my taking a “Christian pilgrimage” associated with a Catholic saint…

I am walking the camino because I feel an existential calling of purpose

I can honestly say that despite all I have written above, I do not believe I would have ever thought to do this pilgrimage if it were not part of a much bigger “project” for me. That project is to create something that I can put into the world that will help others connect to hope and meaning in their lives in times of difficulty, crisis and challenge. Since October 7, 2023, so many of our lives have been shaken, turned upside down, so many of our ideas, values, assumptions and ways of relating to life have been beaten down. All this has led me to dive deeply into exploring the concept of “hope” and how it is inextricably tied to that of “meaning”. This is not something that has been or should ever stay only in the sphere of the intellect. Our world needs hope, existential hope, the kind that Viktor Frankl described in Man’s Search for Meaning, the kind of hope that my father and the many other Holocaust survivors embodied in their lives and in their choices.

I know that the Camino de Santiago is a magnet that attracts many thousands of people who bring their deep questions, struggles, pain and longing to the path. It is there that I hope and believe that my pilgrimage will meet theirs, it is there that I will hear their stories, they will hear mine. Together we will think and be, as we walk and talk about what it means to search for meaning and hope in a world that is longing for it all so very deeply.

I plan to create this “living handbook of hope and meaning” in the months that will follow my pilgrimage, imbued with the stories, challenges and wisdom that I hope to immerse myself in. It is my deepest hope that this “living handbook” will be there for people to use, consult and expand on wherever they are and whomever they are.

I walk the camino for all of the above and for reasons which I will discover up ahead.

As the old saying goes, the path is wiser than the one who walks it.

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