Out of Africa

A pilgrimage isn't measured in miles or expensive plane tickets to exotic locations—it’s measured in attention, openness, and the courage to let go. Join a journey through nature, Sacred Presence, and the practice of surrender.

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Big News: The SMC Podcast Has Launched!

Whether you’re commuting or doing chores, you can now listen in on the reflections and discussion questions you’ve come to expect from the articles — plus guest conversations to deepen the experience.

Our first two episodes are live:

Ep. 0: Welcome to the SMC Podcast

Ep. 1: First-Ever SMC Event — Hear the music of Lynn O’Brien, experience the shared reflections, & listen to the moments where we felt the beauty of ‘thin places’ breaking through the ordinary. You can listen to it here:

Or listen & subscribe on our Podcast page.

You can also listen on Apple Podcasts or anywhere you get your podcasts. Be sure to subscribe and turn on alerts so you never miss an episode.

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Episode 1 is a recording of our first SMC event — and now you can be part of the next one in September!

Sunday Morning Café Event

Sunday, September 21 

Parker's Table at Oakland & Yale | Richmond Heights, MO

"At this workshop, concert, event, not sure the right word other than amazing, you’ll take a deep breath, connect with fascinating people, focus on what matters, and share vulnerably without fear." – SMC Event Attendee

Get your ticket for SMC 9/21.

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Thanks to Our Guest Writers

I want to thank Annalise Wagner, Tim Bono, and Lizzie Wiegert for their contributions to this blog while I was away on my adventures in Africa. Thanks to satellite technology, I was able to read each of their articles in a river delta, a savannah, and a back porch. Their vulnerability, researched insights, and tested practices opened up landscapes within those novel landscapes. I’m honored to count these deeply thoughtful professionals as part of our Sunday Morning Café community! A heartfelt thanks to each of you.

You might recall that the last time you heard from me, I was wrestling with a fair amount of childhood-based neurosis regarding an upcoming adventure of a lifetime: a trip to Africa. Namely, I felt unworthy to receive such an extravagant opportunity. Having tracked down the source of that neurosis, I determined, that while on my trip, I would practice a form of “sacred cognitive therapy.” Whenever I experienced a “you don’t deserve this” moment, I imagined the current…post-death…redeemed…version of my dad wanting so much more than that for his son. By going back to the source of my neurosis and recruiting him as a spiritual ally, I was able to more effectively take in the grandeur of the present moment.

But, in the last analysis, the most profound strategy to combat my intergenerational wound ended up not being a strategy at all. It ended up being more of a perspective that I adopted. It came as an idea from my profoundly wise spiritual director, Julie O’Connor. Thank God that despite the crush of pre-trip housecleaning, planning, and packing, I kept my spiritual direction appointment. After hearing my tired and ancient old tale of unworthiness, my wise mentor recommended framing this trip as a “pilgrimage,” rather than a “vacation.” That’s just what I did.

An Ancient Spiritual Practice

Every religious tradition practices some form of pilgrimage. In my tradition of Catholicism, the pilgrimage is popularly thought of in terms of a traditional, and officially sanctioned places where people go to pray, and often receive a miracle. In the deeper down tradition of pilgrimages, they are seen more as journeys that involve taking you out of your comfort zone. The purpose for setting aside comfort, taking up the beggars bundle, and hitting the open road, is to open oneself for an encounter, not of one’s own making. Call it “Sacred Presence.” Call it “Holy Mystery.” Call it “God” in one of God’s pluriform names. The goal of the pilgrimage is Encounter with the Ground and the Horizon of one’s being. The walking shoes for this journey: poverty of spirit, or openness. It takes years of unpacking to fully appreciate and integrate the spiritual fruit of such a process.

What Happened on My Pilgrimage (So Far)

I am out of Africa only about a week now. I don’t pretend to have fully digested this rich, multi-layered experience. What I can do is take you back with me to walk and sit at one of the most sacred places on Earth. The local Botanga people have always called it, “Mosi-oa-Tunya.” Literally translated, “The Smoke That Thunders.”

Zimbabwe can be thought of as a breathtakingly beautiful, proud woman decimated by generations of greed and corruption. The one thing that the brutal succession of serial suitors couldn’t get to…couldn’t take from her… was her inner sanctum, that place where her smoke still thunders…the place the British called, “Victoria Falls.”

Our summer is Zimbabwe’s winter. In August, an already arid landscape becomes all dust and withered leaves—until you pull into the parking lot at the entrance of the Falls. What you notice first, is a colorful jangle of vendors hawking every manner of art, clothing, and jewelry. Just behind them, compliments of the Falls, a year-round lush rain forest perfumes the air. Once into the park, a shady, wild botanical garden absorbs you. A semi-permeable canopy stretches over the pathway allowing occasional streams of light to splash through and collect into pools on waxy leaves. That pathway snakes along a waterfall that stretches maybe ½ of a mile or more. Nine tributary-like paths branch off of that main path at intervals along the way. Each leads to a promontory—a lookout— that reveals a sheer cliff’s edge plunging more than a hundred yards straight down. At one point, Lizzie, my daughter, wanted to get a closer look. She climbed under the chain meant to keep tourists out (and alive!). It’s been years since her dad yelled at her like that. To this day, her dad isn’t the least bit sorry that he did!

Eventually, we found a spot away from the tourists. On three flat rocks we sat. Mosi-ao-Tunya immediately enfolded us in her misty mystic embrace. Lifting my face, I could simultaneously feel sun warming my face, and a gentle glaze constantly coating every part of me. When I opened my eyes, just like Noah of Genesis, rainbows gathered with their promises, “that all would be well, and every manner of things would be well.” Across the way, like stained glass, the cascades of water took on the colors of the rocks showing through. That made Mosi-ao-Tunya dazzle in a coat of vivid greens, blues, and grays, streaked with bands of frothy, roiling meringue. That’s when the Falls spoke to me. “Tom, what will you send over my falls?” As I allowed that message to move through the spiral passageways deeper and deeper into my heart, it occurred to me that the Zambezi River, across yonder chasm, never held back anything from this Lady. That constant surrender, that ongoing kenosis (i.e. self-emptying), is the very source of the Ineffable Beauty that was just now, somehow, speaking to me.

Since my pilgrimage, I’ve returned to that Falls daily as I’ve noticed the constant river of ego-inspired resentments, comparisons, and self-criticisms. I think of the Zambezi River. In each instance the icon of that blue-green-gray-frothy Falls emerges. And I obey. One-at-a-time, a day-at-a-time, I send each of them over the Falls to disappear like smoke into the misty Mystic.

Dialogue and Discussion Questions: Longtime SMC readers know that “the Dialogue” section of this article is set aside for a good conversation over a cup of coffee—with a friend, with a group, or just with yourself! As always, feel free to share your reaction or reflection in the “Comments” section below.

• Pilgrimages don’t require an expensive plane ticket. In a world saturated by the Sacred, an “Eighth Wonder of the World” may be hiding right around the corner from you. When life-sized challenges or transitions show up for one of my clients, I nearly always recommend a half or full day pilgrimage. I direct them to pack a lunch or snacks with plenty of water, along with a journal. They are to step into nature for a sizable amount of time. The directive is to do nothing more than listen and see. Nature is loaded with symbols and poetry. At some point, they are to sit, and write what they’ve noticed. Sometimes a client will write a letter to a beloved deceased relative, or to God. Sometimes that relative, or God, will have a message for them. Sometimes a simple journal entry shows up. At other times clients return home with a poem or a song, or even a piece of artwork. I never know the content of what they will find. Sometimes it takes time to discern the content of what shows up. Is there anything going on in your life right now that’s worthy of a half day or day long pilgrimage? Would you be willing to share that with a dialogue partner?

• Along the same lines. An even easier form of pilgrimage is recommended by the great  Tich Nhat Hanh. In his “walking meditation,” he recommends kicking off your shoes, to go for a slow walk simply being fully mindful of each step and each experience. A park or retreat center grounds will work nicely. I’ve known many Franciscan nuns and friars to do the same.  For them, the world is shot through by Loving Presence. Their barefoot walk is done in the spirit of Centering Prayer.  One sends every thought over the Falls to simply rest in Divine Presence as you slowly walk. If you should try this on as an experiment, who will you talk to about the experience?  

• When are some significant moments in your life when you’ve had to let something go over the Falls? How did you come to know that you needed to do that? How did you do that? What supports did you use?

• Is there anything in your life right now that needs to go over the Falls?  Based upon your accumulated wisdom, what do you think would help you in the letting go process?

Please share with the SMC community your thoughts and/or reflections in the comments below.