Pilgrimage
Out of the Comfort Zone
The following is the second entry in my little flip-top journal for Wednesday, September 26: Day 2 St. Jean Pied de Port, France.Jambon de Bayonne. Ham is in every meal in Spain. Breakfast desayuno, butter stick con chocolate. Protest 9/26 in Pamplona. Many people. Bloody
We are all pilgrims
Pilgrim, Who Calls You?
Fuentes Espirituales
Rest in Astorga
Art Centers Of Europe 2015
Finding Chagall in Nice
To find the Chagall Museum in Nice was a triumph in what otherwise felt like a slightly unreal city filled with airy villas, impressive Belle Epoch structures and Rococco churches…a place full of eye candy with cocoa skinned Europeans strolling and sunning on the French
Modular Gaudi?
Landing
Wings Over Spain
We start this pilgrimage in Barcelona
Day 1: Arriving in Porto
It has been a grueling day and night of travel: We left yesterday morning and trained to Boston Logan, flew to Philly, then all night to Lisbon. Once in Lisbon we took a train to Porto and wandered around getting a meal and our pilgrim
The blog that went silent
Camino Stride
Mochila
Training for Portugal
Pilgrim out of Canterbury Tales
Geoffrey Chaucer captures the quintessential pilgrim flavor: Whan that Aprille with his shoures soote The droghte of Marche hath perced to the roote, And bathed every veyne in swich licour, Of which vertu engendred is the flour; Whan Zephirus eek with his swete breeth
Pilgrim, Who Calls You?
This profound poem, writ large, is inscribed in huge calligraphic perfection on a long wall on the outskirts of Najera, Spain on the Camino de Santiago. It is a beautiful poem written for pilgrims in Spanish. I don’t know Spanish very well, but photographed it,
Ultreia!…et Susiea!
First BIG Pilgrim Moment
The next morning up and over the mountain we went, to Roncesvalles, Spain.
Coming down the steep in the late afternoon we could see it through the trees.
A Guido on the Camino
About Me
Majesterium is the name I have given to a body of inspired writings I have been transcribing in my journals over the course of many years since I began a practice of meditation. They are the fruits of that practice when I began to tune inward towards the internal “still, small voice” which spoke to me with such authority and gave me such loving guidance that I feel compelled to share the more universal of these writings with you, dear unknown friends.
