Hermitage of the Carceri

Today was a hard day, in a number of ways. It was a day of silence and of intense climbing. First I forgot my walking stick at our guesthouse and had to run back for it while the others waited for me. I knew I would not be able to do this climb without it for balance and support. Then our leader somehow became confused and we wandered for at least 45 minutes trying to find where the path up to the Hermitage left the road. As often happens, when everything feels insurmountable, it was a day of blessings and beauty.

This morning seven of us were starting out to make the intense four mile climb straight up the mountain to Francis of Assisi's retreat where he and the brothers would go to find peace, solitude and time for prayer. Here away from the crowds and demands of their ministry, they found their spiritual reserve, so they could continue their intense work in the city streets.

I can't imagine how long it would take them after begging for their food the day before and making the dizzying climb in sandals that could feel every stone and rock on the mountain.

The hermitage at Carceri is a series of grottoes, caves. When I walked into Francis' grotto and saw the stone floor that is rough and hard, worn shiny by Francis' body when he slept there on the jagged rocks. Francis always used a rock for a pillow.

Saint Francis, Friar Leone and Friar Ginepro admire the sky

I was glad to see that he took time for rest and enjoying nature that he so deeply loved. There is a bronze sculpture of him lying on the ground with his sandals removed as he gazed at the stars!  Next to him two of the Brothers stand also studying the sky.

My journey to the top was a real test of strength and stamina. Sometimes I remind myself that this is not just a journey of my personal survival. Sometimes I call my attention back from labored breathing and heart pounding, to the intention of this experience. I then hear the hundreds and thousands of bird songs filling the air and I see the intense colors of the flowers all along the way and the hundreds of butterflies of differing colors swarming around the butterfly bushes that line the trail. I feel the air changing as I climb higher. I see how high I am as I look out into the valley below and beyond. I feel like I am walking in the tree tops and the gentle breeze refreshes.

Today medium size butterflies of intense gold color outlined with deep brown or black were flying around my head and body. It was surreal. Whenever butterflies show up like this, I connect with the Ancestors. I wondered who was walking with me today: Frankie, Mom, Dad, Grandmothers, my dear friends and many more.

I have a butterfly bush in my yard at home. The Ancestors are always welcome. It is on their shoulders that I stand. Someday our children and those after them, for generations, will stand on our shoulders. I am reminded to be the best that I can be for the day when a butterfly reminds the next generation and the generation after that, that I am still around and willing to help if you need me.

Pastor Carol