The Spiritual Exercises written by St. Ignatius of Loyola profess that freedom comes from releasing our hold on possessions, people, and ideas. As we gradually learn to let go, our ego shrinks, taking its place in the background, and we come to understand a little more of what is to love God with our whole selves. I learned many years ago, the value of letting go of possessions and am well known among my circle of friends and family as being a bit of a minimalist. It is a skill that certainly made my cross country moves easier. I have held on to the essentials and the "just in case" extra dishes and glassware but there are many things I only own two of - one to use now and one for the laundry. When I travel I like to make a game of only taking what I think I will need. I come home especially pleased if I wore everything I packed and there were no extras or unnecessary weight that went to and from my destination. But I learned a valuable lesson recently on my pilgrimage to the Camino Ignaciano when a fellow pilgrim arrived with only her carryon luggage in tow. Any frequent traveler has experienced this feeling of unwelcome lightness and it is always a little disturbing. You walk about knowing that something is missing and as if your feet are no longer in touch with the ground. But you remind yourself that mistakes happen, you've been through this before, and your luggage will eventually catch up with you.
The word of Kelly's missing luggage was disseminated through our group's What's App texts long before we ever met its owner. Her husband walked into the first group meeting introducing himself and assuring us that Kelly would also soon be in attendance. As she entered the room, I was struck by her calm demeanor. She gently took a seat and joked lightly about her lack of luggage. In the days that followed I would never see her without that same serene smile.
The itinerary of the pilgrimage was arranged so that we would have 2-3 nights in each location so we were all fairly certain that the missing suitcase would appear before leaving Azpeitia, the home town of Ignatius of Loyola. Kelly worked with our host at the retreat center to speak with the travel agent and airport representatives to locate the wayward luggage. No luck. So off we went to Javier and still there was no sign of it. All the while Kelly appeared each looking fresh and clean with that smile and often the white shirt we met her in on Day 1. Now and then she and her husband would peel off from our group travels to locate a grocery store and emerge with a new shirt, a pair of shower shoes or other necessity. They purchased only what was needed. Every few days I would ask about the progress of finding her suitcase; she always responded with a voice that could only be called calm and placid. There was never a hint of frustration or irritability. I was amazed and the entire entourage all began to learn the lesson of true freedom through her. Kelly had everything she needed: her loving husband by her side, she was part of a long awaited pilgrimage to follow in the footsteps of St. Ignatius, and was deeply loved and in love with God. She could live the rest of her life without whatever was in that suitcase. She had proved that over the last 12 days.
There was word of the lost luggage in Monserrat, again in Manresa, and yet again in Barcelona, the point of their return flight to Cleveland. We joked that she could just recheck it on her homebound flight. But, incredible as it may seem, she left Spain with only her carryon and few shopping bags she had collected along the journey. And it wasn't until a week later that she and her suitcase were reunited.
I am grateful to have learned the importance of staying in the present moment on this pilgrimage. Kelly's suitcase reminded me again that everything you need will be provided.
