The Pilgrim on Pilgrimage

How pilgrimage, Chimayó & Arthur Brooks come together in a grand experiment.

My word of the year is experiment.

One of the things I am experimenting with is pilgrimage.

It began over two years ago. I completed two one-week walks on the Camino de Santiago in Spain—one as part of a small group with Walking Mentorship and a solo walk that immediately followed. I wrote about these experiences in Camino Magic and Walking the Way. 

Then I committed to make an annual pilgrimage somewhere in the world. 

Where I do the pilgrimage—and how—will vary.

In the first year, I hiked a stretch of the Congo Nile Trail in Western Rwanda with my husband. The year after, I co-led a Walking Mentorship walk in Costa Vicentina, Portugal. I found it yet another way that travel can lead one to think differently about the world and their place in it. So I folded an annual Walking Mentorship walk into my professional world of coaching and curating Venture Travel.

It got me thinking.

• What exactly is a pilgrimage?
• If I make regular pilgrimages, does that make me a pilgrim?

If you grew up in the U.S., when you hear the word pilgrim, this is what you see:

A pilgrim is one who makes a pilgrimage. Yet I’ve never heard the pilgrims’ 1620 journey across the Atlantic on the Mayflower described as a pilgrimage.

Pilgrimages often have religious significance—as in Muslims making the Hajj to Mecca, or Catholics traveling to the shrine at Lourdes.

I didn’t walk the Camino de Santiago in Spain for religious reasons. I would describe my want as spiritual connection. Along the way, I felt a kinship to European ancestors I’ve never met. I connected to fellow walkers who have become pillars in my life. Most importantly, I bridged the girl I once was with the woman I wish to be.

So yes, I am a pilgrim. Because a pilgrim takes pilgrimages.

A pilgrimage is a transformative journey to a place of special significance, typically undertaken for spiritual, religious, or personal reasons. Unlike a vacation, the primary focus of a pilgrimage is often the inner change that occurs through the act of traveling.

There are two things I regularly say:

• When you travel differently, you think differently
• Travel as a partner, not a tourist

With this mindset, travel becomes a tool—not a source of entertainment and escape, but an intentional journey. It detaches us from daily life. In some way, it pushes us. It leads us to a better version of ourself.

So does a pilgrimage. Now that I’m committed, I find pilgrimage is everywhere.

There is a beautiful 200 year-old adobe church in Northern New Mexico called Santuario de Chimayó. 

It’s known for the unusual legend of its creation and its “holy dirt” which is believed to have miraculous healing powers. Some call it the “Lourdes of America.” Chimayó welcomes about 300,000 visitors per year.

I learned the largest pilgrimage in the U.S. ends at the Santuario de Chimayó during the Easter Holy Week. More than 30,000 annually make the pilgrimage—walking a few miles to a few hundred miles. Some walk for religious reasons; others walk for tradition, culture and community.

My local New Mexico History Museum launched an exhibition called Chimayó: A Tradition of Faith exploring the history and spiritual significance of the annual Chimayó pilgrimage. I explored the exhibit; I attended the talks. I did more research.

I think you know where all this is going. 

I committed to walk on Good Friday for 21 miles from my home north of Santa Fe to the Santuario de Chimayó.

This pilgrimage is an experiment.

I knew nothing about the Chimayó legend and tradition prior to my recent move to New Mexico. 

I’ll admit, I’m a bit nervous about the full-day distance. While I have a general plan, I don’t know exactly how the weather and logistics will play out. Knowing I am among 30,000 pilgrims gives me some comfort.

Then I did what most reasonable people do not do in uncertainty.

I invited others to join.

I didn’t invite just anyone. I invited the special people who walked with me one year ago in Costa Vicentina, Portugal. 

They understand the assignment. They’ve demonstrated their physical ability. They can roll with things. They know it’s an experiment. They trust me.

I expected one or two would say yes. The next thing I knew I was researching nearby overflow lodging options. 

On Good Friday, five us will walk to the Santuario de Chimayó. 

It will not be grand or global. It will be simple and local. 

The grounds we walk will have been trodden by millions. They carried water and backpacks. Many also carried photos, burdens and beliefs. 

We will, too.

On the eve of Holy Week, I join Arthur Brooks’ The Meaning of Your Life book launch event. I open the web page. My jaw drops as I’m welcomed with this message: 

When you are committed to pilgrimage, you really do find it everywhere!

As I listen to Arthur speak, I think of the week ahead. The pilgrimage is now a group experiment. It is full of uncertainty. It will be a struggle. Our bodies will ache.

So why did I—and everyone else—quickly say yes?

Because we know this is where the meaning happens.

And that is Arthur’s point. We are people who have been raised on the idea of life as a checklist. We are successful. We plan. We get sh** done. 

A pilgrimage interrupts all of that. 

So let’s design one on purpose. We will replace achievement with awareness. Trade certainty for meaning. Exchange answers for questions. 

Our walk is less about the mileage. It’s about the questions we ask ourselves. Perhaps the most important one:

Where in my life am I still living by checklist…instead of walking as a pilgrim?

Want to hear what happens on this Chimayó Pilgrimage experiment? Make sure to subscribe to Let’s Venture. If you are ready for your own pilgrimage, join me and Walking Mentorship in September 2026 for our one-week Camino de Santiago adventure—see Venture Travel.