Contemplative Peregrination as Nature Walk

“I am the path, inviting you into the warm woods. Silphium sparkles in the dappled sunlight like swaying fairies on the forest floor. My tall, sturdy trees will lead you, hold you in the bower of my canopy. My shimmering path will guide you and hold you though you enter the unknown.”

There are many ways to take a hike, especially with camera in hand. A time-honored way of experiencing a foray into the natural world is a contemplative walk. One type — a photographic peregrination — can help you see the world in new ways and spur new insights.

In early summer, I was at Bur Oak’s Turkey Creek Nature Preserve on such a peregrination, a journey that was part of a wonderful series of workshops entitled “Nature Photography and the Soul’s Slow Ripening” led by Prairiewoods Franciscan Spirituality Center’s Angie Pierce Jennings, based on Christine Valters Paintner’s book “The Soul’s Slow Ripening: 12 Celtic Practices for Seeking the Sacred” (Sorin Books, 2018).

“I am the creek, the path quickening. My flow is swift, and hard obstacles hide beneath. But my water flows over them, not stopping, creating my own unique movement atop them, rounding their sharp edges over time.”

Angie and our group took our cues from Paintner’s philosophical explorations and her practical suggestions for contemplative photography exercises. On the day I visited Turkey Creek, I was practicing peregrination, a wandering in which we let go of agendas and destinations, when we just let the wind of the spirit — however we define or perceive that — to move us from behind, just as the wandering Celtic saints did when they followed wherever God would lead them.

I am especially interested in the relationship between photography and writing, and each of Paintner’s chapters includes one or more writing exercises to accompany the picture-taking (or, as she says, picture-receiving) activity. On the peregrination, Paintner invites us not to be overly analytical or intentional in what we choose to photograph, but to be open to images that call our attention, that “shimmer” for us. We should pause and give ourselves over to the object or scene for a few moments, and then let the camera “receive” an image if we are so moved.

At home, Paintner’s peregrination exercise asks us to contemplate the images we have received once again and to let three or four draw us in for more in-depth attention. Paintner says to then write a brief statement or two for each image using the voice of the image itself, beginning with “I am,” “to speak from the voice of colors, symbols, objects, shapes, and so forth, as a way of entering into this perspective on the world.”

“I am prairie, opening and widening the path before you. I am also bursting with new life — late spring flowers and grasses, a young oak strengthening. My bold blue sky above gives you a boundless roof yet comforting certainty. My horizon is broad and far. Much lies beyond, waiting only for you to approach.”

From there, we are to look at the connections between the images and statements, the story it tells, and as a final exercise, to create a seven-line poem. From the statements, you choose seven words that once again “shimmer” for you or strike you particularly. Write each of those words down on a slip of paper, put them in a bowl and shuffle them, and then, without look at what’s written on the slips of paper, choose one of those slips of paper randomly.

“I am a miraculous new life. I am on your path—a surprise, an inspiration, a sign that this path will bring you new joy and beauty. I am sleeping here, safe, protected for now, yet I am vulnerable. I need care and nurturing, just as you do on this new path.”

Write one line of poetry using that word, allowing yourself just a minute or two. Like the contemplative walk taking you where it will, Paintner says, “Try not to think too much about the process … Be curious and playful.” After your first line of poetry is complete, randomly pick a second slip of paper with one of your words, write another line, and so forth. Don’t cheat! Use the words as they come without rearranging them or trading slips for a new one. As Paintner says, “This is an exercise in following the thread and where it takes you, as you do not know which word
will arrive next.”

So below is the result of my Turkey Creek contemplative peregrination. If you embark on this activity, it may or may not result in the most spectacular photos you ever took or the most brilliant writing you’ve ever done, but I can guarantee the whole process will provide you with a new experience and perspective on your nature walk, and maybe some new insight into your relationship with the world we live in.

Light and life are quickening.
The horizon brightens and fills with the flight of wrens.
The dappled brook reflects the light of summer sun.
I am vulnerable as I skim the water surface and swish among the grasses.
I seek the bower to hold me close and sweet,
Nurturing me to a new rebirth,
A boundless promise of open possibility.