A pilgrim is someone who undertakes a long, often arduous, journey to a sacred place. It isn’t an exercise in sightseeing, but rather a quest to grow spiritually, writes Anna Beresford.
It is an invitation to discern what is important, and what gives life purpose and meaning. Undertaken correctly, it can be the catalyst for a sense of serenity and, at times, renewed hope and healing.
While the popular understanding of a pilgrimage speaks of a physical endeavour, often travelling across vast distances like the Camino, my work as a chaplain in a psychiatric hospital has taught me that some of the most arduous pilgrimages are undertaken within. The role of a chaplain is one of accompaniment and, as such, we too become pilgrims, carefully and gently walking with the patient towards their individual sacred place.
Mental illnesses are very much an invisible burden, as are many of the incidents that contributed to their occurrence. Although society has come a long way, there is still considerable misunderstanding around mental illness. People living with mental illness often feel isolated, alone, and even ashamed. This leads to a life lived in secret.
For an astonishing number of people, a history of childhood neglect, abuse or trauma has contributed to the development of mental illness. Obviously, this isn’t something that is easily talked about. Psychiatrists and psychologists offer important and vital clinical care, but of equal importance is the one who accompanies with no agenda; the one who is happy to sit quietly while everyone catches their metaphorical breath; the one who has the time to take a circuitous path so that the destination can be approached from a less-threatening direction.
Other people labour under the burden of a diagnosis. Bipolar, borderline and schizophrenic are labels that carry a lot of baggage and can alter the way people are viewed. The occasional lurid headlines and news coverage after incidents involving people suffering a mental health episode don’t help. Indeed, these illnesses often change the way people view themselves. Patients often talk of encountering the stranger that looks at them from out of their mirrors.
These ‘secret lives’ often result in people not seeking help for their condition, or hiding the reason for being absent from work or home. I’ve known patients who have told family (even spouses and children) that they’re going on a two-to-three week yoga retreat. Others have used all their annual leave and are taking leave without pay so as not to have to explain why they need to access so much sick leave.
Often patients need to come to terms with the fact that, while largely manageable, many mental illnesses are chronic. This can lead to a loss of hope, and feelings of fear and despair. Indeed, one of the cruellest symptoms of depression and anxiety is the inability to imagine that things can ever improve.
For those with a history of trauma, the simple fact is that they can’t go back in time and ‘undo’ whatever happened to them. An important part of the internal pilgrimage is the beginning of an understanding that while there may be little prospect of a ‘cure’, there is always the possibility of ‘healing’.
There is an important difference between cure and healing, and it’s this realisation that can contribute to a renewed sense of hope. Cure can usually only take one form – the elimination of whatever has caused, or is causing, the disease. Healing, on the other hand, can take many forms.
This is where the real ‘pilgrimage’ begins, with a gentle encouragement to dare to consider what that healing might look like. Nothing is imposed, a chaplain’s role isn’t akin to that of a GP. They are there to accompany and, when appropriate, help to decipher the roadmap.
For some, healing can simply be the realisation that we are all vulnerable, broken people. There are times in all our lives when we will need help from others, just as there will be times when we will be able to help those who are struggling. Vulnerability isn’t a weakness, it’s part of the human condition, so it’s okay not to be okay.
Sometimes healing begins when someone realises that they are worthy of love, that they are enough, just as they are. This is an alien concept for many who have endured childhood neglect or trauma, domestic violence, or bullying, as they are often led to believe that it’s something they have done that has caused the violence.
A difficult part of this journey is finally beginning to let go of past trauma, resentment, and grudges; not for the sake of those who have caused hurt, but for the freedom and autonomy that gives.
Healing can be the knowledge that a diagnosis doesn’t need to redefine who you are. Yes, allowances will need to be made to accommodate symptoms, but someone with a mental health diagnosis doesn’t cease to be; they are still mothers, daughters, spouses, sons, colleagues, mentors, confidantes.
Healing can be giving yourself permission to grieve the losses that living with a mental health condition may have caused: a necessary change in employment, or even unemployment; studies interrupted; relationships strained.
The impact that ‘non-death grief’ can have on someone’s life isn’t generally recognised – no one has died, so what’s the problem? The problem is that dreams can (and do) die, and that needs to be acknowledged.
The concept of pilgrimage has the expectation that there will be a point when the journey has ended. For a spiritual journey, that’s not the case – we are all works in progress.
However, there are ‘markers’ along the road that highlight that progress has been made. Sometimes these markers can be difficult to spot. It may be a morning without tears; the ability to smile at a joke; saying ‘no’ to an unreasonable request; a fleeting sense of peace and serenity.
Pope Leo urges to become pilgrims of hope: Peoples, nations, and all creatures need those who choose to move towards communion. Others will follow. Let us return to building bridges where there are now walls. Let us open doors, connect worlds, and hope will spring forth (Rome, 14 June 2025).
To effectively fulfil their ministry, chaplains must become fellow pilgrims; accompanying those brave enough to undertake the arduous pilgrimage to those hidden, painful, but sacred places within.
That role is a privilege. We are present as walls are slowly dismantled – brick by brick; when doors are opened just a crack then, sometimes, quickly shut again. We are also there to point out the markers, signs that progress has been made and can continue to be made. Our role is to accompany, listen, encourage, validate and, ultimately, to instill hope that a better future is possible.
