The Start of the Journey

We have returned from our pilgrimage and I am sort of feeling like things should be more different. Like I would have come back a little different. And though in some ways I have, it all still feels the same.

I cannot really compare the feeling to that of which I had upon my return from WYD in Canada in 2002, when I came back an inspired, enlightened sixteen-year-old girl ready to take on the world with a courageous spirit. Even disregarding this cold that consumed me the night we slept out at Randwick, I still feel kind of down. Well ‘down’ probably isn’t the most accurate word. I guess I just don’t feel quite as ‘inspired’ as I thought I would in the aftermath.

Maybe I expected too much from the experience. Perhaps at twenty-two, I simply underestimated how much I already know about life and myself.

As per usual, I’ve made it sound overly-dramatic, when in fact I did get a lot out of World Youth Day. The last thing I want to do is wallow in self-pity and pessimistic contemplation, I just didn’t expect that this is how I would feel (whatever this feeling is) when I returned home.

Overall, I did enjoy the week in Sydney. I am thankful for the challenges that strengthened my faith. That drew my family closer. That tested my capacity to understand, to love.

I am thankful for the spiritual encounters. Pope Benedict’s inspiring words. The power of the Holy Spirit. The hope and the peace that it showered upon me.

The end of the pilgrimage is only the start of my journey. I go forth less afraid.