Part 5. Camino de Santiago: What does Pilgrimage mean? (朝圣的意义是什么?)
- cwang2384
- Dec 27, 2025
- 5 min read

"一位美国作家朋友(杂志社的执行编辑)写给我:“我走过几次朝圣之路,我知道它的意义在于让我们学会被引领。但这不是奴性的顺从,恰恰相反。一路上的匮乏,正是区分游客、旅人和朝圣者的关键。而那些意外的馈赠,往往细小,却深刻;只有你自己能感知。”
My writer friend (a managing editor of a prominent magazine) wrote to me: “Having been on certain pilgrimages, I do know that they're meant to train us to be led. Not in a slavish way; precisely the opposite. There are privations that distinguish the tourist or even the journeyman from the pilgrim. And the surprises tend to be small but profound. Little gifts visible, sensible to you alone.”
Among the many thoughts people shared with me on my Camino journey, his comment resonated most with me at the moment.
In the darkness, I watched every step carefully across the gravel, sand, stone, and mud surface of the trail, following Camino signage (the shining yellow arrow and the scallop shell) to ensure I was on the right path. These shining yellow arrows, beyond simple navigation, symbolize courage, hope, and the selfless support pilgrims receive along the way.

The serenity and steady rhythm of my footsteps put me into a meditative state. I pondered as I walked, contemplating my intense desire for both worldly pleasures and spiritual growth as my main reason for walking the Camino. I wondered what the differences are between the two: touring metropolises like Rome, Paris, Barcelona, or Madrid as a tourist and walking the Camino de Santiago as a pilgrim.
We all venture out to explore the world. So, what does pilgrimage mean?
In my nature, I tend to follow others in so many ways. For example, when I leave a flight, I always follow the crowd out of the airport, not even knowing who is leading. And every Thursday, I look out the window to see which color trash bin my neighbors pull out to the curb to decide whether it’s the recycling or trash bin I should pull out.
However, over my four decades of culture crossing from the “Kingdom of the East” to the “Beacon of the West,” especially during the last decade of transitioning from a high-tech engineering career to becoming a full-time writer, I began to notice that deep down, I have another side of myself that does not follow others. A successful writing life requires an independent mind to build one's own ideas by liberating one's spirit (where inspiration, introspection, and self-discovery often occur). In contrast, Confucius' teachings (which are deeply rooted in most Chinese people, including me) heavily emphasize “self-restraint and return to propriety” (克己复礼), focusing on collectivism and ethical life in the "here and now” and deliberately eschewing abstract, transcendent metaphysical speculation. I began to sense a subtle internal shift away from my Eastern traditions toward a more independent approach and questioned myself radically:
“Am I a tourist or a pilgrim?”
Most of the time, I didn’t know how to answer this question, but I was just thrilled by its emergence, even though it was a baby step. “A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step.” The words of the ancient Chinese philosopher Laozi felt right for me.
On the surface, tourists tend to focus more on external sights and scenes, taking photographs and collecting souvenirs, while pilgrims are on an inner journey, seeking spiritual growth, personal transformation, and connection to their sacred inner space.
I have done plenty of touring around the world. Now, I want to turn inward and focus on what’s inside myself, much like pilgrims do.
But where to begin a pilgrimage?

Walking the Camino de Santiago is one way – if not the best way – to do that.
On the surface, walking the Camino involves relinquishing control to a fixed itinerary and following a marked trail. But the significance lies beneath that, where my mind is completely liberated, my senses become especially alert, and I turn inward to connect with my true self and discover who I am – and who I want to be. This embodies the spirit of forging my own path rather than being a sheep in a herd. It is intended to be a disciplined practice of sacred awareness that can’t be achieved on the familiar trail near home, or even less so when trudging through a crowded, touristy metropolis, where sensibility and alertness seem absent altogether.
This realization struck me: the true pilgrimage is not a road or a street anywhere, but a journey residing inside us — a journey one can only feel rather than see with the eyes. The Pilgrimage spirit lies primarily in the motivation, mindset, and intended outcome of the journey, which is more mental and emotional than physical and material.
While tourists seek fleeting moments of external exhilaration and fun (I was, and still am, into that from time to time), a pilgrim seeks internal transformation and spiritual ramifications that stay with us long afterwards—and grow over time.

As daylight broke, I gradually sensed its subtlety and depth as the Camino pilgrimage unfolded. How similar is it for a tourist to become a pilgrim and for a reader to become a writer? Or for a spectator to become the one fighting in the arena? The desire to express our thoughts and emotions lies within most of us. It’s only a matter of how each of us brings it out to share with the world.
The Camino leads to Santiago, marking the end of the physical trail. However, the pilgrimage as an inner journey has no such end. All the images of the sights we experienced, the indigenous food we enjoyed, and the people we met, along with the stories we shared, remain within us long after the journey ends and continue to grow. This ongoing and growing connection between other people and us, their cultures, and the outside world. That is the true meaning of pilgrimage.
Camino 通往圣地亚哥,那是旅程的终点;然而,作为内在的朝圣之旅却永无止境。我们捕捉到的所有风景画面、品尝到的美食、遇到的所有人以及他们的故事,都会依然留存,并丰富我们的内心世界。我们与他人、他们的文化以及外部世界之间这种持续不断且日益加深的联系。正是朝圣的意义所在。
“Our life is only what we make of it.” – Author, Cheng Wang.



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