Today we went on a little journey to Montserrat, a Catholic monestary at the top of a mountain an hour’s train ride from Barcelona. We decided to take the “cable car” aka the gondola, so we could see the views. I was terrified as I waited to board.
But the ride went very quickly and, oddly, I wasn’t afraid at all. Maybe I’m losing my fear of heights?
The view was spectacular.
The church was equally as breathtaking.
As we walked out of the church we saw a long line and wondered what it was for and if it was worth the trouble of standing in it. We realized it was the line to look at the sculpture of the black Madonna. We decided to check it out since we were there.
Now I’m not Catholic at all so this held no spiritual significance for me. But as I climbed the stairs to the black Madonna I did have a kind of epiphany. The several people in front of me took photos of the statues as they passed by. Some of them selfies, some of the relatives standing next to it. I was kind of tempted to also take a photo, being caught up in the crowd mentality. However, something inside of me said, “Monica, put your camera away and be in this moment.” And indeed, I felt a bit repulsed by all of the snapshots.
So I walked up to the black Madonna and looked at her and touched her foot. And you know what? I don’t need a photo to remember that moment. It was a good moment, sans photo.
It was a moment that is making me question the way we humans constantly take ourselves out of the moment so we can create a tangible thing that will help us remember “a moment.”what exactly are we trying to remember when we do this? Why not just experience the moment?
These were my thoughts as I touched the black madonna’s foot.
I will leave you with another amazing view from the top.