Can sacred travel later in life still change your life? As I approached age 70, I wasn’t sure. I was looking forward to retirement, but the Universe had other plans. Instead of slowing down, I spent the next ten years rebuilding my health and financial footing.
Some things remained the same. I continued working as an ASID interior designer and stayed close to my family and spiritual community. Life was good, but not quite as I had planned.
As I got closer to 80, I realized there were still places I longed to see and experience. But I found myself thinking differently about travel. I wasn’t looking for another vacation. I was looking for something meaningful. Something that gave me purpose. What I wanted was to know if the oneness I felt in my own community actually existed out there among strangers in a broken world.
I’d always loved to travel, but this time I was searching for travel that fed my soul. On a lark one night, I googled “spiritual travel,” and you guessed it, Sprit Tours came up. Their website was filled with places I’d always dreamed of visiting. So I picked up the phone and called. To my surprise, Rev Karen answered. We talked and something in her manner and spiritual background resonated with me. I said, okay, sign me up for Egypt. She told me it was fully booked, but she could put me on a waitlist. Then a spot opened up, right as I came down with a bronchial and a sinus infection. I asked if she could transfer my deposit to a future tour instead. So, we moved it to Machu Picchu that following Spring.
Looking back, I didn’t know it then, but that change was actually the beginning of something much more profound and much more personal. Over the next couple of years, four sacred journeys—to Peru, Italy, Egypt, and Uganda—would change not only how I traveled, but how I understood aging, courage, and what it truly means to belong.
Machu Picchu: The Surprise was Me
Getting to Machu Picchu wasn’t a given for me. I was recovering from seven tears in my knees and one in my hip. No surgery, just two years of on-and-off physical therapy and a lot of Qigong to build my strength back up. When I talked through my concerns with Karen she mentioned the elevation and altitude sickness knowing of my recent bronchial problem. She explained spending time in Cusco prior helps people to acclimate. I asked if walking sticks were allowed in Machu Picchu and would be helpful. She said yes and remember, “We will be there to help you.” So I decided to give it a try.
I mentioned the trip to a friend of mine whose family was originally from Peru. She had visited family there but had never actually been to Machu Picchu, but always wanted to. So I asked if she wanted to come with me. She’s a Bikram yoga instructor and was very helpful talking me through my breathing when the altitude got to me, and showing exercise movements when my feet were swollen.
I’m not going to pretend that Manchu Picchu wasn’t difficult for me. Just getting your foot up onto some of those steps is a challenge and there were no railings. I was holding onto stone walls to steady myself and planting my sticks where I could. I’d built up enough strength to do most of it. When I couldn’t, our spiritual guides and leaders were there to help as promised. By then, when there was a choice between the harder trail and the easier one, I took the easier one. I wasn’t there to prove anything to anybody. I just wanted to embrace this ancient majestic place that seemed to be on top of the world.
As I was standing there looking out at the wonder of it all, I was moved to tears. Perhaps an ancient memory stirring in my soul, or simply the exhilaration of having surprised myself that there I was in Machu Picchu and I did it!
That’s really what it came down to. By the end of that journey, I pulled Karen aside and told her I still want to go to Egypt. Did she think I could do it?
Damanhur: Magic and a Charcuterie Board
But first, my eightieth birthday was coming and I didn’t want a big party. I told my son and daughter that I’d rather travel with them to Italy and explore our heritage and get back to the roots where it all began.
While I was waiting to see if that would come together, I had my eye on a Spirit Tours Journey to Damanhur, a federation in the northern mountains of Italy where they had magical temples under the ground and explored past lives …. mmm!! It made sense to try and put the two trips together around my birthday. Past lives: a different kind of heritage that makes up the ME of today and a biological heritage of ME and my descendants. Perfect! And it wouldn’t be as physically taxing as Peru was. Or so I thought.
The very first outing from Damanhur was to Mount San Michele. I will never forget it. We got out of our van and I looked up at this magnificent structure sitting on top of the mountain amongst the clouds. I somehow expected that we’d be shuttled the rest of the way. Instead, someone pointed at what looked like several hundred steps going straight up the mountain to the top.
Yup, we walked to the top with very little to hold on to. Just my walking sticks and me. About half way up and the elevation increasing, I started to tire and get short of breath. I didn’t like the feeling that I was holding everyone up; that was almost harder than the climb itself. Nobody rushed me. When I finally reached the top, the group applauded. I found out that day that I could do a lot more than I gave myself credit for.
Learning to Simply Be
Damanhur itself is its own kind of place. In many ways, it’s a very different type of experience. There’s a mystical, almost mysterious, quality about it. In some ways it reminded me of the commune and hippie days of my era but much more purposeful and organized. The entire community is dedicated to the oneness and preservation of humankind. Their daily lives revolve around shared community, environmental sustainability, organic farming, and holistic healing.
As a visitor, you stay right in the community, sharing space and rooms with others. The space I shared was sparse, no A/C and all we had was one towel per person for the week due to their conservation efforts. You purchase food at their grocery store and cook it yourself or with your group. We were out exploring most days and some of the time the store wasn’t even open when we returned.
We were told about a restaurant about a mile or so walk down the hill. So my roommate and I decided to give it a try, just to find them closed when we got there. So, back up the hill, which seemed like a mountain by then. Myself and two of the girls in our group quickly decided we weren’t cooking after a long day outing. The grocery store had amazing cheeses, cold cuts and various sundries including some very nice wine. We sat there with our little charcuterie board most evenings. And honestly, that ended up being one of my favorite memories of the trip. Quintessential Italy. Not just because of the food, but the friendship and fun it fostered. I was starting to understand and embrace the Damanhur philosophy: simplicity, sharing, love and peace.
The visions and sounds of the still dance in my head. It’s hard to believe that these people built these extraordinary subterranean temples without any formal artistic or architectural training. With each step downward into the temples, I was in complete awe of the beautiful mosaics, stained glass and frescos expressing their deep spiritual oneness with humanity.
I went in expecting to feel the immediate surge of energy I heard about. I didn’t feel it as strongly as I thought until we spent an evening in the temples in meditation with gongs and sounds taking us deeper and deeper. For the first time, I felt myself slowing down simply to receive what the place wanted to offer and teach me. A message repeated in me: “every day, in every way, just be.” I still don’t know if that was Spirit talking to me or me talking to me, but I still carry it with me.
The last few days in Damanhur were spent delving into past lives and how they relate to our current life. It promised a transformative awakening even if you aren’t sure about past lives. Apparently. this 5’3” 80-year-old was once a 7’+ Maasai spiritual leader. Hard to imagine but somehow it resonated with me. Imagine?
At the end of our tour I received an envelope containing a letter in my own handwriting. I don’t remember writing it. It basically told about my purpose in this life. I was astounded that I wrote something in such detail and depth and didn’t have recollection of it; but it was my handwriting and it felt true. Simply put “Magical Damanhur”.
As an aside, I did meet my daughter afterward and had an amazing time sharing our heritage tour. One of my walking sticks broke the first day. Somehow, I toured the next two weeks with just one and most of the time without any.
By now, I was beginning to understand that sacred travel later in life wasn’t becoming easier; it was becoming more meaningful. Each journey was asking something different of me, and each one was giving me far more in return.
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Egypt: Monumental Temples and Moments
By the time I got back from Damanhur, a spot on the Egypt tour opened up. Fortunately, I had already bought annual travel insurance. Insurance gets more expensive when you hit the eighty mark, so I figured I should get my money’s worth by traveling as much as I could in one year. I didn’t know anyone going on the trip, not even the leader. So I spoke to Karen who assured me I would love the group and Tracy Brown. (She was right.)
Of course, I was still concerned about my physical ability. After the journeys I’d been on with Karen, she was honest in saying there is a lot of walking and steps, but the only part I think you might have real trouble doing is the King’s Chamber. I remember thinking, “Joan, if you’re going to do this trip; you’d better do it now!” And so I did.
I arrived in a city of high rises and multiple lane bumper to bumper traffic. Was this New York? No, it was Cairo. I kept closing my eyes as we navigated through cars, tiny trucks piled high with stuff, looking like they would topple over any minute. Motorcycles and bicycles filled with multiple passengers cut in and out of traffic. Pedestrians tried to cross through 7 or more lanes to get to the other side.
When things seemed safe to open my eyes, there they were straight ahead: the Great Pyramids, seemingly appearing out of nowhere. We even had a glimpse of them from our hotel room. You can imagine how they’ll look but nothing compares to seeing them in person.
Being that a few of us had arrived the day before the tour started, they arranged for us to have an early preview of The Grand Egyptian Museum in Giza. It’s the newest and largest archeological museum in the world. My only exclamation was WOW! What a privilege it was to be there.
The following days were filled with visiting one temple after another; each more amazing than the one before; One statue more magnificent than another. The history, the facts, the tales, the beliefs were layered and astounding. It became overwhelming at times. When possible, it was arranged to have sacred sites nearly to ourselves; sometimes arriving before sunrise. Those moments that we shared in sacred community will stay with me forever.
Some of the most cherished times were cruising the Nile with just our group and the crew, There was time for connecting, sharing and a little R and R.
What surprised me most about Egypt weren’t the temples or the pyramids, it was the people. Our boat crew exemplified this; they took care of us with a genuine depth of kindness I wasn’t expecting at all. It was hard to leave.
A Guiding Hand at the King’s Chamber
As the tour was coming to an end, I contemplated whether to try the climb into the King’s Chamber inside the Great Pyramid. Honestly, I didn’t think I could do it. Everyone explained that there was a narrow tunnel you have to crouch down through, uneven ramps, steps, ladders and steep inclines. I decided to go with the group and if I thought it was too hard, I would just wait for them to return.
As I’m standing looking up at the Great Pyramid and the tall steps to enter, along comes my protector, a retired Navy gal that seemed to appear whenever I needed help. She says, “Come on, you can do it, I’m here.” She stood behind me and braced my back as I climbed the big steps with no rails. It seemed like the whole group was urging me on and watching out for me as I made my way through the obstacles that led to the King’s Chamber.
When we got inside and they turned all the lights off you couldn’t see an inch in front of you. I stood there in complete darkness feeling very vulnerable with my body shaking from the climb. Just then, a healing energy enfolded me; I stood there in gratitude knowing all would be well.
I used to think accepting that kind of help was a kind of giving in. That sacred journey taught me otherwise. The help people gave never diminished what I accomplished. It made those accomplishments possible. This wasn’t me failing. It was me growing.
Uganda: A Pinky Promise and a Silverback
I still had my travel insurance, and Africa had always been on my bucket list. On New Year’s Eve, I was sitting with family, telling my son-in-law about Egypt, and he asked where I was headed next. I told him that these long trips were getting harder on me. But if I’m being honest, an African safari has always been at the top of my list.
Sitting on the other side of me was, Risa, my granddaughter’s mother-in-law, who said she always wanted to go on a safari too. I just said, “Want to go?” She said, “Yes!” We pinky promised right there and then, and a few months later we arrived in Uganda.
It was the most physically challenging of all the tours. Chimpanzee and gorilla trekking was very demanding on the body. Karen warned me the gorilla trek itself might be too much for me and suggested taking the “African helicopter” option might help. It’s a contraption some enterprising porters engineered to carry seated travelers up and down the rocky mountain paths on the shoulders of 6 strong men. I’m so glad I took the helicopter, but not for the reason I expected. Honestly. it was watching the men who carried me on their shoulders and then guided us on foot through the impenetrable forest that astounded me. How careful they were, and how attentive!
At one point my porter took my camera out of my hands because he could tell I was struggling just to stay upright on the steep incline while trying to take pictures. He just started taking photos for me. Being cared for like that, carried in that way; that’s when I knew the oneness I’d been chasing this whole time was becoming real.
Looking into Ancient Eyes
One moment with a silverback gorilla has stayed with me ever since. I was perched on the side of the mountain, just trying to keep my balance when a giant silverback glanced up at me, looking me straight in the eyes. At first, I forgot we weren’t supposed to make direct eye contact and stared right back at him. We were maybe ten feet apart. As we looked deeply into each other’s eyes, there was a feeling of recognition that felt mutual, like he was saying, “I see you’re the old one in the group; so am I. Nice to meet you.” Then he shrugged and lumbered away. Neither of us felt threatened. I was completely in the moment, and it was only afterward that I remembered, oh, I wasn’t supposed to do that.
Part of why I wanted to go on African safari was my father. We used to sit together and read National Geographic when I was a kid. Frequently there would be pictures of the wildlife and tribes of Africa. He always talked about going there but never made it himself. Because of that, part of the trip was for him. And part of it was because of my love for animals.
I was mesmerized by the variety of species we experienced living in their natural habitat. In their world, it was as if we were the ones in a zoo trapped in our Land Cruisers; and yet there was a connection I felt with them, a mutual exchange of energy. There was a purpose and rhythm to their world that we’ve lost sight of as humans. I found this deeply spiritual.
Certainly, a highlight of our tour was near the end when we visited Murushasha Community School that Spirit Tours had adopted. Their greeting overwhelmed me to tears. I’ll never forget driving toward the village with all of the children lined up on the road singing to us as we approached. They continued to entertain us with song, dance and words of gratitude most of that day. Truly, it was one of the most heartwarming experiences I have ever witnessed.
The people we met in Uganda have so little, yet they are so genuine. You come home, and you see people here who have everything and are miserable. There, people who have almost nothing were the kindest, most welcoming people I’ve ever met.
Looking Back
Four tours and I don’t really think of them as four separate ones anymore. I think of them as one journey.
Each place gave me something different. Peru showed me I could surprise myself. Damanhur showed me I was stronger than I thought. Egypt taught me to accept help. Uganda showed me what oneness actually looks like, up close, in the eyes of a silverback and in the hands of a porter.
I spent recent years wondering whether that kind of oneness still existed in the world. What I came home knowing is that it does. It was there in strangers who became friends, in people who carried one another, and in the quiet generosity that seemed to meet me everywhere I went.
I came home feeling like I could do just about anything. It restored faith in myself and humanity, plain and simple.
People sometimes ask me if travel can really change your life. I think it can. These journeys didn’t make me someone new. They reminded me that I was capable of far more than I was giving myself credit for.
If you’re wondering whether sacred travel later in life is still worth it, my answer is YES; but probably not for the reasons you would expect. These journeys will ask something of you. They’ll ask you to stretch, to be uncomfortable at times, and to let people help you. In return, they may give you more than you ever imagined.
My body tells me the longest, most physically demanding journeys are probably behind me now. But there’s still plenty to see and experience. What these journeys gave me wasn’t a checklist of places I’d visited. They gave me a renewed sense of curiosity, courage, and confidence that I hope never leaves me.
Turning eighty didn’t make me look back.
It gave me every reason to keep looking forward,
About the Author
Joan Weeks is a long time member of Unity Spiritual Center of Vero Beach having served several times on their Board of Directors and various other committees. She currently works part time as the ASID Interior Designer on staff for Sunshine Furniture and is owner of Joan Johnson Interiors.
Her two children, three grandchildren and eight great-grandchildren live close by and keep her free time full of love, joy and wonderment. Having traveled extensively throughout her life, Joan feels fortunate to have found Spirit Tours at this juncture, providing exactly what she wanted and more importantly what she needed.
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