The Art of Becoming is about turning obstacles into opportunities. Drawing from philosophy, resilience, and real-life experiences, I share lessons on navigating adversity, cultivating wisdom, and living with purpose. Because in the end, life isn’t about avoiding hardship—it’s about becoming someone who thrives in it.

We won’t always have the answers, but we can search for them together.

Today, we learn how to find joy.

I hope you’ll join me.

After twenty-three days, 500 kilometers, dodging crazy Spanish drivers, running with injuries, walking through rain, sleet, snow, surviving the swath of bedbugs doing their version of Sherman’s March through Spain—and drinking one too many vino blancos—I finally finished my fifth Camino.

I haven’t fully processed this trip. There were days of blistering beauty and moments of bone-crunching monotony. Any lessons learned are either buried deep or I’m just not ready to articulate them—to you or to myself.

Every Camino reveals a theme, usually by the fifth or sixth day. Last year, I ran into death. A reminder that our last breath is always chasing us and each day is a little closer. I met widows, a mother mourning her son, a father trying to rationalize the death of his two-year-old son, and a husband slowly losing his wife to Alzheimer’s.

This year was different. Rain hounded every pilgrim. We slogged through mud, snow, and sleet. Some days were bitter cold. We endured blisters, bloody toes, bad food, bedbugs, and a thousand other inconveniences, but we weren’t miserable. This pilgrimage was defined by joy.

We were happy because we saw something on our pilgrimage we were blind to at home. Each pilgrim needs the struggle, the monotony of a single purpose-to wake up, drink coffee, walk 15 miles, wash their clothes in the sink or shower, eat dinner, drink too much wine, sleep, and repeat until they get to Santiago de Compostela. By that definition, we are all pilgrims sharing a common journey.

And as we hiked hundreds of miles through Spain, we found joy. Or better yet we relearned what joy is.

We learn to give it without expecting anything in return and to accept it when it is given back to us.

We learned to see the good in everything and everyone. To find the divine in each other—and in our common struggle.

Perhaps that's how we grow together—when we find meaning in our shared struggle and joy.

While I am still processing the Camino and the joy I found there, here is a parable that shows what happens when we allow joy to become mundane—and what it takes to get it back.

Let’s get to it.

Share

Once upon a time, there was a monastery whose monks were pious and jubilant in their worshiping. Many people came from around the world to learn and pray at the monastery. But slowly—like many things—their joy faded. The monks no longer sang with the same ethusiasm or with the same reverence. Fewer people came to worship at the temple, and each year, even less noviatiates joined the monastic life.

This troubled the abbot. He feared the monastery would stop being a beacon of hope and learning. So the abbot prayed for guidance, asking God to help him save the monastery he loved.

That night, the abbot woke, startled by a dream. God told him that the monastery suffered from the sin of ignorance. "Among you lives the Messiah," said God, "and none of you knows. Not one of you is prepared to receive him or her."

The abbot wondered who the Messiah could be. Is it Sister Hannah, the librarian? he thought. She was always singing and humming, never saying a mean word to anyone. Or is it the cook or gardener? Though neither was a monk, both prayed as often and were just as devoted to God. Or is it Brother Fred? Or Sister Peep? But then he shook his head. Everyone has faults. No one is perfect, he said aloud. Or is that just a disguise? Who could it be?

In the morning, the abbot shared his dream with the monks and nuns as well as every worker.

“Last night, God spoke to me in a dream. He said one among us is the Messiah. But the Messiah has not revealed themselves because we have lost our way. We’ve fallen into the sin of ignorance and complacency. Our joy for life has faded along with our faith. We have forgotten that joy is not only a measurement of our happiness, but a reflection of the love we give one another. When we learn to share our joy again, the Messiah will show him—or herself.”

The monks and workers left the meeting wondering who the Messiah was. Like the abbot, they asked themselves if the Messiah was their neighbor. Or the cook? The gardener? Could it be shy Brother Abraham? Or the outspoken Sister Frieda? No one knew.

Within days, every monk, nun, and worker in the monastery took no one for granted. They sang louder and with more joy. Their songs warmed their hearts—and lifted the spirits of eveyone who heard them. God's promise came true, but in an unexpected way. The monastery found joy not because the Messiah revealed themselves, but because every person saw the Messiah in one another.

A final thought

You and I will find joy when we see the divine in each other. It begins when you give it freely, without wanting anything in return. But you won’t have to wait long to get it back.

Thanks for reading. I wish you a beautiful life.

Love to you and yours,

Michael

Share The Art of Becoming

Leave a comment