The Pilgrimage by Paulo Coelho Page A

appeared to be a series of
     mountains in front of me. Think of something cruel that you did to yourself
    today, and perform the exercise. I couldnt think of anything. Thats the way it always is.
     We are only able to be
    kind to ourselves at the few times when we need severity. Suddenly I remembered that I had
     called myself an idiot for having laboriously climbed the Peak of Forgiveness while the
     tourists had driven up in their cars. I knew that this was unfair and that I had been
     cruel to myself; the tourists, after all, were only looking for a place to sunbathe, while
     I was looking for my sword. I wasnt an idiot, even if I had felt like one. I dug the nail
     of my index finger forcefully into the cuticle of my thumb. I felt intense pain, and as I
     concentrated on
    it, the feeling of having been an idiot dissipated. I described this to Petrus, and he
     laughed without
    saying anything. That night, we stayed in a comfortable hotel in the
    village where the church I had focused on was located. After dinner, we decided to take a
     walk through the streets, as an aid to digestion.

The Pilgrimage
    The Cruelty Exercise
    Every time a thought comes to mind that makes you feel bad about yourself jealousy, self
     pity, envy, hatred, and so on do the following:
    Dig the nail of your index finger into the cuticle of the thumb of the same hand until it
     becomes quite painful. Concentrate on the pain: it is a physical reflection of the
     suffering you are going through spiritually. Ease the pressure only when the cruel thought
     has gone.
    Repeat this as many times as necessary until the thought has left you, even if this means
     digging your fingernail into your thumb over and over. Each time, it will take longer for
     the cruel thought to return, and eventually it will disappear altogether, so long as you
     do not fail to perform the exercise every time it comes to mind.
    Of all the ways we have found to hurt ourselves, the worst has been through love. We are
     always suffering because of someone who doesnt love us, or someone who has left us, or
     someone who wont leave us. If we are alone, it is because no one wants us; if we are mar-
     ried, we transform the marriage to slavery. What a terri- ble thing! he said angrily.
    We came to a square, and there was the church I had seen. It was small and lacked any
     architectural distinc- tion. Its bell tower reached up toward the sky. I tried to see the
     angel again, but couldnt.
    When the Son of God descended to earth, he brought love to us. But since people identified
     love only with suffering and sacrifice, they felt they had to crucify Jesus. Had they not
     done so, no one would have believed in the love that Jesus brought, since people were so
     used to suffering every day with their own prob- lems.
    We sat on the curb and stared at the church. Once again, it was Petrus who broke the
     silence.
    Do you know what Barrabas means, Paulo? Bar means son, and abba means father.
    He gazed at the cross on the bell tower. His eyes shone, and I sensed that he was moved by
     something perhaps by the love he had spoken so much about, but I couldnt be certain.
    The intentions of the divine glory were so wise! he said, his voice echoing in the empty
     square. When Pontius Pilate made the people choose, he actually gave
    them no choice at all. He presented them with one man who had been whipped and was falling
     apart, and he presented them with another man who held his head high Barrabas, the
     revolutionary. God knew that the people would put the weaker one to death so that he could
     prove his love.
    He concluded, And regardless of which choice they made, it was the Son of God who was
     going to be cruci- fied.

The Pilgrimage
    The Messenger
    And here all Roads to Santiago become one. It was early in the morning when we reached
     Puente de la Reina, where the name of the village was etched into the base of a statue of
     a pilgrim in medieval garb: