My Soul Quest in Montreal

Have you ever been called to journey to a place of transformation?

A few weeks ago, I had no intention of making this trip to Montreal a spiritual journey. I simply needed to help my daughter move from her student residence to an apartment. But as I pondered the timing of it all—my overstuffed to-do list, a petrified foster puppy, and a sense of resistance—I began to see it differently. Perhaps this was more than just a logistical task; perhaps this was a call for a soul quest I had not yet recognized. I decided to surrender to the journey, knowing that something bigger was awaiting me.

A pilgrimage is often described as a journey to a sacred place that can catalyze personal transformation.

I chose to see Montreal as my sacred destination for this journey of transformation. After all, Montreal is located on the traditional and unceded territory of the Kanien’keha:ka (Mohawk), at a place called Tio’tia:ke, a meeting place for many First Nations, including the Haudenosaunee (Six Nation Confederacy), Anishinabeg, and Algonquin peoples. The area had to be rich with history and sacredness.

It also helped that I have an MA in History, so I am always curious to learn about places with historical significance.

Sacred Sites

It is commonly known that churches are often built on ley lines, sacred sites, and places of spiritual power and importance. My plan was to visit one church a day with the intention of connecting deeply with myself and gaining clarity on my next steps. A recent business acquisition I had been working on for the last nine months had fallen through at the last minute, and I wasn’t sure what my soul wanted anymore. I hoped that connecting with the sacredness of these spaces would inspire and inform my energy.

The challenge with a pilgrimage is that you don’t know where you are going or how things will unfold—you just need to be open for Spirit to move through you. By following your intuition and gut feelings, your task is to stay receptive to possibilities, and to be okay with nothing happening at all.

Although raised Catholic by tradition in Europe, I am not a religious person. But I absolutely love visiting churches. Wherever I go, I light a candle and make wishes for people. It’s a simple act that deeply nourishes my soul and initiates something in my energy fields.

Thankfully, my daughter was a good sport and totally obliged me this time. I think she was delighted to do something other than study for her finals.

The Initiation

I believe every sacred journey begins with an initiation or a challenge that tests our faith.

In this case, much like my previous pilgrimage to the South of France, getting to Montreal proved to be a little chaotic. My first plane was severely delayed. Luckily for me, the connecting flight was also delayed, and I was able to reach my destination easily after that. I remember choosing to be really zen about it—if I made it, great; if not, I would be okay with that too. It was a beautiful lesson in trust.

The Soul Quest

My only plan was to walk around and see where my energy was drawn to.

Our first stop was Christ Church Cathedral, an Anglican Gothic Revival cathedral built in 1859, where we were immediately struck by a powerful message of inclusivity, welcoming people of all cultural backgrounds, ages, life experiences, sexual orientations, and an equal ministry for all genders.

We walked in about five minutes before closing, but the sexton graciously allowed us to light our candles and write prayers on a wish tree. The church was simple but deeply hospitable—truly a balm for my soul, which has always struggled with the sense of belonging.

Our next visit was to Mary, Queen of the World Cathedral (Basilique-Cathedrale Marie-Reine-du-Monde), which serves as the seat of the Roman Catholic Archdiocese of Montreal. Built between 1870 and 1894 as a smaller replica of St. Peter’s Basilica in Rome, it was rather grandiose and extremely solemn. It lacked the intimacy and warmth that is the trademark of Spirit when it moves through me, triggering soul-tingles down my body. This Divine is not cold and distant as I had once been taught; it is a benevolent force everywhere and in everything. This was the sign to release some of the deep-rooted Catholic beliefs I had grown up with.

Our third experience was with The Presbyterian Church of St. Andrew and St. Paul, directly across from the Montreal Museum of Fine Arts. We were warmly welcomed by a man who delighted in sharing information about the history of the building and its Scottish benefactors, who privileged the education of the less fortunate. The church boasted Montreal’s largest organ and spectacular stained glass panels. We were particularly struck by "The Nativity in a Symbolic Canadian Setting," created by English artist Lawrence Lee, which included an intuit and a sage. The message of inclusion and supporting the less fortunate was deeply felt. Shouldn’t that be the foundation of any spiritual life?

The next day, we tried to visit the Notre-Dame Basilica of Montreal, a minor basilica of the Catholic Church. The previous time we had tried, tickets had been sold out. This time, the basilica was closed. We took it as a sign to move on.

We casually explored Old Montreal, venturing out closer to the St. Laurent River, when we stumbled upon the beautiful Notre-Dame-de-Bon-Secours Chapel. The chapel’s light grey marble walls gave it a bright, welcoming, and distinctly feminine vibe. We lit the largest candles available and both felt compelled to pray for all the men in our lives.

What truly inspired us here was the life of St. Marguerite Bourgeoys, the first teacher in the colony of Ville-Marie and founder of the Congregation of Notre-Dame. She was later canonized as the first Canadian saint. She founded one of the first non-cloistered religious communities in the Catholic Church, educating young girls, the poor, and children of First Nations. She seemed ahead of her time in advocating for the independence and emancipation of women. Her story reminded me of the pivotal role that feminine (Yin) energies play in balancing and nourishing our world.

After that final church visit, "real life" took over, and the rest of our time was spent on packing and moving—an experience that grounded me back into the present moment.

Unsurprisingly, I didn’t have any big “aha” moments during my time in Montreal. Inner transformation is a subtle, unconscious process. I journaled daily, guided by questions, thoughts, and insights: what is my truth? Who am I? What can I contribute to the world? How can I make a difference?

A pilgrimage is an opportunity to let life and Spirit happen through you, to follow your nudges, and to have the space and time to listen away from modern world distractions. It’s the chance to walk and just be spontaneous, without a goal or agenda, other than the intention you set at the beginning. It felt wonderful to make decisions in the moment, knowing that the outcomes didn’t matter. It was a testament to the power of surrendering to the energy of a place to do the work of transformation.

It was liberating to reconnect with myself outside of all my different roles—carefree, playful, and childlike in my interactions with life itself. This, too, is a way of communing with the Divine.

I flew home tired but complete. Something within me had shifted, and I returned with a new sense of self. In that sense, people talk about a pilgrimage as a spiritual renewal and rebirth. What is certain is that it offers an opportunity for introspection, self-discovery, and healing—whether you are looking for inner peace, answers, or growth.

What sacred journey is calling you, and how might it transform the path ahead?