The Camino

Just got done walking out to the lighthouse..the spot at the end of the world. Certainly the Romans thought so when they named this place Finisterre...it´s lovely and full of the life energy that only the sea seems to bring to a place.

There is so much I want to say about thse past several weeks, and I´ve been thinking in my head of how to phrase all of it. And now, as I sit down to write about it I don´t know where to begin.

I think the last two weeks of walking was when things really started to gel for me as far as things coming to the surface and working themselves out in the pace of my walking. Sometimes I felt, in the distances and struggle I was putting on my body, that I was trying to wrench out of my muscles the oldest of pains, letting them sweat themselves out of my pores. I was only mildly successful.

But I think, the greatest gift this time has given me has been the knowledge that it´s not my struggles that are at my foundation. It seems that for the longest time, years and years, I´ve felt that my inner demons have been at the very core of my being. That my sadness of the way "things are" for me has kept me low, kept me from really enjoying this life that´s been handed to me.

And I´ve found that´s simply not true.

A few days ago, walking through the deep green woods of the Galician valleys, I was coming out of a place of tremendous sadness. Some of you know me in this, that place I can go. But on this morning, there were lambs and cows and magpies and crows. There was an autumn breeze and creekwaters flowing over ebony rocks. There was sunlight and dew and an earthen path to walk along. And it struck me that it´s not pain that makes up my being, but gratitude. I say this because even though I was feeling sadness, I realized that everytime I can moan about my travails, what brings me out of it consistently is thanks for the very place that I am. I´m glad I can feel these things, because it tells me that I can feel. I think those of us in recovery know that our past abuse of drugs or alcohol or food or what-have-you is directly linked to trying to blot out anything painful, anything hard, anything at all. And for me, I spent years in a daze...years.

And here I was, working on completing a life´s dream, to walk this particular path. And I was doing it sober and without much physical concern. Certainly I was sore, and I was tired...but my legs worked, my shoulders held my pack, I was breathing fine, I had no blisters. In fact, I made this entire camino without any physical injury. No blown knees or shin splints, no twisted ankles, no illness. I was luckier than many of my compatriots in this way and I am thankful for it. The journey was hard enough, I can´t imagine having to do it in the kind of physical pain some of my friends had to contend with.

So, you know...I´m not saying I´m never gonna be laid out by my sadder emotions. I don´t think we ever fully "get rid of" core issues that we come into this world with. But I think we can find ways to treat them differently for ourselves. And I feel, that for now anyway, when I am struck with some of what hurts me so, I know there´s a deeper truth there, and that´s a fine gift.

And there´s really nothing wrong with sadness. Like joy, these emotions will come and go - but it´s how we act these feelings out that can make a difference. And so, we´ll see where all this takes me in the end.

That morning was funny too because as I was thinking all of this, I came around the corner and I saw this man. He was pulling his suitcase, you know on one of those rolling wheely things. And, this particular stretch of road was so not cut out for that...it was full of big rocks, it was steep and he was really struggling with it. It kept twisting on him and tipping and I was thinking, "man, he has really made life difficult for himself there."

And I started to laugh because here was the perfect visual to how life can be for me when I hate my station in it. When I get to beating myself up with this and that. You´re alone, you´re not good-looking "enough", you suck. You know, whatever...this is it, isn´t it? Wrenching along baggage (literally!) that wasn´t designed for the road we´re on. It was great.

And I know some of you out there are wondering if I stopped to help this guy. You who are nicer than me are thinking this. And the answer is no, I didn´t. Said good morning to him though. And I´ll likely spend another couple hundred years in purgatory for that, but...it´s done now.

One of the hospitaleros (and I´ll talk about some of the ins and outs of the camino in my next post) I was talking to told me that the Camino should be walked alone because it´s a journey we should take to "fall in love with ourselves and the Spirit who guides us." I thought this was a truly lovely way to talk about the pilgrimage and have spent some time thinking about whether or not this ended up being true for me.

Hard to say. I don´t think I´ll ever fall in love with myself. I like myself better every year and get more comfortable in my own skin, but love? Some things, yes I love about myself. I love that I can write because I love doing it so much, and I look forward to continue working on it so that I can just get better and better at it. To this end I know now that I need to make my way in this world as a writer, I may live a hard scrabble existence...but it´s what I want to do.

And I definitely have a greater sense that I´m not walking in this world alone, that I do have a Higher Power that helps me along the way. I don´t always listen, and I don´t always trust...I´m truly human in that, but I think I listen better and trust more than when I left France.

There was too much along the way that showed me proof of that. The shephard in the Pyranees, some of the people I met, some of the difficulties and solutions that came out of them. Even just a couple of days ago, heading into Santiago I had the thought that it would be nice to celebrate this event with friends, and I got a little sad that I didn´t arrange to meet anyone there. I didn´t want to spend the night alone.
And as I walked through the city a woman came up to me and asked if I needed a place to stay..turns out she rents beds in her house for little money, and it was the perfect place to land. And as I was leaving her house, having dropped off my backpack and feeling a less burdened, I ran into my friend Pepe, who travelled with Carlos and Angel. We hugged joyfully and he told me that he was meeting them for dinner at 6:00 and I should come and share a celebratory meal with them.

And so I did, and it was a lovely night full of laughter and the sense of a thing accomplished together.

It was truly a beautiful journey.

And so...there it is. I´m sure I´ll write more about it in time. Next time I post I´ll talk a little bit about the specifics of it...that kind of stuff is fun for me to write. Not so gushy...and may be helpful if any of you are considering taking this pilgrimage yourself.

Alright my loves, I´m off to dinner now with this woman from Germany. She started on the same day I did and seen each other from time to time along the way. I just ran into her this morning, so we´ll get to relax a bit now and enjoy sharing stories from the road.