Had things gone as planned, I would have been home for a few days, November 6th. But, things didn’t go as planned and I’m not good at that. No one likes it when they don’t get their way, but my default setting points strongly toward an assumption that I will, so acceptance is difficult. I’m also a big believer in the practice of gratefulness, so let’s start there.
Gratitudes
My travel/hiking buddy and his sense of direction
My journal and recorded details
The weather–could not have been more perfect
The people we met along the way
No blisters
My backpack (Osprey Sirrus 34)
Packing cubes and the organization they provided
The clothing I took–It’s folded neatly in a drawer, ready to go again
Stick Left and Stick Right–the hiking poles I wasn’t sure I needed
Pharmacies in Spain
The miles we walked
Sunrise hiking and all the feels
The opportunity, time, resources to make this walk
Conversations and camaraderie amongst pilgrims
Snack breaks
Time to be present
Shared Pilgrim dinners
Unique lodgings
The experience of bunk rooms and that I don’t have to do that again
Amazing train system in France and Spain
A safe trip home
Injury was only a stress fracture
New-found empathy for people on crutches, walkers and in wheelchairs
The Things I Missed
My electric toothbrush
Homemade plant-based meals
Having a kitchen and private bathroom handy at all times
Paper goods–paper towels, soft toilet paper, tissues
The Biggest Thing I Did Not Miss
American politics
Daily news
I do realize a one-month break from news and politics was a luxury. I cannot indefinitely depend upon others to keep watch on Washington for me. I have responsibility.
What I Would Do Differently
Train smarter
Pack a bank debit card
Ignore prescribed stages (miles per day)
Resist calculating the miles to go divided by the days remaining
Cut the comparison–Let them/Let me
Eat more protein
Purchase a one-way plane ticket
Relax more
Listen to the whispers from my body, eliminating her need to yell
Oh, The People We Met
Most of the people we met on The Camino were friendly, goodnatured, kind, interesting and interested. They were seekers and adventurers who have traveled extensively and expressed a unique open-mindedness that I found refreshing.
Folks were from everywhere. Practically every European country was accounted for, as well as Australia, New Zealand, Canada, and South Korea, to name a few. Most Americans, by far, were from California. We met a few midwesterners, one couple from Arizona, and one lone young man from Bloomington, Indiana.
There was the neo natal nurse from Australia who was walking alone dealing with the trauma of working with sick and, too often, dying infants. She told her story while my hiking buddy affirmed her feelings accounting similar situations he’d heard in his years as a therapist.
Also representing Australia were two old buddies who were always good for comic relief.
There was a group of three, about our own kids’ ages. They passed us almost every day; we started earlier, but they were faster. There was always a quick exchange. I’d say,”there goes the fast kids.” They would smile and say “Buen Camino,” as they blew past. They’d be on their second beer when we rolled into town at the end of the day in search of sparkling water.
One day, we came upon a particularly precarious rocky patch where one of the Fast Kids stood waiting to ensure we took the alternate, less dicey work around. I got a little teary as he scampered off.
The personality trait I was most drawn to was the Free Spirit. Many of the late-twenty-early-thirty-somethings had either quit their jobs to wander until the next opportunity presented itself or were on extended holiday. Extended for like three months or, shrug shoulders, “whenever.”
The way these souls pull at mine makes me think I was destined to be one. That is if I’d been born at a different time in a different location to different parents. It’s in there. I feel it. But somehow, I lost my way.
This Breath of Fresh Air with long, dark, untamed hair, lots of piercings and tattoos sidled up next to me on the trail; I’ll call her Bofa. Her clothes were more bohemian than REI and she wore self confidence like an accessory. She said hi like she knew I’d be glad to see her, and I was.
Bofa was from Oxford, England, graduated from college and worked a big girl job until she didn’t want to anymore. She had been successful enough, but it wasn’t fulfilling her, so with her parents’ blessing, she took off. She had lived in multiple countries. Managed bars and restaurants. Was trained as a sommelier. Her longest lasting job had been for a year.
“When the job becomes stressful,” she said, “I move on.”
She’d left behind friends and lovers with whom she seemed to remain connected by the love and shared experience, rather than any sense of commitment.
As most mid-hike conversations go, I asked her what made her want to hike the Camino. “I was visiting this guy in Asia and he was getting ready to leave for the Camino,” she said, “so I came with him. He’s gone back home, but I decided to stay. I think I might finish.”
She wanted to know all about us and asked to record our mantra. We connected, and then off she went.
Over the next days, we chanced upon her at second breakfast, dinner, in church, surrounded by new friends, or alone, but always with an enthusiastic hug.
There was the day she walked with us, chatting, until we came upon her new hippie friends sitting on a picnic table. They called out for her to come meditate with them. She invited us to join.
We declined. I mean, we had to keep moving, right?
Woe is me. In the spirit of adventure.
Our Mantra
“In the Spirit of surrender and adventure, without expectations or control, I ignite the miracles of the Universe in me.”
I’ve been writing and reciting this for years. But now, I’m mad at my mantra. Refusing to repeat it. It didn’t come through for me. It let me down. Maybe it no longer works.
Or maybe I wasn’t true to it?
As I read back through my journal, I noticed repeated phrases.
Re. Expectations:
Just as I had pictured
I did not expect . . .
I wasn’t expecting . . .
Yeah. I had expectations, of course I did, and maybe it’s dumb to ask oneself not to have any.
I really never truly liked the word surrender. I think I put that in there as a goal.
Regarding control, if I don’t, who will? Maybe it’s time to move on from my mantra. Start fresh.
But I like the miracles part, and we experienced many. Much fodder for future posts.
I guess I need more time with this. Do I love it or leave it? Do I really even mean it? Time will tell.
Final Thoughts
I must make space for this recurring thought that followed me on my pathway: Americans do not have enough vacation time. We seem to be the only country with fewer than 6 weeks paid vacation. We are the outlier in encouraging our workforce to spend quality time traveling and developing interests beyond our vocation. I believe this to be one of our major problems.
Much voice is given to making one’s Camino his/her own. Make it what you want, need, like, etc., is the standard line, but my take on the nightly conversations, didn’t always jive with that sentiment. And what happens in the Facebook forums, don’t even get me started.
These questions, and I must say I’m open to this being projection on my part, sometimes felt judgy. How far did you walk today? How long did it take you? Where did you come from? What time did you leave this morning? Where did you stay last night? How much does your pack weigh? Did you carry your full pack? Are you going all the way to Santiago? How many nights ahead are you reserved?
Implications were that the only true pilgrims were the ones who kept up with, or were ahead of, the stages, always carried their full pack, showed up in town without a reservation, asking for a bed, slept in rooms with 50+ bunks, and with every step, allowed the Camino to provide.
And then there were the laid back, sit and talk for an hour at second breakfast group, who stopped again for late lunch or a beer. These folks were in no hurry because they had a reservation and couldn’t check in until 2:00.
And there was a sampling of the, we have a spreadsheet of overnight reservations for the next month crew who could always pronounce the names of the next town and knew the kilometers and elevation gain.
Our sweet spot was somewhere in the middle.
Mostly, I think we did walk our Camino. But because I’m me, I did struggle at times, to not fall into the energy of other people. Truly, it was not that often. And I believe knowing what to expect (there’s that word again) and having developed a good system with my travel buddy, I think I’ll do even better next time.
Just so you know, I erased my whiteboard today.
I am so looking forward to returning next Fall, picking up where we left off and going . . . well, as far as we go.
Your insites and self awareness leave me inspired to want the same for myself. Thank you for sharing, Debi. 💖