Camino 2017-9-28 I'm Happy Just to Dance with You

Walking is a privilege. A gift. That reality hit home last year when I walked with Daniel along Camino Frances. It struck me when I met someone who, on full recovery after months in a coma, immediately bought tickets to Saint Jean Pied de Port to begin his first Camino.

And it happened yesterday.

I briefly walked for at most an hour with Miss J from South Africa. She seemed like a regular person whose traveling companion decided not to walk the next few segments and stayed in Porto. It was Miss J's first visit to Portugal and she was smitten.

Then a curious comment indicated that she had written about her time in paralysis. Just a couple years ago she couldn't move. She wrote about it in a dark but heart-felt comedy "Memoir of a Lunatic: the Lighter Side of Paralysis". You can download or buy it on Amazon.

The turn in coversation made this 30km segment between Vila do Condo and Barcelos downright fascinating. She was just overjoyed at everything. The smell of the farm animals, the rocks, the dirt. The heat was much but she was grateful to be able to do this.

After we parted, as she was ending before Barcelos, I kept thinking about gratitude. Why do we most feel grateful when we've fallen? Why can't we feel gratitude all the time?

I forget at times how lucky I am. It takes misfortune to remind me most deeply that I am being given a new chance, repeatedly. The fact that I am alive is actually a source of joy, as many things in my life could easily have shortened it years ago.

So I walked wondering if I could be more thankful. The Beatles song "I'm happy Just to Dance with You" filled me ears as I thought of this. I might be as thankful as any other person but I feel I could be a happier person if I always fall back on an attitude of gratitude.

So I end today with a short hymn that, especially now that I'm less than 100 miles from Santiago de Compostela, I'll carry in my heart to Ponte de Lima. 

Santo, santo, santo

Mi corazón te adora

Mi corazón sabe decir

Santo eres Senor

Camino 2017-9-27 Ebbing and Flowing

The full moon will come in a week, on the day I come into Santiago de Compostela. I thought of that every time I peered at tide pools yesterday.

The walk from Porto to Vila do Conde was beside the Rio Douro (literally the River of Gold, as it carried the treasures from Portuguese colonies) and the Atlantic Ocean. So there were lots of stunning beach and ocean views, with sun and surfers, vacationers and retirees every way the head turned. 

There were also tide pools. And you could see little critters wandering here and there, reacting to the waters around them. They weren't anchored, as the crashing tide could crush them. Instead they floated here and there, peeked out when safe and returning home when not.

As I took a photo of a statue of an angel, pilgrim Janet of Laguna Hills, California introduced herself. We ended up walking about 12 of the 20 miles together. She's delightfully smart, empathetic, and deeply caring for her family. We talked non-stop, which was easy since we are both ENFP on the Meyers Brigg.

During our time, which included lunch at a cafe and dinner after we arrived, she also talked about her discomfort of being on Camino this time. Unlike her past two Caminos, something didn't feel right. And at the 15 mile mark, she decided the sun got the best of her and she'd find a cab.

We did meet for dinner and gabbed for hours. She will be returning home on Friday and cut her trip short. I was disappointed that I couldn't walk with her more, but at least we don't live too far apart

I thought about her decision, during my couple hours walking alone and after dinner.  She's a psychotherapist so is more attuned to probing self than I am. She's doing what's right for her. 

The Camino is a microcosm of life, a pilgrimage into the heart. Sometimes life gets in the way, such as an injury, and you go home. Other times, the Camino itself gets in the way, and staying can be the injury. It takes courage to accept that and go home.

I've wondered about that in myself. Do I know when to pack it up and get away from the rough tides and go to safety? In my first partnership of 18 years, it took a decade to figure that out. Maybe not just figure but also to admit it. Then it took another few years to accept it.

Sometimes I feel like some crayfish. My journey is dependent on the seas around me. I know how to venture out and I know when to retreat. But sometimes, we don't do as well as the crayfish, and we are paralyzed and don't retreat. We don't treat ourselves right.

That's not healthy. The self care has yielded to things like pride, ego, or gluttony. Sometimes we HAVE had our fill. I think Janet is wise to understand herself well and isn't put in the waves for someone other than herself.

My prayer today is the one attributed to Saint Francis. May the ebb and flows of our lives be filled with compassion and empathy not just for others, but for ourselves.

Lord, make me an instrument of Your peace;

Where there is hatred, let me sow love;

Where there is injury, pardon;

Where there is discord, harmony;

Where there is error, truth;

Where there is doubt, faith;

Where there is despair, hope;

Where there is darkness, light;

Where tyhere is sadness, joy.

Grant that we may not so much seek

To be consoled as to console;

To be understood as to understand;

To be loved as to love.

For it is in giving that we receive;

It is in pardoning that we are pardoned;

And it is in dying that we are brought back to eternal life.