Camino 2016 06/08 - the Silence between the Notes

It was a short walk. I had breakfast with Dominique and Patric, walked the 17 km over here to Sahagún (passing the halfway point for the Camino Frances and the place I started in 2014), found a new labyrinth on a spot I had lunch 18 months ago and enjoyed a sunrise walk, and got into the monastery I enjoyed so much last time I was in this town.

An eerie silence filled the fields, as the harvesting activities I saw here last time were replaced with quiet growing. Even the tombstone of the New Englander Methodist minister seemed quietly stoic today.

My feet felt great during the walk though my left foot by the end of the day persists in blistering. I walked around town and figured out that in conjunction with a festival this weekend, there will be a bull run through town on Friday!

I attended a singing church service offered by the nuns of this monastery, followed by a blessing. Then I had dinner with Jote (from yesterday) and Teo. He just returned to finish the Camino. He walked from the Netherlands 2400 km to get here, went home to run a marathon and do some family functions, then returned to finish. 

I spent much of the time alone: resting, roaming, and people watching. And listening to lots of storks and church bells. The walk was silent, the day was silent. Silence dominated.

And it made me think of a blog post I wrote a few months ago: http://www.letallwhoarethirstycome.com/2016/03/the-silence-between-notes-lenten.html

I was grieving at that point and I'm not grieving now. Yet I'm here, in my Benedictine cell, and I feel peaceful silence protecting me, as it did all morning on the Camino.

Between the high notes and low notes comes the silence. And it's the silence in between the notes that, as was stated in that blog post, we get music. Today has been the needed glue to make all this background sound - slowly, magically, patiently - transform into music.

May the music of silence fill your head and  heart, and bring you peace, beauty, and rest.

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Camino 2016 06/07 - I am

The concept of identity filled my mind today. Who are we in our daily lives? Who are we when we are on Camino? Are they the same? Do we act differently? Do we expect others to stay the same or act differently based on what we do?

And is this identity isolated for 800 km (or more or less depending on your pilgrimage) or does it extend beyond your current physical location? Are we the beauty in our boots that walk or in the boots that take root in just one place?

I walked out of Carrión de Los Condes thinking about the lovely mass and blessing at church last night. It mattered not who we were. We pilgrims were given a blessing. While walking I caught up with  Jote of Holland. She walked slower but we had delightful stops to rest and chat. 

She is an independent marketer and decided to quit her last job. Before starting a new one, she finally decided it's time to walk. We laughed over snoring folks and empty fields. She fed a hungry dog. We will likely not cross paths again given the shorter distances she is doing but we connected. She hoped that my reunion with Stephen would be joyful. She didn't come across like a marketing person but that might be part of her Camino.

I ran into Silvia again and we walked for an hour. She was picnicking with other Italians and shrieked when she saw me. She wanted to update me on her Camino. She met Annamaria who I told her about and slept on the altar of a monastery with her and another guy when the monastery ran out of room. I swooned at the thought of these two angels meeting each other.

Silvia told me that she took a rest day in Carrión de Los Condes because she had a break down. She was walking so much that she realized that she wasn't diving deep into Camino as she had hoped. Her flight home was distorting her Camino. So instead of trying to walk the whole Camino, she'll walk what feels right and let the Camino work on her.

I'm so happy that she realized this. We cannot force the Camino to be what we want. The Camino is a metaphor for our journey to God. We cannot force that journey. We must accept the pilgrimage on God's terms as it's written in our hearts.

I found my albergue and separated. I said Ciao Bella and she was happy that I knew two words in Italian that didn't have to do with food. I said, "I will see you on the Camino tomorrow and every day we seek each other."

My left foot has been in great pain the last few days. I've popped that blister so often, it looks like I'm shooting up in a poorly chosen location. I immediately made a mess of my room as I searched for the Advil.

I ran into Mike again. He was sitting by the grape vines of the albergue. Not only has he eaten at El Patron in Altadena but his niece lives right by the Ralphs store I visit. And on Facebook, she seems to have 7 mutual friends with me. Small world! 

And at dinner I sat with Dominique and Patric. We met walking into Pamplona and they've walked from central France. It was a joy to dive deeper into our talk during dinner. They decided to do this once they retired and the kids left the nest (see the Empty Nest blog post). We will likely overlap considerably on the Camino for at least a week, so it was fun to learn more about their faith and their inspiration to walk. 

And during dinner, Lucy from Brazil waved as she walked to another table.

Which leads to the identity discussion. I connected with one new and the rest were prior Camino walk chats. During my rest, I thought "Have I been honest? Do I share truth with them? Or do I present myself in an inauthentic way?" What am I saying or doing when I say "I am _____"?

I've tried to be authentic. It's easy on Camino to be brutally honest. You may never see these people again and you don't have to "save face" with someone you'll see at church or the country club. I talk about Stephen and my journey of faith. It's all out there.

And you can also create a completely new facade, one where you can portray yourself in a certain fashion. Like Jan Brady trying to create a personae, or someone on vacation at a resort trying to impress others, you can say what you want.

And I know which way feels right for me. Camino can be liberating if we let it. What's more liberating than freeing yourself of your false self?

Our identities aren't pinned to us anyway. They precede us and follow after us. As an example, almost every person I've chatted has met Daniel and have been inspired not just by his challenging Camino, but also his astonishing soul, full of beauty, eyes brilliant with a light of love. We've passed him, and now his identity precedes him. And of course, after he visits a place, his identity remains behind.

I am no angel. I'm no saint. I seek God and want to live out the commandment to love each other as God loves us. I fail every day many times, but rather than feeling defeated, it's a reminder to just keep trying. It's an exercise, a workout, of the soul and heart.

And as my identity ripples through the Camino, with my wake colliding with those of others on their journey, the original wave of energy will mix and blend. I want that energy to be the authentic me, the one that was created in God's image, so that God's energy is what passes through this space, this time.

In that ripple of energy, in that vast wave of love, we can find reconciliation without limits to physical location and time. And true healing, true unity can spread across the shores.

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Camino 2016 06/06 - Side by Side

I lost my wallet. Something told me to look for it before I left at 6am (trying to beat the rain) and it wasn't where it was supposed to be. So I walked back to the cafe where last I used it for dinner and didn't find it. I came back to my room and waited for the hotel owner to start the day at 7:30am. She told me to ring the doorbell of the restaurant because the owners lived upstairs.

I got my wallet back with my credit card but no cash. Who knows who took it as I left it on the outdoor cafe table. I'm content to have my credit card however. The hotel owner was so happy for me. I'm glad she was at my side to help me out.

Later I chatted and had a late breakfast with Marilo of Melbourne Australia (her parents are Spaniards) and Gilan of Quebec. We encountered some drizzle but not the forecast rains. We walked side by side on the optional rural trail for almost 2.5 hours, with a few spots that narrowed where we would walk single file.

I proceeded from Villalcázar alone along the wide senda (path beside the highway dedicated to pilgrims) but to one side, with room on the other side for people to pass. By the time I got to Carrión de Los Condes, my feet seemed fine and I got a lovely casita. I lunched in my room on canned sardines and bread, then sat at the river, napping some, dipping my feet into the frigid water. Grabbed some groceries for tomorrow's lunch, missed most of the rosary at church, but got to the mass and ran into Uli there.

The blessing of peregrinos afterwards was lovely. The priest gave us all a blessing regardless of our faith. Then he and a sister from the adjoining Augustinian monastery did a laying on of hands and personal blessing. We got a gift of a paper star to take home, made by the sisters and representing the hope of Christ even in the darkest night.

My burger dinner had a fried egg and bacon on top. That's a blessing too.

As I write this, a blister returned as it did last night, on the left foot. I'm resting and thinking about the interconnectedness of people. I keep running into a group of French older ladies who are walking the Camino. Also, everywhere I turn are the Texas A&M students. And at all the churches, I meet the same pilgrims.

We don't really know each other, and yet we do. We aren't walking together, and yet we are. We leave and arrive at different times, perhaps taking different optional routes, but we all want to go to the same place. We suffer the same rains, and revel in the same beautiful skies. We are distinct. We are one.

Whether we walk ahead or are running behind, walk alone or as a class, walk in silence or in constant dialogue, walk single file or side by side, we are heading towards our destiny. And we make room for those who might need to pass, or who we ourselves pass, or walk beside. We make room in our hearts as well, so that our many thoughts and feelings can lurch ahead or slowly meander through our lives.

I walked alone for the last 90 minutes, but there was room beside me. And that space wasn't empty. We walked side by side. Me. You. Those on our prayer lists. Those whom we love. And the One who created us. We walk side by side, and because of that I feel safe and loved.

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Camino 2016 06/05 - Changing Landscape

So now we are clearly on the Meseta. Wide open plains, small villages, the tune "Oklahoma" rattling inside the noggin. It's a rapid transition that sometimes catches people off guard.

Other transitions happened to me , I realized, without noticing right away. In addition to swinging over to the flattish plains, I'm not shedding and adding to my journey. This applies both to the physical and to the emotional pilgrimage.

Physically, I'm now content with the weight of my backpack. Invariably, almost every pilgrim packs too much and begins leaving items behind. I didn't overpack initially but I did decide to leave things that I had gotten while in Paris and Lourdes. 

I in fact overpacked on something I was quite intentional about: I brought too much Lourdes water. I didn't realize that the soda water bottle that I had purchased in Paris was 2 liters in capacity. I filled it up in Lourdes which meant that I was carrying 4.5 pounds of water that I wasn't even drinking. That's on top of a desired maximum 20 pound back pack!

Now, unless I intended to force feed this healing water into every peregrino I met, it was simply not likely that I could share that much Lourdes water. So, on the day I was desperately thirsty (05/21), I drank some of the water to both reduce my pack weight but also receive the healing and hope for a less painful journey.

And on the night after the traumatic walk over the Pyrenees, I drank more of the water. And when the blisters arrived the next night I drank more. I'm now down to just a pint which, as I've mentioned, I've been sharing.

The symbolism didn't strike me at that point but now that I'm in transition on the walk, it's starting to become apparent. The beginning of any pilgrimage involves ejecting unnecessary items so as to be ready for the next phase, making room in the heart for the newly illuminated. (The last phase is union, integration, divine oneness).

I ejected the very item I wanted to share.

What does that mean to me? Now that I'm moving into my second phase of pilgrimage, things are starting to make sense.

I'm starting to think that even with our best intentions, those best intentions too can weigh us down, be a burden, strangle us. Those healing waters were adding to my ever growing misery. I had to get rid of that water, to save myself for more. A broken pilgrim won't have as many opportunities with an abruptly shortened pilgrimage.

Moreover, I drank those very waters of healing. I drank it so that I too could be healed. We aren't rock stars on the Camino. Every day I met people who struggled. Even those who had fewer issues still had issues. We all have problems and can benefit from recognizing them. Of healing ourselves. The pope tweeted just this morning that even the saints were not superhuman. They just loved God fully.

So as I reflect today, the events of the last weeks - obfuscated by the realities of pain and physical duress - are starting to make sense. 

Emotionally, I'm transitioning as well. I noticed that I've walked half of my 920km. That blew my mind. I feel like I just started. Paradoxically I feel like I've been away for such a long time. I miss my husband Stephen terribly. I'll see him in 5 days in León and we walk the final 322km together. I imagine that I'll be both  at peace with his arrival and also challenged, as he's not accompanied me on pilgrimage before. I can barely wait.

The day started with a gorgeous hike up a steep hill out of Castrojeriz. The climb was comparable to Echo Mountain back home though at half the height. It's also equivalent to the castle walk I did yesterday. Of course, I didn't have a backpack. I get to the top and run into Therese of Saint Louis.  We had some laughs resting and I sallied on.

I walked past three villages before getting to Fromista. I enjoyed time at church, rested, feasted, tended to my feet, marveled at a church built in 1066 here in the middle of nowhere.

And I'm wondering what else might start making more sense as I continue on.

Thank you, thank you for joining me this far on this pilgrimage. As I reflect on this changing landscape, I'm down on the ground humbled by your willingness to walk with me. Forgive me for not thanking you enough, as your prayers have given me strength. And together, we can pray for and help those who need our mindfulness and our willingness to journey. 

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