Once and future pilgrims

A few short months have passed since our return from the Camino, but in a sense we never left it. Each day we talk, to some degree or another, about its impact on us. We nibble around the edges of a variety of scenarios that all lead us back to Spain to that unique fulfillment that the Camino experience provides. Hospitalero training and volunteering, longer routes, shorter routes, no established routes all are in orbit as possibilities as we consider the next step in our relationship with the Camino and the community of travelers it embraces. Time and money are the two practical matters that loom ever present. Sometimes those matters are in the foreground but mostly in the background as we don't want constraints on our dreams. In our experience audacious plans have always found a pathway to fruition. Why shackle one's imagination. Life really is too short to undershoot or sell short what your heart calls you to do. Sure there will be trade offs and sacrifices but dreams can become reality and should. Caution, security, and stability all have a place in our lives, but these concerns should be tempered so as not to be allowed to limit our lives, cripple our imaginations, and strip us of hope.

Think back on any work environment and see what becomes of youth after a career of sacrifice, caution, and dreams denied. It is pretty chilling. Obviously, work careers are not always that bleak, but frequently enough, they are. Enough of that, as we each know where our particular balance point between acknowledging our responsibilities and converting hope to action lies. My point being (at last) that our peace will never be discovered on a field of trepidation. Find the courage to dream large and stop living in the future as the present is all we truly have and can count on.

So, taking our own words of advice Robin and I will be looking to return to the Camino next year. Our hope is that we can have a plan in place by next summer to walk the Arles route into Spain, via the Somport pass, and then continue down the Camino Frances to Santiago and on to Finisterre. This is a longer route (about a 1000 miles total) and a bit more rigorous as there is a fair amount of mountain walking, but courage mes amis, along with the prayers of pilgrims past will win the day. Our preference would be to start in the fall so as to arrive at Finisterre by mid December and allow time to be home at Christmas. Robin promised her choir director that she would not jump ship over Christmas again. Some constraints, as we see, are simply there.

Courage

Thoughts on a friend's wife passing

As Robin and I returned from a friend's memorial service this afternoon, for his recently departed wife, we could not help but reflect on the fleeting nature of our time in this life and the complexities of reconciling life and death. I would guess that we all have a spiritual relationship that usually hides quietly, for some, behind an artifice that screens our true feelings. This is not a revelation but simply a recognition of how guarded we are when it comes to talking about the inner journey we all experience. Organized religions compete for our pastoral care and our contributions, but when one really drills down, how different are we? My guess is that the answer is not much. To that point Robin reminded me of two transcendent Native American poems that capture eloquently that sense of universal loss, hope, and reconciliation that we all struggle to embrace as those we love depart.

A Native American Prayer


Do not stand at my grave and weep. 
I am not there. I do not sleep.


I am a thousand winds that blow, I am the softly falling snow,
I am the gentle showers of rain, I am the fields of ripening grain.
I am the morning hush. I am the graceful rush of beautiful birds in circling flight.


I am the star shine of the night, 
I am in the flowers that bloom,
I am in a quiet room,
I am in the birds that sing, I am in each lovely thing.


Do not stand at my grave and weep, I am not there,
I do not die.




A Lakota Prayer


Oh, great Spirit


Whose voice I hear in the winds, and whose breath gives life to all the world,
Hear Me ! I am small and weak, I need your strength and wisdom.


Let me walk in beauty, and make my eyes ever behold the red and purple sunset.
Make my hands respect the things you have made and my ears sharp to hear your voice.


Make me wise so that I may understand the things you have taught my people.
Let me learn the lessons you have hidden in every leaf and rock. 


I seek strength, not to be greater than my brother,
but to fight my greatest enemy, myself.


Make me always ready to come to you with clean hands and straight eyes. 
So when life fades, as the fading sunset, 
my spirit may come to you without shame.

As you reflect on these words let us be reminded that we are all travelers on this earth each sharing a piece of the universal truth of why we are here and what we are meant to do. Our charge is to find the language that allows us all to converse and share, as eloquently as we can, about how each of us effects change in the hearts of those we encounter.

Peace be with you...

Intersections

One of the remarkable things we discovered on the Camino is the way people suddenly come into your life with a purpose and a message. At first it seemed as though these encounters were just the usual passing acquaintances we experience in everyday life. But when we had a moment to reflect further they seemed almost scripted, set in place, as signposts, to lead us somewhere. We all meet people throughout our lives but the Camino seems to shine a spotlight on these encounters. Perhaps it is because there are so few distractions. In the end it is just eating, sleeping and walking. Pretty simple life, right. Let's see.

As I was warming in the flickering glow of the fireplace this morning (spring here in the Pacific northwest is still unseasonably cold and wet) thinking about this post I thought of a satellite looking down on the Camino tracking all of the many pilgrims unaware of its presence. But patterns could be discerned as tiny figures inched towards meeting places and each other. This thought of people from all corners of the earth and all walks of life moving inexorably towards some place where their lives were going to intersect and somehow be changed was striking. Robin and I met several people while we were on the Camino and we realized that from each of those encounters a message was passed and wisdom was gained. All we had to do was put our story on hold and listen. And listen we did. A Spanish pilgrim who emerged out of nowhere and disappeared again but not before passing on his message of the importance of kindness to others and sharing while on the Camino. Was this meant for us specifically? Who could know, but the message holds universal truth and deserves to be passed along even as a reminder. Thank you, mysterious pilgrim.

Another encounter was with a Japanese man living in a small Spanish village. He saw us in a bar and pursued us with kindness (sharing food and drink) and eventually pulled a chair up to our table. He had a tale to tell and it could not be contained. His story centered on a woman back in Japan who he was in love with but his need to get free from the constraints of the Japanese culture caused him to flee to rural Spain leaving a heartbroken women behind. She begged him to return, he would not answer her letters. She sent him airline tickets. He sold them to cover his bar tab. In short he erased her from his life. Now almost forty years later he is haunted with guilt for the way he treated this woman. He never reconciled with her and she eventually died. His sadness was visible and his need to get this story out was palpable. Why us and why now? We were just pilgrims sitting in a bar. Again, who knows but his message was clear. Always reconcile the many differences we experience in life. The burden, if you don't, is simply crushing. Wow.

Another memorable encounter was with a young South African man, Derick, in Ruitelan. We met walking but shared much more over a couple of glasses of beer in a bar on the flanks of O'Cebreiro. The fading afternoon light had brought a chill to the mountain air but inside this small bar our worlds warmly comingled as our messages were passed along. This was like a transfusion of energy and purpose as we worked through the why of our meeting and the impact on the way ahead. I always find these situations fascinating and intriguing. And I can't help but wonder why they happened?

A final thought. One afternoon, as we walked through occasional rain showers on the road to Muxia, we hailed a passing car and asked for directions. The driver, an elderly farmer, told us to go the "cruz " and turn left. Well in Spanish the word for cross is also the word for intersection. Perhaps this symbol, the cross, which for centuries has been a source of spirtual comfort and guidance for beleaguered pilgrims also reminds us that, whenever our lives intersect (cross) with others, we form a community of seekers looking to one another for help with our journey while sharing the hope of  finding healing, wisdom, and grace. The cross always beckons, but it's mystery is only unlocked when we choose to respond.

Buen camino

Amazing grace

 I apologize for my infrequent posting but work has set me upon the road attending a variety of meetings in various parts of this very large country. So, rather than doing what I enjoy most (writing about the Camino), I have of late found myself compressed into economy class, with my Kindle for companionship, crossing time zones surviving on cold sandwiches and little bottles of red wine. But now I'm back along with the echoes of gravel crunching under my boots, and fond memories of the freedom of spirit that so characterized our camino. The story resumes on the southern flanks of the Pyrenees with our bodies adjusting to this new line of work and our minds awash in the magnificence of this moment. But, wherein  lies the "why" in all this? Let's get to that.

We are restless beings, always on the move, seemingly never satisfied. Where are we headed? On the Camino after Zubiri is it Cizur Menor? And after that, now where? What guides us onward? What is our true destination? Does arrival in Santiago put us finally at rest. Physically, perhaps, but is that the essential purpose of this pilgrimage? Who could know? Does the restlessness disappear? Does this pilgrim road ever end? Is it meant to? Are you okay with that? Yikes, I just thought I was going for a walk albeit a bit of a long one.

I have found we are drawn Home to the Oneness, the peace/love, that was our issue at the beginning. That, to my way of thinking, is where Robin and I (and I suspect everyone else) hopefully are bound. All of our lives are pilgrim journeys, always afoot, always seeking the grace that we, at our very core, must reconnect with. All the rest is dross. Distractions from the main event. Whatever your religious beliefs are, or are not, I would offer that the times in your lives when everything just seems right have nothing to do with things or accomplishments (the sense of satisfaction is fleeting, isn't it?), but everything to do with accepting the hand of the One who guides us. Pure joy is found in these precious humble moments of insight (ah! hah!) when we discover the Way we are meant to follow. That is what led Robin and I to the Camino. It was an unscripted response to a sense that it was time to walk this particular leg of our journey Home. We felt something to be learned awaited us as we unconsciously prepared by peeling away distractions (shedding unnecessary weight), airing out our minds, and embracing contemplation and prayer. In that spiritual freedom our daily camino stages were transformed into walking meditations which I surprisingly enjoyed. It was the last thing I expected. It wasn't my plan, but it was the one I walked, and that made all the difference.

We search for the bread that once partaken forever satisfies our hunger, and the cup that once consumed forever satisfies our thirst. Is it just up ahead? Is it further down the Camino? Will it be on our way home? Not to worry, just keep walking (Ultreia!). Find and follow your Way.  Your heart will lead you on a truly peaceful journey and even if we get lost...grace will lead us Home.

Buen camino

We seekers

Day began in the pre-dawn half light, stretched out in front of the fireplace, the heat warming the stiffness from my body, watching the steam curl up from a small pot of tea, while gathering my thoughts for this blog. It is another typical Pacific Northwest early spring morning with a quilt of dove grey clouds hanging low over the valley with a few peaks to the east nestled into its soft underside. A sliver of pale light is struggling in vain to separate valley and cloud. This, for me, is the golden time when my mind, unfettered, tends to embrace all the possibilities of another new day. It seems, these days, I find myself winging back across the Atlantic and onto the Camino. I don't want to obsess on the experience but it certainly has gripped (perhaps embraced is a better word) both Robin and I in a way that we can't (or don't want to) let go of.

Why did we go? To some it might seem reckless to run off to a foreign country and set out to walk across a good portion of it. What about this, and what about that? Have you ever done anything like this before came the questions from well meaning friends. Of course, we had no experiences to match up with what we proposed to do, but we also had a sense that all would be well (hubris or faith?). Is this the way others set out? Who could know, but in one sense it didn't matter for once we were there it became obvious that we would simply walk our own camino. After all, there is no standard to follow. Just follow the markers and your heart. We all have a point of departure and a point of arrival in mind when we travel. It frames the journey and provides context for the time and effort spent to get to our destination. Plus, as part of our human legacy, we are more comfortable with known limits. Our journey started out in a somewhat similar fashion. Get to the point of departure, join the camino, set a goal for each day and walk that plan until you arrive in Santiago. Seemed easy enough. Oh, also be open minded enough to realize that all plans are subject to change (hmmm...). We got it (we thought), and were ready to go.

After one night in St. Jean we started up the valley route to Roncesvalles. That first day was exhilarating as we engaged the pitch of the pass adjusting our steps to the cadence of our upbeat mood. Everything just felt right for both Robin and I. We were finally walking the Camino. We were still bone tired from the trip to St. Jean, but with perfect weather for our ascent our fatigue slipped away, and as we climbed we realized a joy unlike any other we could remember.  A call had been answered and we were on the Camino and underway at last. But, what about the "why" of the journey? I haven't forgotten.

Expectations

We have been home now for about a month and a half and I finally feel ready to start posting some reflections on our Camino. We have put up all the information about gear and accommodations (the outer journey) but the story of the inner journey is much on my mind these days and looking for a way out. Let's see where this takes us. Welcome aboard.

 When Robin and I set out on the Camino we were reasonably fit, felt we had the right gear and a pack weight we could carry to Santiago. Those were the basics. Beyond that there was, let's call it, a feeling that something else was looming in our future. We simply knew that this would be more than a long, interesting walk. Of course, we had read a great deal about the Camino including many personal accounts of how pilgrims were impacted by the journey. For some it was a unfortunate litany of physical ailments (tendonitis, blisters, muscle aches, illness, etc), for others it was a grand adventure, a physical accomplishment, and then there were the more compelling tales (for me) of providence found along the Way. In truth, I thought our trip might be a sampling of all the above. It just seemed logical that there would be some challenges (daily distances to cover, aching or damaged body parts, steepness of grade, cold/wet weather), and it was certainly going to an adventure. The providence part well, who could say for sure what that might be. Our minds were open, we were excited, but we harbored a certain wariness of the unknown as well. What we did not appreciate until much later was the why of this journey. In truth we did look forward to being able to say, "We did it." What we did not foresee is what it did to us.

Winter Camino Slide Show

J took more than 2,000 photos from our Camino and these are some of my favorites. I am not very keen on taking pictures when we travel but I am so glad he is! If you've walked the Camino I hope this will take you back to those wonderful moments. I believe there are seasons for everything and perhaps, and only if you desire, let this be an invitation for you to seek your own Camino. Wherever you are, enjoy the journey. Buen Camino!

p.s.) Unfortunately, this video is currently blocked in Germany due to a copyright law that I am not familiar with. I have joined 4 tracks of songs into one track in order to upload .mov file slide show (which is generated from my iPhoto) onto the Youtube without loosing the audio. YouTube only picks up the first audio track of .mov file and the rest of the video is mute.

You may view this video directly from YouTube for a slightly larger viewing size. Google "Caminoat6450" and there you should find all three videos in this blog.