How do I explain it to make those I love understand?
When I walked my first Camino, last year, I chose not to take photos or keep a journal of my journey. Certain aspects and experiences will always remain very private, shared only with a very few. I learned a lot on that walk… about me, the world and my place in it and who and what I want to be, in the life after that Camino. And, while there were so many days that were filled with the experiences that made that journey such a wonderful, life-altering event, when I DO talk with loved ones about my journey, there is one day that always rises above all the others.
It was well into the journey… because I didn’t keep a journal, I don’t know the exact date or even the exact location. It was somewhere along the VDLP. It was the second day of two days of nearly continuous rain. My plans for keeping dry had failed and everything I owned was soaked. My clothes were drenched. My shoes… my spare pair, were saturated. I had just navigated a section of road made into a stream by the pouring rain. I paused and looked into the distance at the clouds that bore no sign of breaking. Rain ran from the bill of my hat in a steady stream.
I should have been miserable.
But I’ll never forget the feeling of euphoria that overwhelmed me. I can’t explain the peace that I felt. I remember quietly laughing at the adsurdity of the situation. At that moment, I had achieved what Echart Toll calls ‘living in the now’. I didn’t think of the road behind… I didn’t think of kilometres that awaited ahead. The place I was… the road and rain were the world and all that I considered.
In the days and months since I made that walk, I’ve tried to explain how, at that moment, I could be completely happy.
When I walked my first Camino, last year, I chose not to take photos or keep a journal of my journey. Certain aspects and experiences will always remain very private, shared only with a very few. I learned a lot on that walk… about me, the world and my place in it and who and what I want to be, in the life after that Camino. And, while there were so many days that were filled with the experiences that made that journey such a wonderful, life-altering event, when I DO talk with loved ones about my journey, there is one day that always rises above all the others.
It was well into the journey… because I didn’t keep a journal, I don’t know the exact date or even the exact location. It was somewhere along the VDLP. It was the second day of two days of nearly continuous rain. My plans for keeping dry had failed and everything I owned was soaked. My clothes were drenched. My shoes… my spare pair, were saturated. I had just navigated a section of road made into a stream by the pouring rain. I paused and looked into the distance at the clouds that bore no sign of breaking. Rain ran from the bill of my hat in a steady stream.
I should have been miserable.
But I’ll never forget the feeling of euphoria that overwhelmed me. I can’t explain the peace that I felt. I remember quietly laughing at the adsurdity of the situation. At that moment, I had achieved what Echart Toll calls ‘living in the now’. I didn’t think of the road behind… I didn’t think of kilometres that awaited ahead. The place I was… the road and rain were the world and all that I considered.
In the days and months since I made that walk, I’ve tried to explain how, at that moment, I could be completely happy.
