I've struggled these last few years, been changed, thoroughly in a hidden way.
God was there but I was in the darkness, unable to see. My heart was suppressed, my tongue pressed down and my throat tightened. In loneliness I'd let the dark in and was going under.
Then I started walking; a day, then two, then eight and I searched for 'long walks' and found a blog on the Camino and was drawn. My heart was a needle compass caught by the Camino.
I dreamt the impossible, three months. My boss was shocked, my manager said 'It's impossible, you won't get it', my director said 'Let me think about it.' I prayed, surprisingly optimistic, and it came, the note "approved."
On my first Camino I was opened up, my heart - a rusty tin with loneliness pain and fear, was hurt. And I slept in a tent in the woods of France, not knowing where you could stay. Ignorant, afraid to ask, not knowing French or assuming they would speak English. Angry. But it was very good. I had lots of time alone on looonng days walking. Dawn to dusk. And slowly I opened up, attuned to natural sounds, the cool of the wind, the smell of rain and earth. And my soul restful opened, I felt, knew, was guided. I 'saw' internally, grew with grace and 'heard' the still inner voice. "I love you." And on the
Camino Frances people loved me, helped me on my way, gave me advice, listened and consoled, included me in. It was wonderful.
Then I came home and was surprised, it's not the same anymore, not like the Camino, like life
can be. I was shocked, grieving, I cried for weeks. Life had less meaning at home. I had post Camino letdown symptoms. Badly. But, Spanish lessons helped, I read more on the Camino and some French too.
I tried but life was like a void. I was searching, what to do, who I was, where I fit in.
So I went again, this time meeting my brother, shared the way. It was good but different. Not as brutally spiritual, I didn't need the surgery, I needed time. But I was there and present and was loved and loving in return. The Camino taught me. Don't be insane, help people. And I went to Finisterre and knew what it was. The howling wind and setting sun over those tumbling ocean rocks, The End...
And I went home, but now I was tired, not upset or lonely. I knew it was there, in a way the Camino was 'home.' I was paring down my life, no TV, less clothes, less 'things,' less negative people. I felt lighter.
But the Camino wasn't finished with me yet, I felt stronger and called back, to walk with a friend from my first time. It was good, he knew I had changed and told me, 'you are grown, you are not afraid to hug me.' My pack was half the size of the first time. The Camino had helped me grow, and so too God and people on the way. Then I felt called to Portugal after Santiago, a drawing feeling inside. I'd be helped, but to go there. So I went. A few days in cities, a tourist but not enough. So I joined the Portuguese Way near the border. I knew a different way and different people and met some who had dedicated their lives to help others. Who had left everything corporate to serve others. I learnt this,
love is everywhere. And a Camino sister convinced me not to rush to Santiago for the fiesta, to let go and I never made it. Some died on a train on their way. God rest their souls. I learnt that some never have the option.
And back home again, and this time less disconnected, more me, surprised I'd clicked, grateful for time off again, grateful more in life. More willing to help others, volunteering at home. Belonging. Willing to try what the Camino and pilgrims had taught me.
Love is everywhere if you be it.
Then wanting
another Camino. The Via de la Plata in late Summer. Like Australia, dry, hot, in the forties. Roman ruins, a quieter way with black pigs eating acorns. Sometimes I lost the way and learnt, Spain is the the same on and
off the way. It taught me calm. That if you can habla, you need to carry less. People will help if you ask. My backpack was half the size of my second time, a quarter of my first.
And the Camino, it's a light in the next room, if you want it, it's a few steps away...
It's funny sometimes what we can find comfort in!
My wife says I have never settled back into 'the real world' although I say the real world is on the camino and cant wait to go back. Strange wee thing with me. When I see the weather forecast at night I find myself looking at the weather over the north of Spain rather than the north of Ireland and try to picture the pilgrims on the way
