Journal Excerpts ~ Camino de Santiago 2023 ~ Slow Down and Smell the Flowers

May 31, 2023- Arrived

I’ve arrived in France, my solo trek that was supposed to include me and my Mother’s Ashes changed course.

Abruptly on the way to Newark airport and far past the turnaround point, it hit me, “I forgot my Moms ashes” I yelled out, stunned, angry, and heartbroken that I left behind the most important part of my reason for returning to the Camino.

This would be the start of a challenging and far different Camino than I imagined and certainly different from the one I shared with my son in 2016.

June 11, 2023 – Rest day or 3

I’m currently in a pensiòn not far from a small beach in Portugalete, Basque Country. A tiny room, with a comfortable twin bed, small armoire, TV, and a wonderful wide chateau style window with a large deep brown frame, with no particular view other than the unremarkable neighboring buildings. The room is small yet romantic in a drunken writer’s sort of way complete with a small bottle of cheap Spanish wine on a wooden desk that has seen better days.

I walked from Biarritz, France to Larrabetzu, Basque with humility, vulnerability, discomfort, and anger of various roots.
Even in this, the Strange Road to Santiago has not disappointed in sharing its mythical magic and protection. The Camino always provides even if one is mentally kicking and screaming against the physical nature of the way.

This morning I woke up deciding that I’d hit a wall and a rest day was more than needed, it is required. I’m starting to doubt myself and doubt is enemy number 2, a close friend of enemy number 1…fear.

With my knees taking on some swelling, the insidious feeling of being old and overweight, and the emotional conversations that I was starting to have with myself as I struggled to stay focused on the most difficult paths doubt was starting to plant its seeds.
“I doubt I’ll be able to finish this and I really don’t care if I do or don’t, I didn’t train properly, what was my intention for this again? Greece and its beautiful beaches aren’t too far from here, what was I thinking in doing this walk so ill-prepared and I’m too old for this shit”.
All of these taglines and more were conversation starters that were oozing out of my physical and emotional pain. Doubt was starting to become heavier than my backpack. No Bueno.

As I repacked my backpack in the dark early morning hours, I thought to myself, “Stop, are you comfortable and stable? if I continue in this head space am I practicing ahimsa? Surely nonharm has to be practiced while making a pilgrimage.

After 7 days of walking it is time to stop, rest, reset, breathe, and reevaluate.
This is MY Camino, this is my walk, my path. How do I want to do this? With purpose, quality sleep, enjoyment, wisdom, a slower fucking pace, and joyful effort that’s how!

So I took an Uber to the Portside city along the Nervión River south of Bilbao about a 20-minute ride or in my current physical and emotional state a 20k uphill/12-hour walk that I knew I could not do stably and comfortably with grumpy knees and in my current headspace.
I booked a small room for myself to take a moment or 2 or even 3 days to allow myself some space because I can, and I should.

I will complete this walk, my way and to the best of my ability in trustful surrender, prayer, grace, and with complete kindness to myself.

~Be Brave, Be Kind, Be Still, Be You~