Each Day

It's true that I am most inspired by early mornings... So when I awake around 5:30am to set out for another day through the Meseta, I begin to recount the  moments of beauty I hope to never forget.

(And then later, when I'm not so inspired, I return to this list...)

The brightness of the moon shining over the path greeting hazy-eyed pilgrims who search for yellow arrows to follow on the day's course

The  hushed chatter of strangers becoming friends in their own language amidst the overhang of trees and silent path before them

The first sign of a steeple indicating the next village as it slowly appears in the distance over the hill. Upon spotting it, thoughts begin to brim with the hope of a cafe, bocadillo, or jamon for hungry & tired pilgrims

The rhythm of my stick and the crunch of the ground as I walk solo

The music of birds outside my window as a cool breeze floats in during a hard-earned siesta

The long pilgrim afternoons bringing Camino walkers together in the courtyard of an albergue as we share the day's thoughts over San Miguels, vino tinto, and games of poker

Exploring Spanish towns, fiesta-ing, talking to locals, running into recognized peregrinos on the streets as if you live there

The relief and exhaustion that comes when you take off your boots, topple onto your bunk, and slowly move towards a cold shower

The sweat and the pain and the kilometers unending

The landscape of vineyards and mountains against hues of red & purple in the morning sky. Pops of blue and purple flowers like a blanket across the earth 

Tired pilgrims awaking to alarms as they shuffle with headlamps to pack it all up again, to walk again, to desayuno again, to head straight on to Santiago again and again and again...

Even Here

It's been said that "El Camino es magico," which was continually confirmed through the mountainous landscape of the Pyrenees and the unending grape vines of vineyards... it felt true while picking cherries and blackberries off trees for lunch and capturing unending fields of flowers in film. 

But as the terrain changes from green to brown and the mountains flatten to plains of rocky sand, each step is another painful reminder of how far Santiago feels. I have begun to countdown to the inevitable beer and nap at an albergue after another 25-30k daily through what could be cornfields of Iowa.

the beauty of the Pyrenees : Day One.

It's no coincidence that halfway through the Camino you are no longer lingering in the initial beauty of luscious greenery, rather walking through the literal desert... the dreaded "meseta" where water is scarce and shade is non-existent. Sleepy pilgrims' alarms ring around 4am as they race to hit the path before the blazing sun rises high to scorch the neck as we walk west-ward. The once peaceful path now feels like a competitive drive towards shelter to secure a bed in a town ahead. Pilgrims are desperate to escape this desert field by knocking out a 40k day with no breaks or sending their bags ahead via bus.

... the landscape these days.

So while I fight the 4 painful blisters that reside on each foot, readjust my pack to lift off sore shoulders, take off my 2 pairs of socks to stretch every 2hrs, and re-plant my stick into the road before me, I try to remember why I am here. I pray and I write and I sing and I play games with others in distraction from the obvious misery of heat and sand. This part of the path has also been the most solitary... because I guess that's what it truly means to go through the desert.

It is so comforting when the first sign of a town appears through the fields of brown.

I clearly responded in shock the other day when a pilgrim friend told me La Meseta is his favorite part of the Way, as this is the stint that feels "the most spiritual." He went on to say that when we are free from the distractions of our surroundings or other people, we have only one choice - to draw near to God. In taking his words to heart, I know I do not walk through the desert alone... God is here with me still - and what a picture I hope to carry into life as I walk in days beyond the Camino. 

For now it feels tiring and unending, but I know arrival is impossible unless I go through even the lonely and hard times. It's in these moments that faith is tested... It's in the challenge of going forward in the difficulty, not just the lovely, where we choose to trust and say God is enough. Although I fail at this over and over again, the desert has provided many faith-building moments to search and believe He is here.

the guideposts that mark my way

Once I arrive in Santiago, I'll know that this part of the pilgrimage was worth it... But for now it's still a matter of convincing myself that's true each morning as I lace up the boots and continue to walk with one foot in front of the other.

The Path

Whether sitting on a rock overlooking the Pyrenees, watching the sun rise to awake the pueblos, watching sleepy Spaniards arise from their slumber as the rooster crows... I often sit and think: I love this. 

the important things

After 14 miles of grueling Pyrenees mountains, I watched as a few Brits hopped out of a taxi to have a coffee with fellow pilgrims. I must have given the impression of enjoying the Camino, because they started to inquire - Why?? 

When prompted, I realized it really comes down to three things: 1. Challenge 2. Community 3. Spain 

St Jean pied de Port ... those first steps down this street

Yes it's blister-fighting, back-aching, incline-climbing, cliff-scaling, path-following, muscle-tensing pain... But they say the level of physical fitness going into the Camino is irrelevant. While it's a challenge on the body, it's so much more a challenge on your mind. After all, waking up at 5am, packing up again to walk 17+ miles across fields of wheat and rolling hills in the blazing sun takes some inner pep-talking. 

Leaving Roncevalles on Day Two... only 790k to go

But walking with yesterday's clothes drying on my bag, the click of my walking stick creating a rhythm on the road, listening to the hushed chatter of various languages as strangers become pilgrims brothers and sisters, I have begun  to realize there's nowhere else I would rather be than here. While my tendency is to work towards a goal and achieve beyond what I thought I could - the Camino is not about goals and destinations. It is not about competition or arrival.

through tunnels, over rivers, crossing bridges...

It's passing through valleys, navigating farmland, and a respect for the path you are on. It's new friends and family dinners... Stopping at local cafes and drinking 1 euro vino in a river. It's swimming in creeks and watching sunrises and eating pilgrim menus until you're so full and tired all you can do is nap.

fields on fields on fields, with mountains in the background

Not knowing where you're going to sleep, staying in monasteries, worshipping in tiny churches, laying stones down on the path symbolizing a moment of surrender...

The Camino is a spiritual journey whether you're taking a quiet moment to reflect on the path or grabbing San Miguels w/ the pilgrim friends you continue to see in various stages.

walk on.

This journey. It's unexplainable. 

And it's wonderful.

Ultreia.

At Home

The first time I heard Spain's Spanish in the Boston airport, I immediately felt back at home. What is it about this country??! 

It has my heart.

I was thankful to find this Chicago beauty on the streets of Madrid... Only moments after I wandered through shops of jamon and Alimentacion with a smile I couldn't conceal. Memories of the siesta & fiesta culture flooded to mind as I watched Spain awake around 10am. Immediately I felt back at home... Madrid: my home across the pond.

Heart talks at a local cafe for hours, wandering a free museum, naps in a Retiro park... I went into this trip knowing I would make many friends of the road, but I am thankful it began with a friend of the heart.

Tomorrow, I Go.

Whenever that exact moment arrives to pack up and leave, to say goodbye to life here for a trade of the unknown, it is always met with a bittersweet mix of excited anticipation and nervous fear.

I will be bringing just a bit more than this....

After all the guidebooks, blog-reading, forum-chatting, past-pilgrim talking, random facebooking of current Camino walkers, there has been something building in my spirit wanting to embark on a journey lasting longer than my original plan... to do something I never thought I could do... to test myself - physically, mentally, spiritually - in a way I never have before. Three weeks was comfortable... but five weeks??! To me, that is completely out of the zone of what I know to be tolerable. So, as my fingers dialed American Airlines and the words fled from my mouth, it was as if I was numbed to the person changing their flight - and that person wasn't me. But I couldn't help it. This country that I fell in love with three years ago, it had stolen all common sense and logic as it staked its claim on my heart and wooed me back to itself. 

< photo : Portland 2012 >
Adventures come great and small.

When I try to describe to friends and family that I will be walking a pilgrimage in Spain, I often struggle with the words to make it not sound completely foolish. Partly because of my stumbling descriptions, and partly because it's not a recognized thing in the US (less than 3% of Camino walkers are Americans...) I have received a myriad of responses ranging from believing this is utter insanity to awesome adventure. While my family errs on the side of safety and physical ability, my friends tend to look through the lens of passion, spirituality, and calling. I've been labeled with the words brave or tough or strong, and have attempted in my usual strategies to flawlessly model both - but now that I'm one day away from leaving, I know none of these are true.

In the spirit of independence and summer and adventures, I've wanted to be so fearlessly brave that I run into this pilgrimage head-on, no looking back, without a doubt in my soul. But to say I'm unafraid would be pretending. The dictionary defines courage as doing that which brings you fear. Courage is to have faith to see the fear and face it. The Camino greets me with a spectrum of fear... Will I make friends or feel lonely? Will I get lost? Do I have the right gear? Will it be too difficult? Will I want to give up? Will I miss people here?... All I want to do is yell at this fear and let my strength overcome it... But now I see that fear is part of the process. Without fear, there is no courage. In this way, I see fear as the integral way in which to move forward. 

< Photo : Santander 2009 >
I can't believe I arrive here tomorrow.

I want to do the Camino to remember that God is Enough. 

That He is with me every single step. That He provides, He comforts, He brings meaning to the journey. I want to begin something that feels impossible, but becomes possible. I want every step to be worship. I want to remember the persecuted believers that walked this road so many years ago in search of religious freedom in the west. I want to eat family dinners, drink Spanish wine, and watch the sun go down behind the Pyrenees. I want to make a Camino family and feel that bonded sense of camaraderie that inevitably comes after suffering through something together. I want to step out of the familiar Chicago summer scene and unplug the media and be quiet. I want to walk slowly, take photos, and remember that it is the process that counts. I want to make my Camino separate from others on the walk, and do it my way. I want to trust God for a bed and food and a friend each day. I want to walk into Santiago de Compostela on my birthday, as I see the spindles of the long-awaited cathedral coming into view, and I want to reflect on a good year.

The Spanish word they use to greet and meet on the Camino is Ultreya: to move forward with courage. 

And this is exactly what I want most of all.

So, tomorrow I go. July 11th I start. August 13th I return.

The in-between is the questions and unknowns - and that is where the story is written.

Buen Camino!

"Stand at the crossroads and look; ask for the ancient paths, ask where the good way is, and walk in it, and you will find rest for your souls."

:: Jeremiah 6:16

Books on Books

Yesterday, after ordering a roll of quarters at my local bank, the teller glanced at me with a furrowed brow and in a questioning tone assumed: "Is today laundry day?" Like a kid caught guiltily in my tracks, I gave the honest answer in a tone uncharacteristic to the suggestion that today was, in fact, dedicated to bleaching tanks and air-drying jeans. The conversation continued into teaching and kids and summer... sparked by The Usual, "So... what do you do all summer long?"

The thing is, I never truly know how to reply to that question with the underlying implication that I might for some reason find myself with a lack of options to explore, or in a state of boredom unique to this season alone. 

Of course the beat of everyday lists - laundry and groceries - continues... but I can hardly think of a single moment when there isn't something interesting to do... especially when I have an addiction to library reservations and book selections. You see, when people ask what I am reading, it's hard to know which answer to give. Since I can remember, I have had a stack of at least six books I am working through on the reg, as I suffer from a case of Reading A-D-D. You just never know which genre you'll feel emotionally ready for - deep & spiritual, light & happy, imaginative & playful? 

That's what I love about books: there's one for every mood.

So when I caught a look at my nightstand the other day and counted eleven books, I realized I had taken it the level of Problem. Instead of half-finishing, bookmarking, and underlining for later, perhaps I should focus on actually finishing...?

For this reason, above outfits or supplies or sleeping bags... books has created the burden of my Spanish packing thus far. With my personal under-7-pounds backpack limit for the Camino, choosing just ONE book for the road creates quite the conundrum. How do you choose?! 

I see only two options here: finishing all books in six days and letting the remainder decide, or closing my eyes and pointing to the winner.

Stay tuned.

One Week

Leon to Santiago - my Camino.
The trail I will follow for 3 weeks.

When people hear I am leaving for Spain in a week to walk a total of 152 miles, they often focus on the amount of physical exertion it will take to carry all I own in a backpack through a trail of inland mountainous villages. While this pilgrimage will be challenging in the aspect of walking 10-14 miles daily, finding a bed to sleep in at night, and relying on locals to show me the way of yellow arrows, in many ways it will be even more a process of the mind & spirit.

The Camino, with its thousands of years of history, is a spiritual path that will remind me of the many that traveled before me in search of religious freedom. Persecuted Christians walked this trail to flee the religion of eastern Spain and seek solitude & freedom in the steeples of Santiago. The Camino will be blisters and sore backs, but it will also be sunrises and siestas and contemplative prayer. It will feel lonely and individualistic, and it will be rich in family style community. The distance will feel long and tiresome, yet the trip will go by so quickly.

In many ways, I have no idea what the Camino will be like at all. But I know that there will be many times when I will probably question why I'm there... and in those valleys, I will learn more and more that God is enough. And that truth just never gets old.

In one week: Buen Camino!