"When it comes to putting broken lives together - when it comes, in religious terms, to the saving of souls - the human best tends to be at odds with the holy best. To do for yourself the best that you have it in you to do - to grit your teeth and clench your firsts in order to survive the world at its harshest and worst - is, by that very act, to be unable to let something be done for you and in you that is more wonderful still. The trouble with steeling yourself against the harshness of reality is that the same steel that secures your life against being destroyed also secures your life against being opened up and transformed by the holy power that life itself comes from. You can survive on your own. You can grow strong on your own. You can even prevail on your own. But you cannot become human on your own."

:: Frederick Buechner

:: The Camino and the friends that made it beautiful ::
< Diana Mini Film >

At Peace At Home

While I originally thought the noise of the city would enter my soul with its stress & anxiety after walking in the quiet mountains of Spain for 5 weeks, I have felt nothing but peace as I step one foot in front of the other into the places God has called me back in Chicago. In the Madrid airport, I felt the dread of Return and Re-entry, the words to describe the Camino were a jumbled mess in my brain as I searched for the perfect phrase or two to sum it all up.

But returning to welcome home signs and birthday presents, hugs and cards, late night tacos and early donut adventures, farmer's markets and tandem bike rides, rooftop movies and local sushi, midnight karaoke and river boat rides, and the genuine excitement of friends & family eagerly awaiting the stories of the Camino have made it feel natural and delightful to be Home.

 Home again.

The lessons of the journey have been a blur in my being until I am given opportunities to practice the simplicity and trust of the Camino in Chicago. It is only in returning to this familiar place that I can recognize Who I am Now compared to Who I was Before. I want to keep the spirit of the journey sacred and safe, and sometimes I fear that this culture of distraction, achievement, and self-absorption will dilute my new self and slowly begin to alter my attitude.

It is my prayer that the Camino is so deeply a part of me that it spills over into how I live each day as I love people, love God, and take life one day at a time.

Togetherness

My intention when I first began the Camino was to have an independent, solo, spiritual journey. I expectantly awaited quiet afternoons of writing and talking to God, combined with isolated walks listening to nature and unplugging from home. I wanted to prove to myself that I carried the strength and ability to do the Impossible and overcome the obstacles that fell in my path. I chatted with everyone on the trail, but avoided joining particular groups or ¨belonging¨ to anybody. I wanted my own journey; personal and relational in my way without the help of another to bring meaning.

And yet, it was only a week into this strong solo journey of mine, that I was struck with a hole of grief in my heart after talking to my Papa for the last time. I laid awake until sunrise as tears dropped to the earth without anybody physically there to pick up the burden and carry it with me. The presence of God was real and near, but I wasn´t aware of how my soul craved the hug of a familiar face until I headed up to my safe-haven of peace, Santander, to find solace on the beach for a day with my Chitown heart friend, Brittany. Over vino in the street, tapas unending, and a morning castle hike, we processed our lives, skyped home, and tatted ourselves with ink commemorating God´s faithfulness. She was there with me, she prayed and encouraged and supported.

It was a week later, after dropping my phone in a Spanish sewer and feeling the unconditional aid of my Camino family as they jumped from their bunks at midnight to fish for it, that I realized once again the weakness and vulnerability and sheer NEED we all carry for people. When we gave up on digging in a Rio of Mierda (look that one up...), we opened our albergue door to a starlit sky, laid on the hill, and beheld the glory of the world. In that moment, we wanted to awake everyone in the albergue and experience this miraculous sight with one another.

Because Beauty is so much more meaningful when lived together.

My love and desire for community was at its best while arriving to Santiago on my birthday. Shortly after, I was sung Happy Birthday in 10 different languages, toasted with drinks all night, showered with gifts and cards from these people I had only known for 11 days.  

The truth is: It was never meant to be a solo journey. We were made for Community... to celebrate with one another, to pick each other up in the challenges, to offer a word of loving advice, and to discover who each other are in the process. To step alongside one another either for a short time or forever. These friends have defined my Camino life... the comfort of dinners with them each night, jokes along the trail, stops at cafes, hilarious language barriers, and hammock heart talks in the afternoon is something I will forever carry with me. I love these people with a deep, wide, open heart... and THEY have defined my experience more than anything else. 

If the Camino is a representation of life in any way, it´s that life is about People.

And on our final day of walking to Finisterre - as if my weakness wasn´t entirely exposed - I had four new blisters appear, which made the last day the hardest walk of the entire journey. In the final kilometers, I took a tumble down the mountainside, wiped the blood from my knees, and argued with God screaming: ¨It´s my last day! Why is this happening now?!¨ I remembered that first day- bounding up the mountain with strength and speed. What happened?! After 32 days of walking and 800km´s later I now stumbled down the stony hillside?! I looked up to find my dear Czech friend Katrina, offering me her hand and bringing me to my feet. I will never forget her kind eyes looking into mine saying, ¨Rebecca, maybe God wants you to finish the Camino weak.¨

There was no other choice. It was clear. 

There is strength in weakness. 

There is beauty in needing people and reaching out your hands for help. 

We weren´t made to walk alone.

In those last few walking moments together before reaching Santiago de Compostela, our conversation often turned to what life looks like after this journey... Are there words to describe it? We agreed that this 5 week sacred pilgrimage, life-giving walk, grueling challenge, and eye-opening community cannot be summed up in any amount of words... no matter how beautiful or transparent or honest or heartfelt. It is a journey that takes on different forms and phases as you walk. When I look to the beginning, I remember the initial excitement with those first friends, I remember the intrigue with the the Camino lifestyle and the non-stop, photo-taking of incredible views.... and it feels like a completely different Camino from what it evolved into for me. Now I know that the Camino - just like life - is ever and only about people. Hearing their stories, investing in their life, and loving well. 

Which is exactly the Camino I will continue to walk as I return to Chicago tomorrow. I am thankful to have best friends on the other side... and excitedly await the hugs and stories to unravel in the land of Free Refills and Peanut Butter. Sigh. Tomorrow. The true Camino starts.

On Returning.

After reaching the peak of the Pyrenees that first day of the Camino, I picked up a stone with the intention of carrying it the whole way and dropping it at the cathedral in Santiago. Over and over again I found myself in sacred moments of walking as I clutched this stone in hand, praying for God´s provision, His comfort, His voice, and His love. But upon arrival to Santiago, my spiritual moment fell by the wayside with the adrenaline momentum of Finishing. I figured I would toss my rock into the sea of Finisterre after the next 3 day walk to the epic Pilgrim Lighthouse. It was only today, after discarding leftover shampoo and toothpaste, that I uncovered the stone tucked away at the bottom of my pack. I felt nothing but sheer disappointment in carelessly losing my long-awaited surrender... but then I realized perhaps there´s a reason I still carry the stone.

With the respected siestas, midnight dinners, 1 euro vino tintos, and Spanish spoken all around me these past two days, I have been able to slightly maintain the flavor of the Camino even while removed from it. But today I feel the impending weight of re-entering Life After The Camino as I head home tomorrow. Although I couldn´t always directly point to what the experience has meant to me these past few weeks... I know that the mirror of who I am now and how the Camino has changed me can only be reflected upon the Return.

And so, I carry this stone with me back to Chicago... as the true Camino of life starts when I return home.

Before Santiago

On Wednesday morning, I will turn 27 as we walk into Santiago at sunrise to finish this journey of 780km, 30 days, 5 blisters, 1 lost phone, and countless cafes later. I´ve marveled at ancient churches, fallen down mudslides, chanted hymns with nuns, spoken multiple languages over dinners with strangers, crossed the desert, gazed at the stars, slept in remote Spanish churches, fiesta-ed until early morning, endured nights of snoring pilgrims, gotten lost in fields for hours, bathed under bridges, & shared wine in the street with locals... It started with anxious excitement and the joy of a new adventure, then I was hit with the pain of death and grief... I walked through solitude and loneliness in the meseta, then experienced the beauty of community and dear friendship, God felt so near and with me, then it was crying out to Him for help and trust and presence... it was Spanish romance and sparks, then a hole in my heart of goodbye... It has been one foot in front of the other, one step at a time, little by little in the process of what seemed like an impossible pilgrimage.. and now it´s arriving to the cathedral for mass in Santiago as we reach our final destination.

When it´s all finished, I will cry not because of the beauty of another Spanish city or the majesty of the cathedral... It´s not because the end is reached and all is accomplished. Tears will float from my eyes because of every moment of challenge & beauty God has taken me through the past 5 weeks as I trust Him for a bed each night, a sip of water during the day, a cool breeze across my face, and a friend to make the walk that much faster. When I feel the weight of making my own decisions and attempting to be in control, I remember that He has always provided for me when I trust Him to bring the very best. And after walking for 8hrs a day carrying nothing but 2 outfits in my pack, headlamp, a canteen of water, my journal, extra sandals, hiking boots, and my walking stick, I now understand just a little more clearer that He truly is all I need. Just as He has carried me through this Camino, He will lead me through life after this journey because He is and forever always Enough.


¨Sooner or later we must realize there is no station, no one place to arrive at once and for all. The true joy of life is the trip. The station is only a dream. It constantly outdistances us. It isn´t the burdens of today that drive men mad. It is the regrets over yesterday and the fear of tomorrow. Regret and fear are twin thieves who rob us of today. So stop pàcing the aisles and counting the miles. Instead, climb more mountains, eat more ice-cream, go barefoot more often, swim more rivers, watch more sunsets, laugh more, cry less. Life must be lived as we go along. The station will come soon enough.¨

:: Essay by Robert J Hastings