Since Returning

I've been home officially two weeks and will leave again in one more.

The day I returned my car died, our locks were changed, we had a new roomie move-in, and I hosted the co-producer of "Walking the Camino." The next day, I marathon trained 10 miles, reunited with friends at a wedding, released the film in Chicago with a tapas celebration of thirty friends, and co-hosted a bridal shower for Michael's beautiful fiancé (my soon-to-be-sis-in-law!) Jillian. The day after, I was offered a job producing a documentary short along the Camino, assembled a crew, continued to work full-time for "Walking the Camino," and was handed a plane ticket to Spain taking off a week from today.

.... Is it any surprise that I collapsed on the couch around 7pm on Saturday and called it Bedtime?!

I'm busy, overwhelmed, and certainly missing the peace of the Wilamette River.

At the same time, my heart is so filled with thanks & overflowing with gratitude for such loving friends that surround me and opportunities I never could've predicted... I wouldn't trade a single bit of the Crazy for an ounce of Normal.

I don't know how it is possible: the stress weighed with the joy, the light with the dark, the busyness with the peace. I'm learning to find each day as it is: a new opportunity to walk with God and respond to what He puts in my path.

Although it is still completely surreal that I will be returning to Spain (this time with a backpack of DSLR's & a crew of close friends) there's an ease with which I approach this new journey; this path that fills my thoughts & opens my heart. The foreign country that feels more like home than USA most days and the trail I was on just one year ago that changed me forever. While the past year has fully affirmed the saying the real Camino starts when you return home - the phrase has never felt more alive than in this very moment.

I will walk the same path, but a different Camino. A new story for a dear soul, Phil. It is hard for me to put words on... so here it goes - ultreia & buen camino!

Sometimes when I stop to consider the chain of events following an eighth grade love for Spanish in Miss Rose's class leading to a houseboat on the Portland shore, I wonder what else in life is contingent upon This Moment. I think about how each decision, as minor as it seems at the time, unequivocally leads to the next.

One year ago today, I wrote a post on Courage to face the unknowns of the Camino the night before I left (7/7/13). Now I work for a documentary film about others who have undertaken such courage and embarked on the Camino, so that those who view the film may be encouraged to do the same. 

Pilgrimage, as a spiritual discipline, has uniquely changed my life in a way that constantly bids me to return. Not necessarily the physical return, but the daily reminders of life's gifts in simplicity -and the discovery of God and oneself in the process.

The power is out on the river tonight and the stars are brighter than ever. As I sit by candlelight listening to the rhythm of the waves, I wonder if life could be more perfect.

(// and subsequently this post was not published last night when it was written due to lack of wifi...)

Today, I am Here.

I have been challenged lately to consider the fragments of time here on the river that picked up the frail pieces of my finals-drained, city-consumed, winter-tired bones when I first arrived in May; this restored rhythm of life that has breathed so intuitively into the core of who I am and energized my passion for pilgrimage and my dreams for the future. To conquer the looming dread of Chicago traffic & humidity & tourists that inevitably resound as the city's heartbeat of summer is going to be a consciously intentioned effort in my last few days here. As much as I am in love with the ever-accessible city life, perhaps my days are numbered in the fast-paced grind of Chicago.

How many other places will I ever live where I can kayak off my front porch?!

Too often I live without bringing attention to what actually brings life to the deepest part of me. I know what people tell me, the world; promises to turn my eyes to this or that and receive the satisfaction from which I should draw life. I float through my days with my attention turned, and wonder why I come to a breaking point; burnt out from a month's reckless run and drained from the constant inner chatter telling me who I should be more or less of - what to fix and make better. But that's not how I want to live, listening to the cries of others who seize my grip from what I know to be Me, as silly or intrusive or perhaps even unruly as I sometimes am. To live with intentionality means knowing what makes you tick and allowing more of those moments to be ushered into the day-to-day and consciously not building walls against the unavoidable insecurities, vulnerabilities, unknowns, frustrations, and confusions.

Filling my weekends with adventures.
Punchbowl Falls :: Columbia Gorge, OR

Haystack Rock :: Cannon Beach, OR

Here, life is full because I have stepped back, re-examined, and taken note. My life, free from responsibilities to adhere to any established pattern of another's living has allowed a rhythm to develop that works for me - creating space between work and play - the morning hush and the evening stars renewing wonder as a foreign silence invites me to rest my worries. Here, space and stillness are the hallmark of my days, the go-to, the natural. I don't have to seek it out, it is already calling to me, wrapping itself around me in morning coffees, afternoon reads, and evening strolls. Is it any question why I will miss it?!

Night silence.

So what do I do when I return to the buzz of Chicago, the far-removed city from this refuge along the pines? How do I create a sense of stillness, a quietness for God to speak? How do I live in the ways that I know bring life to who I am in a city that beats its fists against apartment doors, demanding me to come out and face the fight?

A dear gift from my closest friends before I left.
The friends that indeed make my heart hurt for Chicago...

I have no answers. Today, I am here.