Day 7 on the Camino Way

382 miles to go—give or take! As I sit in the hotel lobby this morning writing this, I think about the question several of you have asked: Why are you doing this? It’s impossible to say really. In 2007, when we first heard of El Camino, we were living in Jerusalem. A friend of ours talked about her experience and the challenge of it. On the walk back to our apartment that night, Sally and I talked about doing this one day. ”We should do this,” sort of talk.

Then the time came when it felt like if we were going to walk for 490 miles we’d better do it sooner rather then later. So here we are. I don’t know why, to be honest. When we decided to go to Jerusalem part of our reason was to demonstrate to our children and grandchildren that you don’t have to afraid to try new things. When they are faced with a challenge we hope that maybe they’ll think a little about us and give that hard, new idea or adventure a go. I’m not sure that this is anything more then wishful thinking, but maybe we can have some influence—if even just a tiny bit. Yeah?

We Can Do Hard Things!

The words around Mother Mary read: “Our Lady of the Popo” (don’t know that word). The bottom reads: “Blessing the villiage of Bargata and protecting pilgrims”. I think.

I remember back in the 60s and 70s women were told they should not exercise. These three are beasts. I love them. And there are so many like them in my life. Tough, funny, kind, resilient, and proving to themselves and to the young women and little girls in their lives that ”you can do hard things!” Sally and I want to pass that on to our beautiful grandchildren too. So, Emma, Brayden, Mahalia and Luciana—YOU CAN DO HARD THINGS!

So we do this for them, partly. But there is also an unknown in a long trek. When we decided to go to Jerusalem we didn’t know exactly why we should. We had to discover the reason on the ground, so to speak. And we did. We saw injustice—systemic, racial, and economic injustice. Now we can see it in other places too, and our family does what it can to address it. It’s hard. We don’t make much difference. But we stay in the struggle. We grind it out!

It Really is One Day at a Time

Yesterday started out great. The first couple of hours were like what you see above—just stunning views and easy roads, with no steep inclines or declines. Then, of course, the day wore on and wore on us. The last few miles were head down and one foot in front of the other. So maybe that’s part of the reason for being here at this time in our life. We know that the next season will be both the best part of our lives together and the toughest.

Our bodies will break down all the way to the end of life. That’s not morbid, that’s just true. We want to embrace what is to come and this walk is a metaphor of the final chapter in our time as a couple. Our intention is to move forward into the last bit of this gift of existence even more determined to live well and to continue to try new things. Why not? And when the end comes, which it will for one of us before the other—we will do that together too!

One of the protocols on the Camino is that on a narrow path, the slower walker DOES NOT have to stop and let the faster trekker through. I learned this after the second day when I did this several times—stopped and let a faster hiker through. Time after time the one behind me would say ”No, No, do not stop.” But I would. Finally, a Canadian women said, and I’m quoting: ”It’s like following a truck up a hill. The car behind has to wait for a passing lane. If the truck has to stop all the time they will never reach their destination.” Okay, that made sense to me. (As an aside, not everybody got the memo.)

There is something about this that connects with my faith tradition of Christianity. ”The first shall be last and the last shall be first.” And, ”You are to be the servant to all.” Every good story or worthwhile saying is layered. One of the layers in these two phrases from my book and from the lips of my guy is that at times we ought to move at the pace of our weaker, slower, less able members. Why? So that we can learn what only they can teach us.

Well yeah, there is that, for sure. But that’s too vague for me this morning. I like it though.

The Rabbit

We have a woman who is walking with us, but not. She passes us about 4 or 5 times a day. Sally and I refer to her as our rabbit. She flies by and then we don’t see her for a while, and then there she goes again striding by us. We are the tortoise and she is the hare. And we judge her. We are the methodical, hard working, nose to the grind stone turtles in the story. What is she? We don’t know, but she’s not us.

She’s alone and clearly she wants to be. We’ve tried talking with her, but she’s not having it. Here’s what seems clear, the Rabbit is in pain. She’s hurting over something that we will probably never know because it’s a private matter. She’s lost something or someone. And I expect she’s here to find herself in the midst of the loss.

So we are going to love her the best we can and we are going to start by not referring to her as The Rabbit. Today, if we encounter her on the road, we are going to learn her name at least.

Buen Camino!