My Pilgrimage: El Camino de Santiago de Compostela

Last week I completed one hundred miles of the El Camino de Santiago (St. James) de Compostela (campo de estrellas, or “field of stars”). It's called a pilgrimage instead of a hike and millions of pilgrims have completed this journey in the past eight hundred years from various paths near Spain.  Many hike the nearly five hundred miles, starting in France. I heard of this hike while watching the Martin Sheen movie, "The Way". I was intrigued to see if my experience would be similar to the character in the movie. It was a bucket list item for me when I couldn't quit thinking about it after watching the movie. I decided to start in Leon to hike to the Cruz de Ferro (Iron cross) and then commence in O'Cebreiro on a continuous path to Santiago.

I trained for the physical work of hiking one hundred miles by hiking several days in a row of ten plus miles. Was it going to be just a walk in nature or maybe more? I thought I would be doing some thinking in my head, spending time sorting out the big questions in life and try to figure out what comes next for me as I leave Europe. I spent little time prepping for the soul work that I was hoping for,  just noting that I would try to spend mornings alone on the trail and then socialize in the afternoon. I had very little expectations about it.

I also spent much time thinking of what to take with me. I packed

hiking sticks, rain wear, sunhat, hiking clothes, a Camelbak backpack, a number of pairs of socks. I figured out that I could hand wash my hiking clothes every other day in the sink, counting on the quick-dry feature to get me through. I pondered what this pilgrimage really meant to me as I was packing and figuring out what to take in my small bag for the two-week trip. I remembered to take stones with me to leave at the Iron cross. I took three of them for each of my children to ask a blessing for them at the end of the first day at the foot of the cross.

And then off I went. I met my friend Lonna from Texas at the Madrid airport and we got settled in our Madrid hotel where we would meet our group the next day to start.
Our trip was arranged with a company called Fresco Tours (Fresco Tours). They found old Spanish inns and monasteries for us to stay in so that we could avoid the albergues - essentially hostels - along the way. They carried our packs from place to place, requiring that we only carry what we needed for the day. They also provided our meals along the way, making it easy for us to just hike. (I would enthusiasistically recommend Fresco - the service, the hotels, and food were well beyond what I expected).

I met my pilgrim family at the breakfast of our first day. I found out quickly that there were a couple of people from Portland, two from Canada, one from Australia, two from New York, two Southern belles from Louisiana, two from California, and four from Texas. There were three attorneys in the group, a nurse anesthetist, a college administrator, an engineer, a judge, and many that were retired. There was a couple on their honeymoon and two other married couples among us. Everyone was well traveled and seemed to have a joy for life.

Through the discussion in the first few days, I also noticed that not all of group was religious. We started the hike with a mass in Leon at the Basilica San Isidoro and a blessing. The Pilgrim blessing in Jesus' name was "Be for them their companion on the way, their guide at the crossroads, their shelter on the road, their shade in the heat, their light in the darkness, their comfort in the weariness and their resolve in intentions. So that through your guidance they arrive sound at the end of their road, and enriched with grace and virtue, return home healthy and full of worthy virtues." Our group consisted of a Quaker, a couple of yogis, a handful of Catholics (or former Catholics), a southern baptist, some undisclosed denominations, and one person running from God.  But most were seekers of  something bigger or higher, though a few admitted that they were promised good food and drink and just wanted to get some exercise.

I  would have been more comfortable initially if we were all the same religion, coming
from a place where we all  knew the same basic doctrines and prayers. But the Camino provides (Thank you Kim V). It turns out that our differences enriched my soul-searching conversations with my fellow pilgrims. It stretched me to hear the person discuss their lives in a different soul language, often with the same meaning and quest that I had. I was inspired by their stories, their happiness, and life journey. It wasn't about a set or rules, but instead sharing the same questions and being open to the answers. We all had faith and we all experienced the grace of the trail. Each step forward removed me from the stress of the world and drew me more and more into the pilgrim family. I was hungry for a bigger perspective.

The Camino had a giant community of people from around the world and the trail demands that we support each other to answer some basic questions. Who am I? Why
am I here? What do I seek? Who shall I spend my days with? What can I give? And something on the trail breaks down barriers for important discussions in those life stories. People you didn't know before became open to knowing who you are and appreciating the journey you are on (on the Camino and in life). Compassion walked with us.

There were some rock stars on the trail. Our group was taken with Father Derrick, a VERY handsome priest from Ireland, who brought 48 members of his church to the trail to walk their spiritual journey. He had time to converse with whoever came upon his way, answering questions as he could and greeting pilgrims along the way. He was jovial and we looked for his group every day. One mate said he would consider turning Catholic if he could spend time with Father Derrick. I met a man from Maastricht  who started in the Netherlands and had been hiking for three and one-half months. He was very joyous to be so close to Santiago. There was a woman from Minnesota, who temporarily left her husband and five children to walk the whole path. Her husband and children were so proud. Two young girls were walking the wrong way, and I found they had already finished the Camino, but were staying two extra weeks to volunteer at an albergue to help other pilgrims.

There were some angels on the trail too, helping people negotiate stone bridge crossings, giving care to feet with blisters, and even aiding someone who experienced a heart attack. We helped each other with rain gear and lending out extra clothing for the cold.I passed a woman helping a blind man with a leg impairment walk slowly down a hill, negotiating steps treacherously so he wouldn't slip. I was lost one day, having turned wrong after a passport stamp and an older Spanish farm woman squawked at me to say "Camino" and point me in the right direction.  It turned into not just a leisurely walk - it was overflowing with what I was seeking. The Camino had the power to heal, to shift paradigms, to begin peaceful internal work. I examined my part in it.We all were fully present for each other, the biggest gift we had to offer. Step by Step: we could only see ahead 1 arrow at a time.  Step by Step we walked, sharing ourselves and giving out fully. It was the peaceful journey of soul work.

Some days I was alone. I lost the chatter that was usually in my mind
and the chatter of those behind me. I embraced the silence, and the sounds of the trail around me. The birds chirped, the pilgrim delighted, and the wind rustling in the eucalyptus trees drowned out the thoughts in my head. I had most of one day of hiking alone, along the mountain ridge looking out over the valley with fog, sun, the fields of cows waiting to be milked - just me and the path. My feet seemed to not even touch the pavement as I delighted in it. I was a novice, open to the experience and no expectation other than what was presented in the path before me.

I saw an arrow that was curved and seemed to tell me to turn around. I turned around. Then I saw a pair of arrows  curved together,  the head of one pointing to the tail of the other,  making a circle and I laughed as I thought I might be lost, perhaps the trails was telling me that I was. But I twirled in a circle and had not a care in the world. Soon others came along and we continued on our way.

I had some struggles on the path. I left a friend behind who was slower on the first day. I placed my stones at the cross and then found some water, my sandals to change into, and a seat on the bus. She arrived after the group had left and I examined my role as her friend and felt I let her down. Life always brings you to yourself, even if you deny it, hide from it, or make excuses. The Camino facilitated bringing that lesson to me and I learned from it. Everything that comes is part of the journey and magic happens. My God brought that to me. He wasn't out there somewhere, but inside my soul, helping make me what I was created to be, my divine DNA.

We finally reached Santiago and walking into the city as a group was a let-down. We reached our destination and emotionally we felt flat. They say the journey is the most important part. It's best measured in friends, rather than miles completed. Soulful utopic places are never on a map, are they?

 The next day, we toured the city and then entered the Cathedral
in Santiago to prepare for the Pilgrim mass. The mass was in Spanish and most of the group was not Catholic. At the end of the mass, the incense was lit in the large botafumeiro, the famous incense holder in the cathedral. The monks started the swinging and the botafumeiro swung from side to side in the large church as the pipe organ played the closing hymn spreading blessing as it swayed.  We ducked as it moved by us, wondering if this tradition was dangerous as it seemed. I felt filled as I celebrated this closing with my friends. We walked to the line behind the altar and climbed the steps to hug St. James as we looked out over the back of the altar. It doesn't get better than this.

When we arrive back home, we have the choice to stay on a pilgrimage. And how do we do that? I'm having a hard time assimilating my experience on the trail into my real life. Those days on the trail will stay with me forever. I feel changed. But we decide what to bring back with us. I have my certificate of completion of one-hundred miles with my Latin-ized name, my stamped passport, some souvenirs and many memories and photos. I also choose to bring back unconditional acceptance of the person I am and the journey I am taking. And I brought home my new pilgrim friends in my heart.