Balanced On the Edge

A woman at the tourist office in Leon gave me the address of a student residence near the cathedral run by Trinitarian nuns. 

Sister Patricia from Kenya, who speaks fluent Spanish, greeted me and led me to my very own room with my own bath, a real luxury on the Camino unless you want to pay for a hotel room.  

  
I  needed the rest because of a bit of tendinitis. If I want to make it to Santiago, it’s important to listen to the body. Go slowly, my legs tell me. 

Sister Patricia advised me to do everything slowly so that when I arrive in Santiago I’ll remember the joys of the way: fellow pilgrims, friendships, nature, and the peace of walking. 

When she found out that I’m a mother, she said she would pray that my sons heed the advice of their mother and that they wait to marry a good woman who will cherish them. Her prayers brought tears to my eyes.

My conversation with Sister Patricia was the second time in one day that my heart was touched. Outside the cathedral, by coincidence  I met up with my Dutch friend Andre again. He said, “First a prayer, then a cigarette and coffee.”  He’s a tall, thin man with stark white hair, an older gentleman who happens to be a poet and a performing artist in the Netherlands. 

When we were at the outdoor cafe, he sang a song for me, “You Never Walk Alone.” The song is about the beauty of nature and the joy of communion with the divine, that this communion is why we are never alone. I’ve felt alone sometimes on the Camino, especially when I’m in a city like Leon with no companions, and his song touched me so that tears welled.

He wrote me an email later saying that “Tears are the pearls of life. When you are able to shed and share them, you are wealthy.”

I am traveling alone on the Camino, but I am not alone. When we need love, somehow love finds us, but only when we allow ourselves to be vulnerable. 

Today I walked 20 km, from Fromista to Carrión de los Condes. Most people stop here even if they feel strong, because the following 17 km go through a kind of nature preserve and there are no hostels or water fountains, very tough for pilgrims who have been walking since 6 or 6:30 in the morning.

I’m staying at a hostel called Santa María de los Caminos, an albergue run by nuns. They are very young and kind. When we arrived dusty and sweaty with our backpacks and dirty boots, they had set out orange juice and cookies for us. The way they greeted us is a lesson in how to treat people. A little welcoming refreshment isn’t hard to supply, and it provides a nice treat to people who could use it. 

Every day on the Camino I either meet someone new or I run into someone I haven’t seen in a few days. 

The Way of St. James is a continuous flow of people from all over the world–Romania, Japan, France, Korea, Brazil, Mexico, the U.S., Australia, and more. Someone comes into my life and then passes in  a day, so I work at paying attention in the moment. 

All that matters is enjoyment of the present moment, because we might not ever see each other again. Or we might meet again the next day, so it is always important to treat each other with kindness and respect. 

Today I met José from Mexico. When I noted that his pack seemed to weigh a lot because I was walking faster than he was, he said it was because his pack was filled with all his sins and fears. 

Most of us on the Camino are carrying fears, and some of us carry the memories of past mistakes.  But whatever form the Great Creator takes, she forgives us the moment we come into the world. I don’t believe in original sin. I told José we all carry fears, that he is no worse than anyone else. 

As far as fear goes, walking through wheat fields under the blue sky with a falcon overhead will burn off any lingering anxieties. 

Today I’m staying in Atapuerca, a town where human bones have been found that are 1.7 million years old. According to what they have found, the hominids who lived here were cannibals. As a Swiss man said to me, I guess there were no panaderías (bakeries) for them. If you get hungry, what are you going to do?

The walk today went through the Sierra de la Demanda, a forest full of wild flowers and ancient oaks. The soil here is red, and for a little while I felt like I was back in Georgia walking near Kennesaw.

Even though I love the walking, being away from home this long is teaching me more than ever to appreciate where I live. Of course I miss my family. I think about them while I’m walking and send them love and positive thoughts.

Every time we go to a new town, stop at a cafe, or visit a church, we get a stamp on our pilgrim’s passport. It’s a bit like collecting Pokemon cards.

Like many pilgrims on the Camino, I’m starting to lose track of the days. What is the date? What’s the day of the week? Time slows when you walk across the landscape.

Sometimes I cross over a highway and see the trucks on their way to deliver goods, or people on their way to work, and it seems like a faraway life. 

My immediate sounds are bees humming in the honeysuckle, birds singing from the grass and the ash trees. Cars and planes make their motorized presence known from a distance, and only once in a while.

Today I had a scare. The gravel and dirt path opened out onto a relatively quiet country highway for about 200 meters. I could see the symbol of the scallop shell down the road on the other side indicating the way. But as I was going around a sharp curve of the highway, a swarm of motorcyclists came zooming around the corner, and I had to duck behind the guard rail. On the other side of the guardrail was a wall with a drop of about 50 meters. I could see the motorcyclists leaning into the guard rail. One of them got so close I could look into his eyes.

But here I am in a hotel, with ice on my knee and ankle. For the first time in nine days I’m not sleeping in the same room with at least five other people. Tonight I’m resting in a place with my own bathroom! 
I’m splitting the cost and sharing time with a fellow pilgrim, which is very nice. In medieval times there where all kinds of pilgrims. Some even paid others to do the pilgrimage for them! So today I am treating myself to the luxury of a nice bath and a good rest.