One Day Like This

How I slept that night...

I may have found a place of magic. Tonight I sleep in the loft/attic of the Church of Saint John the Baptist. It's a parish albuergue and the church dates back to the 16th century.

Entering the church balcony

I'm sleeping on a mat on the floor and I can already tell that it'll be close quarters within the inescapable vicinity of snoring, but I think I'll be alright. It's just so beautiful.

I'm glad I walked the extra 8km to Granon when the group I was mostly walking with stayed in the more traditional stopping point of Santo Domingo de la Calzada. I don't think my body can take another nearly 30km walk three days in a row.

View from the balcony

I may have been dehydrated today.  Almost out of water and on the last long stretch of the hottest part of the day, I started having really silly thoughts like:

"If only I had an umbrella, I could be under shade all the time!"

And I may have started singing my favorite tunes from Disney films, but I tend to do that anyway.

A nice Camino-themed door knocker

At one point someone passed by me and said they were surprised I was barely sweating.  This triggered thoughts back to my limited first aid training where I remember that as being a possible sign of dehydration.  Oh and then when I reached the town I completely missed the albuergue sign and kept walking, adding unnecessary steps.

Peeling potatoes

When I finally reached the church and where I was going to stay I walked in and was a bit disoriented by the dark stone corridor that narrowly led up to the common area. I sat down right away just to gain my senses while a pilgrim I knew grabbed my bag off my shoulders. I sat there for a while just coming back to life, looking like a complete mess, while the woman who ran the house and the other pilgrim spoke in Spanish.  At one point she smiled warmly and said something to me. I looked to my friend for translation and he said, "She says you're beautiful."

Dinner that night

That night we all cooked dinner together and afterward meditated and prayed in our own languages in a group in the balcony of the church. I was the only one who spoke in English,  and one of the things I said was to hope that we live spiritually everyday in the way we believe in ourselves on the Camino. I talked about the journeys we took just to get here and how our journeys cross now. I had no idea if people understood, but one person after came up to me, hugged me, and thanked me.

Something for the Weekend

Why not celebrate the end of my first week into the Camino by walking my longest leg of 30km under the hot Spanish sun and waking up at my earliest time at 0430? The day seemed like it would be difficult so I linked up with a group from the start in case I ended up needing some pilgrim encouragement. Oddly enough, the next day asks for only 20 or 21km and I consider doing more to put myself on a fast track schedule. Technically, the faster I am, the more money I save, right? Not sure if my body will agree...or if that's truly the point or a priority of mine for the Camino.

After the walking part of the day is over I decide that doing 30km in 40 degrees Celsius might be the limit. The only pilgrim hostel to stay in has so many bunk beds crammed together in one giant dormitory room that I feel like we should inflate a beach ball and bounce it around like they do with massive crowds in outdoor concerts. I'm not a fan of the tan lines I received from the shadeless walk, and getting sunburned would be miserable so I decide to wear sleeves for the next day even if it'll make me warmer.

Today I thought, "If I'm walking 20+ km each day, does that mean I should be running 10km daily back at home?"

It never seems to work out that way though, does it? Not when you mix in work or social events or everything else that you have in your daily life that you don't have on the Camino. Though I'm sure a renewed sense of time is something that people take back with them when they return home, even if it's just for a little while.

With my mornings here, waking around 5 or 5:30am makes me happy (even though I don't admit it till about 7am), and waking up after 7am makes me think I've completely wasted my morning. Oh and relaxing into bed around 9pm is a joy so I can just write or listen to music or read until I fall asleep. I'm not sure how old any of that makes me sound, but most people I come across who guess my age think I'm five to seven years younger than I actually am.  Let's just hope that comes in handy later on ;)

I think with being here, time becomes a funny thing. We start each day with some kind of schedule in our minds and I feel pretty accomplished  after walking, resting, eating, showering, laundry, writing and exploring. Although, it's the timeless moments of meeting someone worthwhile or seeing something amazing, or reaching some new revelation about your life that you didn't know you longed for, that are the moments you just can't plan for.

She Moves In Her Own Way

A little while ago I realized I´ve walked over 100km.  I had planned in a rest day for today, but it didn´t exactly work. Yesterday when I set off around 0530, my plan was 20km for Los Arcos and I was the first one to leave my hostel room. I ended up walking an extra 8km past Los Arcos to Torres del Rio just because it felt right and it turned out to be one of the best decisions I had made so far.

I ended up having a dinner amongst 10 people with a combined 4 languages. Only one person knew all 4 moderately well, and the rest of us knew only one or a combination of French, Italian, Spanish and English.  It was surreal switching back and forth seamlessly between the different languages and helping others with translation. I may have been in the English with limited Italian category. We were in a medieval pub-like setting, and at one point the background filled with country music.  Everyone looked at me and shouted, "America!" and sometimes called me "Arizona."  At one point, my friend Raymond asked me how I was and I said I was happy because everyone here seemed happy.  Nothing was lost in translation because all we needed was that. 

Raymond is in a group with two women and one of them, named Anna, always smiles so warmly and hugs me when she sees me even though we have no idea what the other is saying if Raymond isn´t there to translate.  They came from Barcelona and told me very convincingly that I must go one day.  Unfortunately the trip ends for them in Logroño and they had to take a bus from Torres del Rio to there because someone in the group had a foot injury.

After hearing about people already going home because of injuries, or having to see doctors when in Pamplona, I had planned a rest day for myself, but it didn´t work.  I walked 28 instead of 20 past Los Arcos to Torres del Rio, and then I walked 20 instead of 10 to Logroño instead of Viana for the planned rest day.  It was probably the best kind of peer pressure I could hope for.  It´s funny to decide you´re done and plan on stopping and then randomly running into someone you met before who just puts the idea in your head of, "What if you went further?"

I suppose it´s just a matter of limits.  I think everything from physical, mental and emotional limits will be encountered here.  Whether I´m fighting my body to let me go farther and faster, or encouraging myself to take step after step knowing I´ve never walked like this before, or missing someone at home terribly and knowng you´re experiencing an unbelievable journey with the dull ache of being incomplete without them.

I don´t think I want to particularly find my limits, but really just see how I fall within the expecations I have of myself.  I´m racing no one, and just hoping to make it.  There´s no prize at the end, but I´m searching for something profound. I believe in my strength and health, but I still take rocky downhill treks slowly and drink ridiculous amounts of orange juice.  Perhaps I´m planning ahead in case those limits are reached, but regardless, everyday I feel more grateful for my body and want to do everything I can to take care of it and be in one piece for the trip home (which seems so far away!).  Lately it´s the little things, and making it past 20km without any blisters feels like someone just gave me a box of chocolates ;)

--j

Songs from my Camino Playlist

Thanks everyone for their recommendations.  Here are some of the songs I´ve been listening to that help get me through the day.  I don´t normally listen to music on the actual hike, since it´s nice to take in the nature and you have to look out for the cyclists, but it helps to listen to music when I´m winding down my day, writing in my journal, or trying to rest through someone´s snoring.

Some but not all of them:

1. The Proclaimers - 500 Miles
2. Johnny Cash - I Walk the Line
3. Oleander - I Walk Alone
4. Counting Crows - Walkaways
5. U2 - Walk On
6. Something Corporate - Watch the Sky
7. Maria Taylor - Clean Getaway
8. Jimmy Eat World - Chase this Light
9. Death Cab for Cutie - You Are a Tourist
10. Nancy Sinatra - These Boots Are Made for Walkin
11. Dashboard Confessional - Everybody Learns from Disaster
12. Bishop Allen - Things Are What You Make of Them
13. Alicia Keys - Superwoman
14. Anna Vandas - What is
15. Cake - I Will Survive
16. Thao with the Get Down Stay Down - Know Better, Learn Faster
17. The Submarines - Shoelaces
18. Taylor Swift - Long Live
19. Ini Kamoze - Here Comes the Hotstepper
20. The Kooks - She Moves in her own Way
21. Barnaked Ladies - Another Postcard
22. Cake - The Distance
23. Noah & the Whale - L.I.F.E.G.O.E.S.O.N.
24. Camera Obscura - Let´s Get Out of this Country
25. Foo Fighters - Walking After You
26. All American Rejects - Move Along
27. Badly Drawn Boy - A Minor Incident
28. The Beatles - Let it Be
29. Ben & Jason - The Wild Things
30. Aerosmith & Run DMC - Walk this Way
31. U.N.P.O.C. - Here On My Own
32. Bob Dylan - Shelter from the Storm
33. Bruce Springsteen - Born to Run
34. Crowded House - Weather with You
35. The Chemical Brothers - The Golden Path
36. Fun Lovin´Criminals - We Have all the Time in the World

(Those are just a few from over a 100)

Handle with Care

All poncho´d up. Still smiling.

I walked to Puente La Reina from Pamplona this morning leaving at 6am.  It was around 24km and much easier and relaxing than I thought it would be.  I walked mostly alone and thought about how nice it was to have Natasha to walk with during the first few days.  I realized how nice it was to look after and be looked after by someone.  It´s nice to be amongst people that believe in you and what you´re doing without knowing your whole story.  Natasha helped me at the pharmacy to buy some sports cream for muscle inflammation when my lack of Spanish and wild and extravagant hand gestures failed me--though I´m sure entertained everyone else. 

There were also a few points of low morale during the walk to Pamplona and it was nice to encourage eachother on.  We discussed how during the walk you have a lot of time to think, and sometimes you end up thinking about things that make you lose focus, energy, or happiness. Sometimes it takes more than yourself to get out of those kind of moments.

Entering old Pamplona

Pamplona was a nice stop to get  a good meal (tapas!), but the busy pace of the city and actually seeing someone eye my belongings as if they were going to steal it was a bit overwhelming. I´m not sure if I should work to avoid the bigger cities and opt to stay in smaller villages.  I also haven´t yet figured out a rest plan either.  Should I walk everyday till my body gives out? Take a full day of rest in a larger city? Walk maybe half the day for 10km and rest the remainder of the day at a village inbetween points? I´m still figuring out my physical limits more carefully than I probably ever have before. Getting to know your body on an adventure like this is like the start of a new relationship.  What I found that did help was taking off my hiking shoes and strapping them to my pack for the last hour after I saw on my map that the trail was mostly flat (hooray for minimal map terrain knowledge!). I put on my Tevas sandals.  It resulted in happier feet and I had more energy when we finally reached the hostel where it seemed as though everyone crashed immediately for a midday nap.

On the way to Puente La Reina you walk over the ground where Charlemagne´s forces defeated another army in the 8th century.  The highest point of the day was known as Alto del Perdon, or the Hill of Forgiveness, and the altitude measurements did not make it look too friendly.  I thought it began at this wrought iron monument of medieval pilgrims so I kept walking knowing a huge climb was coming.  When I reached the pilgrim monument, I discovered that I was already at the top of Alto del Perdon and had already achieved the hardest climb of the day.  It was such a relief.  Then of course, there was the downhill part...which my right knee has revealed it isn´t such a big fan of.  I don´t know the background behind the Hill of Forgiveness, but I decided it was forgiving us for such a difficult and steep climb from the first day. I don´t really contemplate about forgiveness too often, but for the majority of the rest of the walk I started to think about the people in my life that I would forgive, or should forgive, and can´t forgive or understand.  I suppose it was an initial glimpse into the aspects of my life that I should let go or sort through to where they don´t bother me as much. I don´t think I´m very good at forgiveness.  I´m shamefully probably better at being the silent grudge and/or runaway type, but maybe today´s walk was a bit of a dent, despite not really reaching any answers.

Tonight I´m staying in a Monastery hostel that I was able to reach by about 1pm. I´ll set off to explore the town soon...particularly to find a US/European adaptor because I think I left mine in Zubiri.  There´s a Romanesque bridge here built at the command of the wife of Sancho III to support the safe movement of medieval pilgrims.  It has six arches that span the Arga river.  It´s amazing to think about the history behind supporting the Camino and the many pilgrims over time.  It makes me miss anyone who has ever supported me in anything I did that I considered great, and showed that they genuinely cared. (Thanks)

--J

Zubiri

Heading to Roncesvalles

Walked with Natasha to Zubiri today from Roncesvalles leaving the hostel at around 7:30am. It was around 23km today and much more relaxing of a walk than yesterday.  The hills weren´t as steep, there wasn´t any rain, and there were villages to stop at in between.

Passing through Burguete, a traditional Navarese village, we see a hotel where Ernest Hemingway used to stay.  Several pilgrims stopped to have breakfast, but we continued on to make the most of our energy and agree to sit for a quick snack later.  At one of our stops I bought a sports drink and an energy drink at this refreshment cart on the side of the road that seemed to be waiting for thirsty pilgrims.  The person running it looked like a traditional Basque man, and though I had to point at everything I wanted to buy, he gave me some chocolate candy as a treat as well.  We sat off to the side in the shade with our shoes off to let our feet breathe as we still had about an hour left in the walk and it would be mostly downhill.

Kittens we found

We decide to stay in Zubiri in a private hostel called Albergue Zaldiko with 8 beds to the room for 10 euro including breakfast. Everyone in our room aside from Natasha speaks Spanish so I smile and say ¨Gracias¨a lot and hope that it´s appropriate enough.  My allergies kick in which means I normally sneeze three times in a row and the man in our room says ¨Salute¨ and asks me what the correct response is in English to a sneeze.  I tell him ¨bless you¨and I have to remind him of this later when he asks again...because I definitely sneeze again. And a lot.

There is also a medieval bridge here called Puente de la Rabia.  Apparently the legend is that leading an animal three times around the arch cures it of rabies.  Not sure when the last time that legend was tested and Natasha always has a laugh when I refer to it as the, ¨rabies bridge¨.

Tomorrow is Pamplona and the end of the Camino for Natasha who has to return to England for work.  I think I´ll spend the day in Pamplona to see what it has to offer as a bigger city in comparison to the other villages along the Camino.  It seems like it would be a nice break even though I´ve just started.

My feet began to ache today a few hours into the day and my hips are rubbing from the weight of my pack.  I´m still hesitant to lighten my load because I am using everything I brought aside from maybe bug spray and nail clippers, which I´m sure will come into use later.  There are so many days left ahead and I´ve decided already that I should do what I can to make the next day easier than the last, whether it´s in my overall attitude or how I adjust my gear.

I may have had my first blister today, but by the late afternoon we were already showered, hand-washed our laundry, and were drinking a beer with our new Canadian and Austrian friends who we hope to see for dinner.

It´s just the second day and I wonder why everyone doesn´t do the Camino.  I´m pretty sure I´ve met both a 17-year-old and a 70-something-year-old.  For some Spaniards, the Camino is a requirement to be on their resume.  For me, a while back, I made it a requirement for my future happiness.  And I hope it works even though my feet and body may not agree.

Weather With You

I made it from St. Jean Pied de Port to Roncesvalles, a 12th century town, in about 8 hours. There was fog (great for hiding the trail!), though we may have just been walking in a cloud. There was sideways rain (not great for a poncho with side openings), a steep 1450m climb within the first few hours(painful), and a steep 25% descent in the last few hours(painful).

I travelled mostly with Natasha from West Sussex, England. The mud slowed us down and the rain/fog made us add a few more layers to keep warm. Our idea for an afternoon picnic at the top turned out not to be the warmest, but we made it in high spirits.

We're staying in The Royal Collegiate Church of Saint Mary with a newly renovated Pilgrim Hostel section. A Canadian friend told me it's much nicer than the last time he was here. It even seemed like there were a few IKEA-esque floorlamps. I later learned that most of the staff are from Holland. The town has less than 100 people and it seems that they're all here to serve the Pilgrims. Supposedly Roncesvalles holds a burial place for pilgrims from medieval times and also for the slaughtered rearguard of Charlemagne's army who were massacred here by the Basques after his army damaged the walls of Pamplona.

We attended mass tonight and there was a special prayer just for everyone that journeyed there that night. They welcomed Pilgrims of all religions and belief systems with open arms. I liked that we were all there together from different backgrounds, but with the same common faith in the Camino we were experiencing.

I started to think about faith and how I embraced it into my life. Though I was raised
Catholic, I don't practice. I like the spirit of faith and the belief in goodness and in the importance of honesty, modesty, gratitude, and patience. I like the idea that someone may be watching over me and I hope they listen when I ask them to look out for the ones I love more than me.

My father once sat me down when I was a teenager and he told me I could be any religion I wanted as long as I was a good person. My brother had recently gone off to University and was going through a transitional period which included his religious beliefs. I never really decided about the religious part, but I was sure about the 'good person' part.

The thing about faith (to me), is how you carry it and take it with you. There were some miserable parts on the Camino today, but we didn't come across anyone who was in low spirits. Everyone smiled at eachother and held their heads high. They continued on as if the sun was shining and a cool breeze followed them with every step. They took their own weather with them, and it flowed through all 27km.

Here on My Own (but not alone)

The load. 10.5kg

Tomorrow we walk around 27km and climb 1450m.  It's the Route de Napoleon and it's one of the longest and most challenging legs of the journey.  Napoleon liked this route for getting his troops in and out of Spain during the Peninsular War.  It's seen as a rite of passage for pilgrims beginning the Camino and though I try to focus on being in Saint Jean Pied de Port and it's medieval picturesque beauty, I can see the steep mountain of the Cize Pass that will make up most of my tomorrow.

Joao asks me in English during a picnic outside the citadelle what my thoughts are on swearing.  I tell him I don't mind and he says in a Scottish/Portuguese accent that he calls the mountain staring down at us, "a bastard hill."

We hope that the Thomason family (father/mother/son), who were on a schedule and didn't decide to stay the night in SJPdP, reach their next point in good weather despite leaving after 11:00 a.m.  Another group decided to charge ahead too.  A 21-person group made up of members from a boy scout troop from Chapel Hill, North Carolina.  It's good to see other Americans on this journey with me.

St. Pancras Train Station, London

The top three questions of the day are: What's your name, Where are you from, and Why are you doing this?

It's the least competitive atmosphere you can imagine.  People just want to walk and talk to others.  Natasha from England only has enough time to go to Pamplona.  Gra--(complicated Polish name) is also here on her own and I've only been able to speak to her through translation, but she's greeted me warmly throughout the whole day.  Gra was impressed and surprised at how different everyone was, especially in age.  I think she thought I was a lot younger than I actually am, but I suppose the lack of makeup, messy pony tale, and my favorite gray street hat from the Gap doesn't help.

The Thomason's in SJPdP

I always want to reflect on the best and worst things that happened to me on my days as I go on.  The best was enjoying how warm and open hearted everyone seems right from the beginning despite the language and cultural barriers.  It doesn't seem like the rest of the world follows suit.  Then again, there are still a lot of steps, pain and reflection ahead.

The worst might be the exhaustion of the overnight journey here and the long train ride from Paris.  The ticket office in Bayonne wasn't open and I needed to buy a ticket to SJPdP.  The ticket machines only took credit cards with a chip (normal for Europe, not for America), and only one machine would take Euro coins only, but didn't have an English option.  I had to ask two different counters to change my Euro notes to coins to use the machine, after I asked someone to translate the machine for me. Lessons learned: Two years of French when I was 15 and 16 years old was not enough, and carry more coins than notes on the Camino.

Registering to get my Pilgrim Passport 

Some people have really mapped out their journey, almost point to point, and are familiar with where they're going to stay at the end of the different legs (some even made reservations!).  For me, I decided I would just get here and go with the flow and hope for the best--which looking back doesn't really seem like something I would do, but is more of something I've developed over the last year or so.

Travelers, rather than tourists, everyone here is on a personal journey, but we're definitely not alone.

--J

Camino de Santiago/The Way of St. James

Here is a brief description of the Camino and a few excerpts from all my research (I heart Google & Wikipedia), including my guidebook written by John Brierley.

The Camino de Santiago describes an ancient path leading to Santiago de Compostela featuring over 1,800 buildings of historic interest.  It was inscribed as a World Heritage Site by UNESCO in 1993 and is one of the most popular Christian pilgrimages in the world.  The first written record of a pilgrimage to Santiago was when Bishop Gotescalco journeyed there in 950. Later the pilgrimage gained further importance between the 12th and 14th centuries and has continued to do so etver since.  Legend holds that St. James's remains were brought from Jerusalem via boat to Spain where he is buried at the city of Santiago de Compostela.

A scallop shell, or concha, has survived as the single identifying symbol of the pilgrim to Santiago, and today this symbol helps to mark trails along the way and is worn on the gear of modern pilgrims. In the past, the number of pilgrims walking the routes has continued to increase every year with an estimate of over 270,000 pilgrims from all over the world walking in 2010.

There are several routes to Santiago, and for my Camino, I'll be taking the most common route known as the Camino Frances starting in France in St. Jean Pied de Port and is about 790km or 490 miles.  Once in Santiago, I'll decide if I'll continue another 90km to Finisterre, which was once thought of as the 'edge of the world',  to see the Atlantic.

Generally, it should look something like this:

Although there is a great religious aspect to this pilgrimage, people go for several different reasons, whether it's their gap year, holiday from work, or they're at an impasse in their life--much like myself. I booked a one-way ticket, and though I have a general idea of when I want to be back, I wanted to leave this as open-ended as I could.

There are lot of different reasons why I've chosen to do this. There's the physical aspect (oh how losing 10-15 lbs. would be awesome, 15 miles a day is the most I've ever hiked), and there's a spiritual aspect (having faith in your fellow stranger, belief in yourself to continue on), and more significantly the personal aspect.

Personally, before I set off, I knew I had to tell as many people as possible that I was going to take on this adventure.  Telling people makes it more real, not that I have anything to prove, but I needed that extra push from people around me to do something great when my inner-voice starts to waver.  Every time someone became excited for me and told me that it was something they wished they could do, it encouraged me even further.  I want people to know that they can do it--and hopefully they do.

Chris Guillebeau wrote that the word 'realistic' is an adjective of cynics used to criticize and justify things that seem unreachable.  But some of these 'things' are actually 'dreams', and dreams can be followed just as much as they can be believed in.  It seems as though whenever something negative and grown-up happens that causes some sort of set-back, you hear someone speak the phrase, "Welcome to the real world." It's as if the so-called realities of the world were filled with insurmountable obstacles and utter disappointment rather than being anything worth looking forward to.

When I was 16 or 17, I met Arizona Police Officer Jason Schechterle who was burned beyond recognition and nearly to death in the line of duty.  In a speech he gave that day, he said, "Every set-back is a set-up for a come-back," and he announced that he would soon be back to work and that he and his wife were expecting a child. Almost ten years later, I've never forgotten how I felt at that moment and how I wished that someone would use this combination of simple words toward me when I was feeling down.

Walking the camino wasn't exactly one of my dreams, but I think it's the start of one, or maybe several.  It's not a holiday for me (I mean I'm going by myself!), and it's not tied to any specific religious reasons.  I feel like it's the start of something that I haven't figured out yet, and I'm hoping that part of it will be revealed to me along the way.  I'm hoping that with this and with whatever comes after, I'll be more at peace with the 'set-backs' that still weigh heavily on me, and that I'll be on my way to a 'come-back', or more so, closer to being the person I want to be.


---J

Sometimes the road is ours.

Not often. Just sometimes. 

April 2011 is when I figured I would be as close as I could get to making the road mine.  So I decided that I was going to change my life through a series of one-way tickets, my knowledge of frequent traveler miles, and the money I had been saving for over a year.  Oh and also quitting the good ol' J-O-B. 

I de-cluttered my life by selling and donating everything.  The only things I kept that are now in storage were either purely sentimental (high school yearbooks) or essentially useful in the long-term (clothes that won't go out of style, obviously). With two checked pieces of luggage (my Taylor guitar and a rolling suitcase crammed to the max), and two pieces to carry on the plane (a large shoulder bag and a hiking backpack, I left in April for some European traveling. Up until this point I had only really been to seven countries I think...and at least four were work related. 

I've never had this much free time before in my life. I've never been able to travel this much before in my life, and I've never had a lot of the things I have now in 2011 that I still haven't decided yet if they make up for everything I lost in 2010.  There are some things I'm discovering about myself that I never really knew before (I really like cooking and I'm not that bad!) and other things I already knew, but never really could embrace (I love sleeping in and having afternoon naps, money sure does help happiness). 

Either way, I was able to book a flight to London Heathrow with only a couple weeks in advance prior to the Royal Wedding and pay only around $300.  The best frequent flyer mileage benefit I've managed that saved me over $1000. 

There are a few sources I have to give some credit to in regards to how I am where I am today.  

The first is a book I finished in record time titled The Art of Non-Conformity: Set Your Own Rules, Live the Life You Want, and Change the World by Chris Guillebeau. He's currently on a journey of visiting every country in the world, and has so far reached over 150 of them along with every state in the U.S.,  while also developing a series of Unconventional Guides that help unconventional people achieve remarkable things and not be afraid to. 

The second is another book that I've recently finished titled The Happiness Project: Or, Why I Spent a Year Trying to Sing in the Morning, Clean My Closets, Fight Right, Read Aristotle, and Generally Have More Fun by Gretchen Rubin.  Gretchen left a career in law to be a writer and I came across this book because I thought the concept was interesting. Also at the time I was a bit sad with some of the things that life threw at me, so I figured this book wouldn't hurt.  After reading through the initial chapters, I didn't think I'd find it as amusing as I did, or actually relate to some of her ideas and stories despite having a life so different from hers.  Her book actually offered a lot of insight into aspects of my life I had actually forgot about, like things that used to make me happy that I just didn't do anymore, and how even though it's nice to belong, just because something is fun for people around you, it doesn't mean that it's fun for you.

The third source is my friend Kate.  I think I met her in the 5th grade when she moved to the same town I lived in.  We ended up in the same group of friends, later at the same high school, on the same soccer team (in fact she was my carpool and I think actually asked if I wanted to join the team), and then we kind of parted ways the way kids do when they go off to different universities.  With the development of Facebook, who we all have a love/hate relationship with, I discovered that she took off on the Camino de Santiago and kept everyone updated with a blog. Years later, we're both randomly in Hawaii and I need a place to stay while I'm getting ready for my life's biggest transition and packing things to move. Kate reads my desperate plea on Facebook for someone to temporarily house me and offers me a spare bedroom.  I tell her about how I found her blog, how I thought it was amazing, and that it was something I was dying to do once the time was right.

And well....I'm leaving tomorrow for it.

Wish me luck!

--J