In my lifetime, I haven't scaled any mountains with names worth remembering, or survived on a deserted island. I'm not sure that I even consider myself an enthusiastic and self-sufficient outdoors-woman.
When I was young, my family drove across the United States from Florida to Alaska, but I can barely recall anything aside from the details of the interior of our family van, and how excited I was to drive through Canada just because it was my first "other country".
I'm not a triathlete or a millionaire or have a job that makes me feel important. I'm not an adventurous thrill-seeking daredevil and I think anything that I've done that could come close to that category was by accident or default. I'm not a lot of things.
But I did walk across Spain, from France, through the Pyrenees, and to the cathedral in Santiago neither by default or accidentally. And I think a lot could be said about that.
When I didn't know how I'd feel through it all, after looking back I know I felt all the highs and lows I didn't expect to. I made friends where I didn't think I would, and I walked further and took other routes than I had planned. I learned how to survive my doubts and fears a little better, and more importantly, I just feel better about myself and life in general. And it's really what I wanted most.
It would have been a beautiful morning to walk to the Cathedral in Santiago at sunrise, but the clouds and rain and overall grayness had continued to follow us the way it had been the entire week. Still, there was a clear skip in our steps and we were filled with immense excitement as we crossed into the outskirts of Santiago and headed towards the center. There was an obvious commercial aspect to walking through the city. An overwhelming amount of pilgrim souvenir shops stood amongst the sea of albergues, hotels and restaurants with varying ways of attaching "peregrino" to their names.
I considered how the institution of the Camino de Santiago extended commercially past the journey to the resting place of St. James, but to me I didn't really think it deterred from the experience of finishing such a long trek.
After receiving my Compostella, I went to explore the Cathedral. Between the traditional embracing of the statue St. James, seeing his tomb, and sitting through mass held in a language I didn't understand, I was able to peacefully forget the menial Camino things that bothered me. I didn't think about the lines I had to wait in for the bathroom or to pay my bill, I forgot about the unpleasant people I met, the not-so-great or not-so-hygienic hostel experiences, and the damage to my body that I hope will heal.
Some people say that going through the Camino experience has a way of transforming you. There's this line in a song by The Avett Brothers called "The Perfect Space" that goes:
"I want to have friends, that I can trust
That love me for the man I've become, not the man that I was
And I want to have friends, that let me be
All alone when being alone is all that I need"
It makes me consider who I was, am, and will be. I wonder the same for others I have met too. There were times when we walked together, broke off to walk alone, and took things in stride to have the Camino we needed. There were times when we had to remind each other why we were here or had to be the positive attitude that someone else needed.
Being on the Camino sometimes felt like that clean slate feeling of starting your first year in high school or university. You have a new pool of people to be surrounded by and you can re-invent yourself, be a stranger, be the same, or run away from what you used to be. You wonder about how much your past matters, and if you'll still be accepted by older friends if you're too different, or by new friends if they knew who you were before. Sometimes I've felt like I'm running away, and other times I felt like I'm merely searching for the next direction worth running to.
Over a month ago, Santiago was that direction for me. And now I have well worn in shoes, aches and pains that I can neither explain or will go away, and strength that can only come from walking great distances for the past month. It was a much needed break even though at times it didn't seem like one. And sometimes you have to choose to take that abrupt break from life and leave everything you know to walk across a country. I don't think there are many equivalent experiences to that sort of thing.As far as directions go from here, I'm headed to Finisterra/Fisterra next and will pass through Muxia. Finisterra was once considered the end of the world, and to end my walking journey I want to walk to the Atlantic and see the sun set into the ocean.
"I want to fit in
To the perfect space
To feel natural and safe
In a volatile place"
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