(Sunday, October 13, Madrid, Spain) Okay. I’ve kind of been lying for the past couple of days. Well, maybe not outright lying. Let’s just say i was putting a positive spin on things. In reality, the Camino was not meant for me. Or, put another way, I was not meant for the Camino.
I was certain I could find the peace and fulfillment that so many others seem to find in challenges presented by its long walks, pulled muscles, blisters, heavy winds and rain. And I thought I needed to travel across the Atlantic to discover that inner whatever.
But lo and behold, I’m not like everyone else. This had been a dream of mine for decades. And I failed. Miserably. Yesterday I left the Camino early for the solace of a nice hotel in a big city to find the grace to forgive myself for quitting. I mentioned in an earlier post that one of the qualities I was seeking was the ability to give grace. Little did I know I would need to extend it to myself which I think that may be even more difficult than giving it to others. This is indeed a hard pill to swallow.
You may ask “what happened?” I was still asking that of myself as I sat in the tiny airport in Vigo, Spain waiting for the next flight to Madrid. So, let me see if I can succinctly sort thru this.
Days one and two - some sunshine, lots of rain, excruciating pain in my leg for the last 3 miles and realizing this is not a team sport. I was essentially walking all alone in the rearview mirror of my travel partners. (It’s not their fault I am the tortoise and they are the hare(s).) Days three, four and five - cabbing it while others walk because my leg still does not work up to par. The outlook for the remaining 8 days was bleak I would rather be someplace else … actually, any place else.
As I waited to board my run-away flight, I met two sisters from Boston who are my age and just came off the Camino. They were a godsend. As we talked about our respective experiences, they reminded me that the Camino provides and my Camino presented me with the gift of taking a week of spontaneity to travel Europe on my own, go wherever I want. (This too is also a long held dream of mine and fodder for an entirely new blog.)
So here I am in Madrid. Today I will shop its famous el Rastro, just a 5-minute walk from my hotel, sans climbing, rain, pulled ligaments and blisters. And I have a ticket to visit Museo del Prado. Tomorrow? Wait and see.
Lesson learned? Life is a Camino and we each have our own paths to take. Buon Camino — whatever yours happens to be.