June 12, 2015
These last few days on the Camino have brought us through fairy tale forests reminiscent of the Brothers Grimm. Particularly grim are the “line-ups” to get into albergues where your backpack waits in the queue for you like a short stout pilgrim avatar with straps.
I find myself turning inward these days, as much in response to the nearness of Santiago as my aversion to the crowds. I talk to Camino Julie of faith, and belief, and God, without which the Camino is just another walk, albeit a pretty damn long one with excellent churros.
I don’t even feel like it is an accomplishment, walking these 800 km in my dusty broken down boots. Beating an addiction, raising children as a single parent, these are accomplishments. Losing people so very deeply loved and still beaming your million dollar smile in your gorgeous daughter’s prom pictures. This is an accomplishment. It even borders on grace.
I started the Camino because I thought it would be an adventure, a rite of passage, a walk with God. When I end it tomorrow it will be meaningful to me, but I will know it for what it really is.
A gift.
13th Century Cross with Christ in Majesty on one side..
…and Christ crucified on the other
