The biggest room in the world is the room for improvement.
- Lou Holtz
Today on the Camino I walked from Boadilla to Carrion de los Condes, and covered 26 km, 16.2 miles, and 38,920 steps. There was no rain again today, and the weather continues to have a southern California sort of feel to it. I'm certainly not complaining, since it did indeed rain 16 out of the last 17 days I spent at home in WV before leaving to walk the Camino.
As you'll see from the photos, I went for a bit of a higher octane breakfast today with a cafe con leche, huevos con jambon, y pan. The ham was outstanding, and the bread and eggs were tasty as well.
For the most part, I hiked alone today along a path that ran parallel to a stream and then later on an easy flowing river. The only exception to my solitude was a 30 minute conversation I had with a retired Austrian man. He said he preferred to walk alone on the Camino, and he was convinced that the trails in his native country were much nicer than what he'd experienced in Spain.
I didn't mind the solitude at all, and I actually used most of the day to focus on one of the emotional baggage items (I've chosen 3 for my Camino) that I'd decided to work through. On the Camino, it is a tradition to carry a stone in your bag to represent some emotional/spiritual/psychological issue that you want to address and leave behind. Not everyone chooses to do this, but many pilgrims do. I had actually left some physical baggage (my favorite shorts and a pair of underwear) behind the day before somewhere on the trail. I think the items must have fallen out of my bag while I was walking yesterday.
In any case, I decided to really focus in on the loss of my dad today. Just a month before my third birthday, my father was killed by a drunk driver while on his morning commute to his new job. He was only 21. I don't have many memories of him, so I've tried to get to know him better by listening to stories about him and the positive impact he had on people, holding on to some of his personal items like pictures of us together, his degree, class ring, etc... I've also tried to learn about him by spending time with my two amazing uncles Richard and David. Today, I spent time consciously reflecting on his short life, and the impact his early passing has had on my life. Essentially, at age 45 I stood beside a clear running stream today all alone on the Spanish Camino, and cast a stone of grief for my father into the gentle stream. It represented an acknowledgement of his life and the expression of my grief over losing him. I had a good cry and felt like I'd done something very important for me. After wiping away my tears, I resumed my journey...determined not to leave any more underwear and socks behind!
Hope you enjoy the pics from this stage. You can see the small stone and stream that I mentioned above.
Lights out.
- Lou Holtz
Today on the Camino I walked from Boadilla to Carrion de los Condes, and covered 26 km, 16.2 miles, and 38,920 steps. There was no rain again today, and the weather continues to have a southern California sort of feel to it. I'm certainly not complaining, since it did indeed rain 16 out of the last 17 days I spent at home in WV before leaving to walk the Camino.
As you'll see from the photos, I went for a bit of a higher octane breakfast today with a cafe con leche, huevos con jambon, y pan. The ham was outstanding, and the bread and eggs were tasty as well.
For the most part, I hiked alone today along a path that ran parallel to a stream and then later on an easy flowing river. The only exception to my solitude was a 30 minute conversation I had with a retired Austrian man. He said he preferred to walk alone on the Camino, and he was convinced that the trails in his native country were much nicer than what he'd experienced in Spain.
I didn't mind the solitude at all, and I actually used most of the day to focus on one of the emotional baggage items (I've chosen 3 for my Camino) that I'd decided to work through. On the Camino, it is a tradition to carry a stone in your bag to represent some emotional/spiritual/psychological issue that you want to address and leave behind. Not everyone chooses to do this, but many pilgrims do. I had actually left some physical baggage (my favorite shorts and a pair of underwear) behind the day before somewhere on the trail. I think the items must have fallen out of my bag while I was walking yesterday.
In any case, I decided to really focus in on the loss of my dad today. Just a month before my third birthday, my father was killed by a drunk driver while on his morning commute to his new job. He was only 21. I don't have many memories of him, so I've tried to get to know him better by listening to stories about him and the positive impact he had on people, holding on to some of his personal items like pictures of us together, his degree, class ring, etc... I've also tried to learn about him by spending time with my two amazing uncles Richard and David. Today, I spent time consciously reflecting on his short life, and the impact his early passing has had on my life. Essentially, at age 45 I stood beside a clear running stream today all alone on the Spanish Camino, and cast a stone of grief for my father into the gentle stream. It represented an acknowledgement of his life and the expression of my grief over losing him. I had a good cry and felt like I'd done something very important for me. After wiping away my tears, I resumed my journey...determined not to leave any more underwear and socks behind!
Hope you enjoy the pics from this stage. You can see the small stone and stream that I mentioned above.
Lights out.
1 comment:
Grief changes us. The pain sculpts us into someone who understands more deeply, hurts more often, appreciates more quickly, cries more easily, hopes more desperately, loves more openly.
I walked a mile with Pleasure.
She chattered all the way.
But left me none the wiser
For all she had to say.
I walked a mile with Sorrow,
And ne'er a word said she;
But oh, the things
I learned from her
When Sorrow walked with me.
~ Robert Browning
Has been nice to share in your journey.
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