I thanked him and declined, saying I just needed to get back to the Camino, but he shook his head and said that I was brought to him by the Camino for a reason and should stop and rest. Seeing the light in his clear dark eyes, I knew that it was true. So I took off Pilgrim, set my poles down, and sat at the table.
He prepared a very strong coffee for me and then said, “Antonio, your brother, brought you here.”
My heart lurched when I heard that. “He wanted you to come because he wanted you to know he is happy you are here on the Camino.”
My eyes filled with tears hearing this. There was no way this man knew about my brother or his name, and yet it was the first thing he said to me. He continued, “Antonio is helping you with your worries and wants you to know this. He also wants you to know he is with your father and very happy.”
I was so surprised to be hearing this from him that I was speechless. Then he said, “Please enter my meditation sanctuary.” Then he walked me from the kitchen to an incredible meditation room, with gorgeous works of art that he had made out of crystals and stones all over the walls.
“This is a healing room,” the man said. “Please relax and allow the earth to heal your body and heart. Stay as long as you want.” Then he left.
I sat down, feeling a bit stunned that I had been brought here by my brother. I could feel his presence and knew it was true because my brother had loved stones all of his life. I could also feel how happy he was to be here with me at this moment.
I heard my brother singing, “May the good Lord shine a light on you,” and felt his love surround me.
I sat and prayed for some time, reflecting on what a powerful day it had been so far, and thanked God and all my guides, and especially my brother for bringing me here.
Eventually I walked back to the kitchen, where the man told me he was a shaman and wanted to give me my animal totem. With that he pulled out a deck of very old, worn cards wrapped in some sort of animal skin, and put them before me, asking me to shuffle, which I did. He then asked me to pull a card. The one I pulled was of a spider. He smiled and told me that my feminine self was whole and healed now. I no longer needed to be a warrior and it was time to be creative and be at home in my spirit.
“Walk with spider wherever you go,” he said. “She is the protector of your spirit. She is your helper.”
He then said, “Peregrina, as you are walking home on this Camino, your brother is walking with you.”
I just cried and cried when I heard this. It was true. I had run away when I was younger. Now I was walking back home.
He put the cards away and then gave me a beautiful raw crystal, saying that the Camino’s wisdom and power would go with me in this crystal because it was from this mountain we were on.
I put it in Pilgrim and thanked him with a big hug.
He said, “Go in peace. All is well. Buen Camino.”
I believed him.
I walked out his door and started walking, failing to ask him which way to go to get back on the Camino. Ten minutes later I came to the same fork in the road I had seen earlier, only this time there was a huge yellow arrow clearly pointing the way.
Two hours later, I arrived in Sarria.
Day 30
(23 km; 14 mi)
Sarria to Portomarín
The next morning I got off to a somewhat late start. I woke up and had a delicious breakfast and two great cups of café con leche before I set out. I then went back to my room and packed up Cheater. I left him with the front desk and got my passport stamped at around 9:30. I put it in my little purse strapped around my neck, then stepped outside. Right across from the hostel was a gift shop and, being a shopper, I was immediately drawn inside. There I found Camino tchotchkes of all sorts, including walking sticks, ponchos, postcards, St. James crosses, pens, notebooks with yellow Camino arrows and blue and yellow Camino shells, and more. I decided to get a few small mementos for my daughters, knowing as I purchased them that they wouldn’t hold any significance for them and I was wasting my money. Still, I had to have them. This journey would soon be over and maybe this was my feeble attempt to hang on to the Camino magic a little longer.
Then I walked farther into town and was surprised by how charming it was. I had missed this last night, as I had stayed close to my hostel and hadn’t ventured out to have a look around.
I started taking photos of the beautiful church before me when I met a guy from Ireland named Allen, a chatty fellow, who had just arrived and was just setting out on his first day. He was traveling with a friend named Johnny, and was excited to get under way. They were as different as night and day. Allen was outgoing and chatty, while Jimmy was dark and surly and barely said “Hello.”
Allen offered to take a few photos of me in front of the Church of Santa Marina, a huge edifice with a Gothic feel, and I returned the favor. Afterward, we chatted for a minute and I gave him lots of encouragement and wished him a “Buen Camino.”
Before leaving town, I stopped in the church, which was now open because I had lingered so long taking photos. I said a quick rosary, looked around, and then got another pilgrim’s stamp in my passport from a woman in the back of the church who took her stamping job very seriously.
Once that was done, I headed out of town and was about 15 minutes into my walk when I realized I had only one PowerBar and no money. So I turned around and went back into town to find a cash station. By the time I did that and got under way yet again, it was almost 11:30 in the morning.
Still, it was a bright, sunny day, and I felt no need to rush. My mind and heart were happy and all I wanted to do was sing. So I did. For hours and hours.
Eventually I came upon a man who was sitting by a tree with a sign that said “Free fruit.” It looked good, so I stopped and asked if I could have an orange. He was so friendly and happy to offer it to me that I felt blessed.
I noticed that he had a guitar right next to him, so I asked if he would play and sing a song. He turned bright red and said he was shy, but with a little encouragement he finally agreed. At first he sang so quietly I could barely hear him, but I heartily applauded anyway and thanked him profusely. It seemed to be all that he needed because after that he started playing and singing louder and louder until he was singing at full volume, song after song. Before I knew it I had just been given a 30-minute private concert.
“Wow! Thank you. That was beautiful,” I said. And it was. Beaming, he laughed. Thanking him once again for his lovely song, I asked him what his name was.
He smiled and said, “Patrick.”
Of course it is, I thought, shaking my head. Wow Camino, are you making sure I don’t forget about someone?
We laughed and hugged, and then he stood up to give me a gift, just like the shaman had yesterday. He reached into his bag, which was hanging on a tree branch, and handed me a wooden cross that he had carved himself. I tried to give him money for it, but he refused. “It is a present from the Camino because you bring joy to my day,” he said.
I graciously accepted it and after he wished me a “Buen Camino,” I was once again on my way. Soon I came across a café and stopped for lunch. There were so many pilgrims sitting there it was shocking. I wondered where they had all come from since not one had passed while Camino Patrick #2 was serenading me.
I was now convinced that the Camino was a magical vortex where multiple realities were going on at the same time. Either that or a bus just dropped the entire crowd off across the street right before I arrived. I ordered a Coke and a tortilla, made of eggs and potatoes. I was down to my last days now and I hadn’t eaten much of anything besides egg sandwiches and octopus, and lots of pork and potatoes. It was time to spread my wings a little and sample some new things for a change.
Minutes after I sat down, I saw Allen and Johnny from this morning rambling up the path, both looking pretty challenged. Huffing and puffing, they nearly flopped down on the ground as they walked into the garden area of the café.
I remembered h
ow I had felt the first day after walking over the Pyrenees and how torturous it was. I had compassion for them. It isn’t easy to do this, especially if you are not used to walking this far.
We chatted a bit, but not for long, as they ran into some other pilgrims they had evidently met along the way, so I was left to my peace once again. My tortilla was brought to the table where I was sitting, so I was able to relax and watch the crowd as I lingered over lunch.
My feet were so sore I wondered if I would have to do something drastic to heal them when I got home. I decided just to ask God to heal them and trust it would happen as soon as I stopped beating them to death on a daily basis.
After lunch I got back on my way, grateful I’d had the good sense to get money before I set out. My PowerBar was long gone, and I am sure I could have eaten another tortilla and an egg bocadillo had I the time.
The path twisted and turned, went into the woods, followed the road, went up and down hills, and eventually came to a huge river. Walking across it with speeding traffic alongside me was a little nerve-racking, as I do not like heights and the drop down to the river was very long. The wind was blowing so hard directly in my face that at times I feared I would lose my balance and topple over the low guardrail into the water below. I seriously considered dropping to my knees and crawling across.
Concentrate, Sonia, I told myself. Stop thinking about falling into the river. You’re just freaking yourself out unnecessarily. You are safe and will get to the other side.
I just kept walking, my head down and my feet forward, taking one focused step at a time while looking away from the guardrail. It seemed to take an eternity to get all the way across, but in reality, it was only five minutes.
Finally, I made it. Whew! I felt as though I had really dodged a bullet on that one. Except the truth is I was never really in danger. My mind was just messing with me.
Safely back on solid ground, I looked up. Right before me was a steep, high, wide staircase leading to the city above, and at the top was Clint, sitting peacefully and waving down to me. I hadn’t noticed him before. I was glad I hadn’t crawled across the bridge now. I would have been so embarrassed to have had a witness to that.
I waved back and starting climbing up. It seemed a bit much of the Camino to ask pilgrims to make that steep climb after walking all day, and especially across that bridge, but then again, we were burning off our sins. Maybe we pilgrims needed this extra effort to make sure our karmic slates would be completely clean by the time we arrived in Santiago a few days from now.
Huffing and puffing, I finally made it to the top and plopped myself down next to Clint. “Waiting for Dean?” I asked.
“Yes, have you seen him?”
“He’s not that far behind. I saw him not too long ago with his shoes off, smoking a cigarette.”
“I just love that guy,” Clint said, and I knew he meant it. Bonding on the Camino had to have been special, as it strips away all that is artificial and ego-centered and leaves you only in the vibration of the heart. At least it has the potential to if you come at it with the intention to move in that spiritual direction.
“I’m happy you found such a great friend, Clint. Our relationships are the most important thing in the end, aren’t they?”
“That’s for sure!” he answered.
I then got up and wished him a “Buen Camino.” I turned to look at the river one more time and saw Dean waving and approaching fast, as at ease as ever.
I wandered another half a kilometer into town and came straight to the town’s church. I walked inside and said a prayer of thanksgiving for having had yet another glorious day on the Camino. I hadn’t felt any anger or upset or fear or resentment from my ego for days now. I was peaceful and happy to be me and ready to face anything life brought to my door with love and compassion for all involved. What a miracle that was.
After I left the church I walked out onto a plaza lined with cafés and saw Camino Patrick #1 sitting right in front of me, a cold beer in his hand and a big smile on his face.
I immediately walked over and joined him. “Patrick, I’m so happy to see you!”
We laughed, and I ordered a large, cold beer mixed with lemonade and sat down next to him. Patrick asked how my day was, and I started to tell him about it, when I stopped. The minute I tried to explain all the wonderful things that I’d experienced, they seemed to lose some of their magic and I didn’t want that to happen.
I quickly summed it up by saying, “It was a Camino kind of day.”
He smiled and said, “I understand. Enough said.”
We sat and relaxed, mostly in silence, as we were both too tired to talk at the moment, sipping our beers and watching other pilgrims show up. After a while we got up and went our separate ways. I had a pilgrim dinner waiting for me at the hostel and he had made plans to have dinner with some other pilgrims from the albergue where he was staying. We hugged and wished each other a “Buen Camino,” and dragged our tuckered-out selves back to our respective spots for the night.
As I was falling asleep, I reflected on all that had happened to me since I began this awesome journey a few weeks ago. I came so broken and wounded, and now I was feeling strong and more peaceful with each passing day. I was even feeling deeply happy. The Camino was healing me.
Day 31
(23 km; 14 mi)
Portomarín to Palas de Rei
I woke up feeling like a little kid. My heart was happy and I was eager to start the day. The sun was shining brightly and everything was so green it seemed like the height of summer, save for the still fairly cool air outside. I took my time getting out of bed and out the door because I knew I was down to the last four days on the Camino, and I wanted to savor every minute.
At breakfast I ran into Allen and Johnny, who were apparently arguing over something. I smiled and left them alone. They acknowledged me but didn’t seem to want to interrupt their conversation to say good morning.
That was fine with me. More now than ever I wanted to remain in silence as much as possible, not wanting to miss any bit of insight that might come through while I was in this clear and calm inner state.
After breakfast I left Cheater with the front desk, got a stamp for my passport, and headed out. Following the yellow arrows, I wound through town, then followed the path from the center of town at the top of the hill back down to the river, and on from there.
This part of the river was neither as wide nor as windy as yesterday’s crossing, for which I was grateful, as I wasn’t ready to be freaked out again so early in the morning.
Once across and on my way, I was in pure bliss. I was mesmerized as the Camino led me into a deep green forest that spilled out into several small farms. Gentle mist danced through the trees, and wildflowers exploded everywhere, filling the air with an interesting and very strong mixed fragrance of cow dung and rose petals that was so powerful that even I could smell it. Birds were singing in the trees, and bees were swarming around the flowers. Cows were grazing, farmers were working, and nature was in full bloom. Everything felt so alive, including me.
The walk starting winding uphill again about an hour after I began, and at times it was quite steep. I took my time and used my poles to support my feet and my knee, as they were both starting to hurt a lot.
Today I noticed more pilgrims on the path than in all the weeks before combined. It felt at times as though I were on the Camino 500, with groups, some as large as 10 or 15, flocking all around, leaving my private Camino a thing of the past.
I was warned this would happen, as many people chose to walk only the last 100 kilometers of the Camino. That was the minimum distance you needed to walk in order to get the Compostela, or the certificate of completion of the Santiago pilgrimage, and be granted a plenary indulgence, or forgiveness of the past, by the Catholic Church.
It took extra focus on my part to stay centered and remain undisturbed by this sudden shift in the Camino energy. I didn’t want the crowds to take away from my inn
er peace. I decided this was just another opportunity to prepare for reentering life after the Camino, where life would be as demanding and intense for me as it ever was. Maintaining my inner peace through the crowds here was good practice for life back home.
The path was very muddy, no doubt from all the rain over the past few weeks, and at times it was more like gum than anything else. It reminded me of the muck I had to fight my way through in the Pyrenees way back in the beginning, leaving me with the sense of coming full circle. I figured it was just a reminder for me not to get stuck in the mud—not here, nor in my life.
A little farther on, the air smelled so strongly of acrid cow dung it almost knocked me out. How can these people stand this smell? I wondered. Do they even smell it all anymore, or is it such a part of their lives that it doesn’t bother them at all?
I knew that fertilizer was necessary to help everything on these farms grow, which led me to see it, too, as a metaphor. I guess I have to view the past pain and suffering in my life as the fertilizer I needed to help me grow, as well, I decided.
I was grateful for it all and would not have wanted my life to be any other way. Everything that had transpired in my past life brought me here, to this beautiful and peaceful point in my being, and without life unfolding as it had, I wouldn’t be here at all, inside or out. Looking around, I couldn’t imagine missing this experience for the entire world and was grateful for everyone and everything that made this possible, including the deaths of my father and brother, and my split from Patrick.
I happened upon such an inviting tree stump that I didn’t want to pass it up and sat down. As I did, I looked at Pilgrim. Inside I had been carrying my lightweight shoes as well as my Tevas every day, just in case I needed to take my boots off, but every time I tried to walk in either pair, the pain along the sides of my feet became so severe I just couldn’t do it.
Walking Home: A Pilgrimage from Humbled to Healed Page 31
