in transit

As i started this entry, I was in the airport in Lisbon on my way to see good friends before the final leg home, drinking my 1st Starbucks in over 2 weeks. The coffee was too strong and the cookie slightly stale, but it felt like home, which really is one of my favorite parts of going away. 

I was told, " the Camino will carry you," and that was certainly true as I got up day after day to pound out 8, 13 or 15 miles.  But I will say that I was tired the final 2 days, facing each steep hill with, "Really?!" When I was getting the MRI at the beginning of my breast cancer diagnosis,  I was given a painted rock that says, "You are stronger than you think." It proved true then in the emotional department,  and true physically these last 2 weeks, much of which consisted of technical paths (steep, rocky, wet with rain). One foot in front of the other, stopping to catch my breath as needed.

No one ever did recognize the AA patch on my backpack, though near the end of the journey,  one of my new companions asked why I don't drink. I gave the very condensed version of my story, only to learn that her father and uncle died as the result of alcoholism.  We are everywhere,  directly or indirectly, in recovery or far from it. 

I'm not sure of your experience,  but once learning I'm sober, people ask if I'm bothered that they order a drink. I can appreciate their sensitivity,  but no. I truly have reached that place of neutrality, at least for today. And I do understand that lifting of the compulsion is a gift denied many. 

Stopping in DC to visit good friends,  I also had the opportunity to connect with a couple of other friends from my online groups and to attend an in-person meeting. I love connections over the years and over the miles. I went to treatment to get the heat off and stop hurting, with absolutely no idea that I'd end up with lifelong friends, an education, a career I enjoyed, a strong marriage - essentially the "keys of the kingdom."

And now, re-entry, as I do my best to remain mindful of Camino energy, taking each day as it comes. I see some inventory in my future as I further process all that occurred these past few weeks, continuing to ask myself, "Are you a tourist or a pilgrim?" 

How would describe the gifts of recovery,  your keys of the kingdom? Have there been times that "You are stronger than you think" has played out in your life? How do the tools of recovery help you remember that?

flexibility

Here I am with now two more days of walking followed by three nights in Santiago before heading back to the US. It has definitely been an adventure of putting one foot in front of the other with some fun and inspiring conversations along the way with people I will likely never see again. I am grateful for this common bond, however temporary.

I am the kind of person who likes to know the lessons of life while I am still in the middle of class. Years ago, when applying for my Master's program, the advisor said that many schools will give you a set plan but their idea was to give the individual a map to find our own way. That is kind of like the Camino, although we do have specific instructions which may or may not be factual, as a couple of times we've ended up on a tougher, hillier path than expected. Oh well, here we are today. Before leaving home, I realized part of my lessons had to do with trust, as in trust myself, and trust the planning. Along the way,  I've come to understand my state of mind is about surrendering to the moment, whether raining or hot, power outage or hungry - whatever the day may bring. For me, also, a lesson has been around flexibility. On Saturday,  with a long 18 miler planned and rain in the forecast, we decided to skip the walk and take transport to the next town. A friend asked, "Isn't that cheating?" but it really is "your Camino,  your way." There is a requirement that one must walk the last 100 km into Santiago to earn the official completion certificate, and that is the plan, one step at a time. 

We plan, and the gods laugh, with my companion falling over the weekend, cutting their Camino short. One just never knows. I have now had a ride in the back of an ambulance for the 1st time, and have seen the workings of a Spanish ER, grateful for kindness and good care. The gods laugh, indeed as this turn of events was certainly not anticipated. 

And the beat goes on. After discussion, it was decided I would carry on, completing in spirit for both of us. Me, who loves adventure but rarely, rarely travels alone, now on my own, fears of getting lost swirling in my brain. But, as Mr Rogers would've said, "Look for the helpers." A conversation at breakfast resulted in my being invited to tag along with a group of delightful folks from around the globe, and so, I carry on. 

One of my new friends suggests setting a word of intention for the day.  Yesterday I chose "bravery." She pointed out that bravery is on the continuum with fear - if I didn't have fear, there'd be no need to be brave. Today my intention was "endurance."

And so, I've walked up very steep coastal hills and wooded paths with new friends,  and have wandered in cities on my own for laundry and food, facing my fear of getting lost. And wouldn't you know it, even with Google maps, I did get lost (darned round-abouts) and a very kind senora walked me to my hotel with a pilgrim blessing. Helpers abound.

People on the Way aren't necessarily talking about their reasons for walking,  but the underlying question is, "Am I a tourist or a pilgrim?" A little of both, I'd say, as I've thoroughly enjoyed the sights as well as appreciating contemplative moments. So, my life lessons this week have been around trust, always, and about asking for and accepting help. Onward!

How hard or easy is it for you to ask for help? Do you recognize helpers when they appear? How do you integrate your spiritual life with the everyday, and are they actually separate?

on the path

After a couple of days to acclimate, we started walking on Monday, 11 days, 160 miles to Santiago de Compostela.

In talking with someone before leaving home, they shared their story of traveling with an AA symbol on their backpack, and all the fun and meaningful conversations it prompted along the way. So, I did the same, not at all shy about my recovery, knowing that, too, is a gift of long-term sobriety. (When I shared my plan with a newcomer, she was thinking that AA is something to hide. Not anymore, if it ever was for me). 

So, staying in the moment, literally one foot in front of the other, with the only concern of the day is where and what to eat, following the route markers, As much as I truly love my domestic life of home and hearth, I've been looking forward to this extended, walking retreat. I don't do that often enough - take time away from the daily routines. My spouse and I are conference go-ers, but I'm more thinking of time in nature, with blocks set aside for solitude. Of course, I could do that at home, but there is something to be said for intentionally taking an official break.

As of today no one has noticed or commented on the 12-step patch on my backpack, but I am having conversations with lots of people along the way. Whether English speaking or not we are on the same path.

And as we've read,  "Lack of power, that was our dilemma" as we were caught in the several nations power outage on Monday. It didn't impact us too much (no elevator at the day's hotel) and people were in good humor. We were all in it together, and such an example of not being in control. 

A very soggy walk today, yet another reminder to surrender to the moment (& grateful for all my running and walking in rainy Portland). So, Onward, odat!

Where has powerlessness shown up in your life this week? How do you put one foot in front of the other,  on the easy path or the tougher?

I'm walking here...

Rumi says, "As you start to walk on the way, the way appears."  Clarity doesn't come before action. It comes from action.

I've needed that message recently - the ongoing effort to stay in the moment. I leave this week to walk the Portuguese Coastal Route of the Camino de Santiago, a grand adventure and spiritual quest. I feel physically ready, with LOTS of walking under my belt these past few months, and am being conscious of being spiritually ready to walk through (literally) whatever the path may bring, knowing that there may be tears and there may be joy, frustrations and elations, literally one step at a time.

My prep included talking with two program friends who've recently completed the same trek, as well as following a social media group of women getting ready to set out. with a lot of attention in that group on what to carry, down to minutia of travel size shampoo, etc. My friends had some welcome advice and suggestions, but as one of the social network people wrote, "Just walk." I probably won't get lost on a marked path, and if I do, "Oh well" I can reset (heck, I get lost when walking in my own city, so I'm very accustomed to "Did I miss the turn?") 

And while it seems like every third person I've talked to has either done it, or knows someone who has, I will have my own experience. Kind of like early recovery when the old-timers would say, "You're right where you're supposed to be," sharing markers for 30, 60, 90 days and beyond. There are markers and maps for this phase of my spiritual development, and... I will know what I need to know, when I need to know it.

Somewhere in the last few months, someone posted on the Camino site that they'd realized the journey had already started while putting in the miles at home, thinking about their "why." Years ago, I heard circuit speaker, Pat Y, talk about her Camino, and that after all her preparation, she got there and took a nasty spill three or four days in, so couldn't finish. I asked about feeling disappointed, but she said, "No, not really," recognizing that the planning and preparation was her journey. I get that, especially when starting from zero, working up to six to eighteen miles per day. And, I can stay mindful of not getting cocky, Ms Marathon runner/walker that I am, or rather was, emphasis on "was." Like sobriety, my fitness (physical or spiritual) today isn't based on what I did five or ten years ago, but on what I am doing today. 

And so, off we go, a friend and I, into the wild, blue yonder. My intention is to post while away, though perhaps short and sweet. In any event, I will carry you in my heart. Please keep me in yours. 

How would you describe your current path? How might you undertake a spiritual quest, on an actual journey or in your own backyard?

*Note that sales of the Now What workbook are on temporary hold until I return home