“…that every step along the way, you had carried
the heart and the mind and the promise
that first set you off and drew you on and that you were
more marvelous in your simple wish to find a way
than the gilded roofs of any destination you could reach”
David Whyte, Santiago
As we approached Santiago, I must admit that I felt a bit of grief that our journey was coming to an end. This daily walking had become so familiar. I was having to stretch less and less as the days progressed. I felt physically better on day nine than I did on day two or three. As we drew towards our destination, part of me desperately wanted to just keep going.
Not that the walking had become easy. Day eight was 14 miles in constant rain. That day I arrived to our final destination soaked to the bone. And yet so grateful. What a joy to have life reduced to such simplicity. Each day spent putting one foot in front of the other. Rain or shine. Because gratitude isn’t situational. It is always available. Always an invitation.
I wonder if, when Jesus said to the rich young ruler to sell all he had and follow him He was inviting him not to a life of sacrifice, but instead to the abundance of living life as a pilgrimage. To stop accumulating and start traveling. After all, Jesus wasn’t merely the truth. He was the way.
And the way isn’t solving a puzzle or discovering some secret meaning of life. It is a way of being present. To experience the abundance all around you. Every unique smell. Every tiny wildflower budding out of a crack in the road. Every cow you pass that looks up with beautiful indifference. After awhile you find yourself just soaking it all up. Resting in the grace and peace of it all.
In his poem, Santiago, David Whyte talks about how the simple wish to find a way is more marvelous than any destination. And I think he’s right. But I must say that arriving was marvelous as well. More than I anticipated.
Standing in the courtyard of the cathedral of Santiago I found my eyes so full of unexpected tears. So much gratitude all at once. For each step of the journey. For the gift of getting to do this with Patty. Every step with her. For the delightful group of fellow pilgrims we traveled with and our brilliant guides. We cheered, we posed for pictures, we hugged and laughed, and we collapsed. We made it!
Every marker on the Camino is a countdown in kilometers to Santiago. It is a bit shocking to find yourself down to single digits. And in the end to arrive at km 0. To realize that tomorrow you won’t be putting on those same weary shoes. You have arrived.
Except you haven’t. Most of the writing surrounding the walking of the Camino warns you that your journey home is really the beginning of the journey. That the weight of all you have lived and experienced on the road has yet to be understood. The experience comes first and then the meaning.
Which is a relief, because so far, no huge lights have turned on. No booming voices or heavenly epiphanies. But I do know this, that I feel more like myself than I have for awhile. And that feels really good. That, in itself, feels like coming home.
The final stop on your camino is often referred to as your turning around point. Which is what we’re doing. We are turning around, but not finishing our Camino.
As we attended the Pilgrim’s mass at the cathedral, the priest prayed the pilgrim’s blessing over us. He said,
As you kept them safe
on their Camino way,
may you keep them safe
on their journey home.
And, inspired by their experience here,
may they live out the values of the Gospel
as their pilgrimage through life continues.
And that rang so true. Living out the values of the gospel as the pilgrimage continues.
Because our pilgrimage through life does indeed continue. And we will continue to follow this narrow path of the gospel. To follow in His steps. To continue to live into the questions and seek the way forward. To enjoy each step. To celebrate the times of rest and joy and as well as the days of rain and mud. And to never mistake this world as our final destination.
But we can’t wait to get home! To return to all of you who we have missed so much. To squeeze our kids until they get uncomfortable. And to bring home a bit of this journey to our wonderful little church body who is on this pilgrimage of life together.
I sure love you guys!