San Sebastian to Zarautz

If all you knew about the journey to Santiago de Compostela was from my writings and photos the past couple of days you might think it is all butterflies and rainbows. The reality is so far from that. It is truly one of the hardest things a person can choose to do, not just because it is physically taxing to walk 15-20 miles a day, but because it gives you an opportunity to get to know yourself, your belief systems, and your world view - both your inward thoughts and your outward projections - in a way that you might not experience back home. We avoid things that cause us pain and even distance ourselves from things that might make us uncomfortable. Our social media is full of the pounds we have lost, the goals we have achieved, and the quotes that make us feel good about ourselves. But life isn’t really like that. Neither is the Camino, but then I wouldn’t get that many thumbs-ups, likes, or heart emojis from photos of the mud and manure on the trail, the used toilet paper wads under the bushes, and the third of today’s trail that was on the shoulder of the highway with cars and motorcycles zooming too close by.

I had a boss once that chewed me out in the morning and let me stew and simmer in his ire and my self-doubt all day long. At the end of that work day he told me that the situation he castrated me for wasn’t actually significant and to him it was all in the past. I asked him why in God’s name he had so thoroughly punished me and his response was, “Sometimes you just need to jump on someone to see what squeezes out.” I didn’t like that answer, and for a long time I didn’t like him very much either, but I’ve come to understand what he was trying to tell me that day, hardships can reveal our true character.

I think that may be why I keep walking the Camino. I get to see what squeezes out.

Recently I bought an Oura ring. Each morning I log onto the app and it tells me how well I slept, how rested I am, and a score of my resilience. You wouldn’t think I would need an app for this data but it has been helpful to know my body so that I can take care of it. During the day the ring can tell me when my stress levels are elevated, when I need a breathing exercise, or when I need to get up from my desk and stretch my legs. Again, things my body is probably already telling me but I’ve learned how to ignore the cues.

This morning my app told me I had missed a night of sleep and that the three hours that I did rest was more like a nap. With the 24-hour travel day and subsequent jet lag earlier this week, combined with two rigorous days of hiking, my body is worn out. The problem was last night I couldn’t shut off my head.

For the purpose of this journal entry it doesn’t matter what was keeping me up, but it does matter how I think about this Camino. I came here to process, so should I be upset that it is working? I lay in bed in San Sebastian this morning realizing that bemoaning my restlessness wouldn’t move me forward, and I came to do just that - advance forward and upward. I decided to spend my day reframing the things that were making me uncomfortable.

My frustration continued with the chaotic cello (stamp) gathering process at the cathedral. My experience in San Sebastian mirrored the flippant attitude I was shown in both Lisbon and Porto from their cathedrals on earlier Caminos. While the brochure on the table outside the church office is a message from Pope Francis encouraging pilgrimages in this year of Jubilee it seems it wasn’t read by some of the staff. I don’t walk away from these encounters feeling honored for being a pilgrim but instead a burden. After reflection, I reframed this. While I enjoy collecting stamps in my credential and turning it in at the finish to get my Compostela certificate in Latin, I don't need validation from a religious institution to feel good about my journey. The true value lies in the pilgrimage and the personal growth I can take home with me.

Sometimes, it's the little things that require reframing. Bonnie and I scouted out cafes last night for a quick breakfast and coffee before leaving the city, only to find our first choice still setting up for the day. As we scouted for another cafe I spied a marvelous display of *pastel de natas* my favorite Portuguese pastry. I could taste the warm custard and flakey crust as we walked into the cafe only to realize that the display belonged to the the bakery next door, which was closed. The cafe owner wasn't interested in helping me break into his neighbor's establishment. The initial disappointment quickly turned into a positive when we met a young Australian lad named Andy who was starting his long walk in the opposite direction we were going. It was a joy to share our experiences and encourage him on his journey as we had just come form the Way he was going. This unexpected encounter happens all the time on the Camino and is a result of the little things like closed cafe’s, that deposit us into the perfect moment with another soul if we are open to it.

We also met two teachers from San Francisco, walking alongside them for nearly two hours, sharing stories as we walked at a similar pace. Later, we encountered a young Norwegian woman who had walked from her home in Norway. She had been on the trail for 100 days and it had been devoid of good connections as not many pilgrims were on her route and those who were didn’t speak her language. This week her mother joined her in San Sebastian to walk to Bilbao with her because sometimes you just really need your mom. She became teary as she told us her story and was reframing her spirit so she could continue her Camino. I’m not sure what lessons this taught her, but it was obvious that she found comfort in her family relationships and sometimes we don’t understand those deep connections until they aren’t available to us the same way they have always been.

Physical challenges on the Camino are inevitable. My IT band and left knee have been bothering me, especially on downhill stretches. These coastal towns and cities are all separated by hills and mountains to effort up and curse down. My reframe here is acknowledging my ability to take care of myself. A knee brace from the pharmacy that was less than $5, pain cream that I brought from my chiropractor, and adjusting my stride to shorter steps and keeping my knees bent made today nearly pain-free.

Even a stop at a place I knew to be a religious cult, based on reviews I had read online, became an opportunity for reframing. While their fear-mongering message plastered across their bus parked behind the cafe was unappealing - “Are You Prepared for what is Coming?”, their location was perfect for a break. They offered homemade cheese, bread, brownies and fresh fruit juice. They even had an espresso machine for my midmorning fix. The staff's genuine hospitality to all pilgrims was a stark contrast to my less-than-enthusiastic cathedral experience from yesterday. It was a valuable lesson in finding good in people where you might not expect it.

Towards the end of the day, my body started to shut down. I ran out of energy, and the last mile into town felt endless. Once in town I realized our lodging was on the other side, meaning we still had another mile to go. I started to feel frustrated but Bonnie reminded me I had just walked 22 kilometers on what Oura had told me was a nap. Looking back, I'm incredibly proud of what my body accomplished with such little rest. My last little reframe is this - though today was longer than I expected, we are now that much closer to tomorrow’s destination.Meer informatie