Susan Gilbert

The preparations made over the last five months will ‘go live’ two weeks from today when I depart Seattle for the Camino. Yet so many Camino lessons have already become a new way of living. I’ve learned that slowing down the pace of my life while increasing my time away from work and home has actually made me more productive and content. I feel more fully alive and not tied to a life of ‘have to dos’. In learning to slow down I am more present with each moment. Once on the Camino, my intention is to continue this pace without the thoughts of how much further I need to walk for the day or to complete the Camino. I haven’t even booked a return flight so that I can stay present with the experience without feeling a need hurry.

Once I made the decision to walk the Camino, I’ve looked forward to the unknowns in my practice walks – the challenges – and have practiced living with the spirit of discovery. Each time I left my home on a walk I wondered, “How long with this walk take?” “How hard will the extra miles be?” “What terrain will I be walking on this new trail?” “Will I get a blister?” then reframed those questions to the experience and wonder of sights and sounds around me; and, the wonder of how my body continues to get stronger and stronger – supporting my goal and this adventure.

Webster’s dictionary has many definitions of adventure, and this one resonated with me:

“A remarkable occurrence in one’s personal history, a stirring experience….”

My walking and preparations have provided momentous signals to go forth in trust and have confidence that the treasures of the road are available to me. Preparing for the Camino has helped me to see that every day is an adventure because every day is new. We have not lived that day before. Each part of my day is unknown until I live it. Living this way has kept my days fresh, invigorating, alive and inviting. There’s something quite wonderful about stepping out each morning with a sense of adventure instead of a dread of work or apathetic approach to what the day holds.

Living in the now is when we are not focused on what happened in the past, nor what we anticipate to happen in the future, and focus solely on this present experience (or adventure). Eckhart Tolle in his book, The Power of Now, teaches that true inner liberation only happens when we are present in each moment. While I read that book over 10 years ago, and it sits on my book shelf for reference, I believe I have only recently been able to integrate it fully. Each difficulty I have encountered during my preparations has brought an awareness, a challenge to grow and an opportunity to be grateful.

“Realize deeply that the present moment is all you ever have.”
Eckhart Tolle

I’m writing this post to remind myself to continue the practice of staying present throughout the whole Camino and to let the beauty around me be a central source of connection with the sacred, revitalizing each step that I take.

We each have a life path – our very own Camino – that we travel in life. Each personal path we traverse allows us to access the spiritual richness of those who have traveled before us and those who travel with us now. Each loving person we encounter leaves a touch of their positive, growth-filled goodness in our lives and our hearts.

I have been blessed with the visit of two beautiful souls this past week – women who I met on the path we traveled together on our Camino in the French Pyrenees several years ago. The time spent in my home with them these last few days has been a reunion of that time relived, an exchange of what each of us have experienced in our lives since, and what our intentions are for the future. They celebrated with me about my intention to walk the Camino de Santiago and I celebrated in the joy of knowing them.

One of these friends, Donna, had walked the last 100 miles of the Camino de Santiago prior to our time together in France. We talked about how the Camino is different for each of us, just like our lives are all a unique road that we travel. No one’s is the same.

I am acutely aware that though I am training with long walks of all kinds – on pavement, up and down rocky forest trails, and across gravel – as well as, preparing myself for the mental challenge of walking 500 miles that being a pilgrim will inevitably have its challenges and will not be an easy journey.

All my to-do lists and training will take care of many of the day to day needs and is part of the process.  My legs are developing great endurance, and my right shoulder is carrying my pack equally with my left shoulder and back without twinges. As my body gets stronger, I can also feel increased strength on an inner lever with a true sense that this journey holds many unforeseen benefits along with challenges. These anticipated blessings accompany the realization that there will be obstacles.  In fact, I have already experienced that when the travel company who was to take care of many of my arrangements and I parted company this week leaving me on my own. Rather than feeling a victim, I realize now that allowing the trip to unfold naturally is part of the divine plan.  I am envisioning the beauty of the countryside along with the probable demands of weather, ground surfaces, food, and blisters. So as part of my training, I am practicing acceptance. I believe this preparation is an important as the journey itself.

If we want to accomplish something significant in work or in life, it doesn’t happen automatically. Choices are made so that what we hope for can unfold.  We may find that we need to give up something we enjoy in order to have this new growth. Therefore the willingness to do ‘whatever is required’ is necessary to move into the desired uncharted territory.

This preparation is crucial just as we prepare the soil before planting a seed.

My dear friends have  added to the preparation by nourishing me with their personal stories, their open-heart sharing, and their love.  With gratitude, I thank you.

At its heart, the journey of each life
is a pilgrimage,
through unforeseen sacred places
that enlarge and enrich the soul.
~ John L’Donohue

I was looking up some information on a camino forum about one of the sections I’ll be walking when I saw a conversation unfolding that I found intriguing and had me asking myself – Am I a pilgrim or a walker?

I looked up the definition of pilgrim which said:

Noun: a person who journeys to a sacred place for religious reasons.
Verb: travel or wander like a pilgrim.

The Camino de Santiago is steeped in deep religious beliefs since the original walkers were Catholics on a pilgrimage for penance.  Since that time, the choice to walk the camino is very personal.  Some will walk for religious reasons, others as a very introspective time, and some as an adventure.  I am not Catholic and believe as a seeker this will be a very ‘higher learning’ journey for me.  The path is ancient, filled with the spiritual energy of others who have walked it going back to the ninth century; and, is described by those who have walked it a source of profound renewal.  Each person travels the path for his or her own reasons with the hope that one day the purpose of the road will reveal itself and be understood.

While the physical goal is to reach Santiago, the path invites us to be personally transformed and inspired.  Charles Foster wrote in The Sacred Journey, “As conventional churchgoing plummets, the number of people taking to the road rises.”

Pilgrimages take place around the world for many religions and you might have heard of Peace Pilgrim who walked more than 25,000 miles across North America on a personal pilgrimage for peace from 1953 to 1981. This silver haired woman was on a mission!

Back to the forum post – it was about one of the well known points on the camino – an iron cross called La Cruz de Ferro located between the towns of Foncebadón and Manjarín. The custom is to bring a rock from home, carry it with you to this point, and then leave it on the mound at the foot of the cross asking a blessing or as a symbol of leaving their burdens or sins behind.  Some symbolically leave with the stone a problem or issue they for long have been carrying.

Rituals are very powerful and very personal. The woman who started the forum thread was deeply religious, had recently experienced deaths in her family, with another one ill, and had carried her rocks looking forward to this momentus time. She assumed other pilgrims would treat the shrine as a sacred place and observe the sanctity of the ritual. As happens sometimes with assumptions, she was upset and shocked to find that pilgrims were walking all over the mound, blindly stepping on the sacred stones left behind by others. She said, “there were several walkers (I will not call them pilgrims) who were deliberately mocking the Cruz de Ferro with consciously ridiculous poses, competing with one another to see who could have the most mocking photo taken.” The unfolding conversation was very interesting as people weighed in whether they were pilgrims or walkers. Some held that this cross was sacred and should be held with the same reverence we would a church. Others said it is just a pile of stones going back to Celtic times to mark the strategic location of the road until the cross was placed there in the early eleventh century. Over the years, the tradition began of placing a stone along path then called it Cruz de Ferro.

Millions of people have walked the camino and each pilgrim adds to that energy.  It’s really quite profound.  In years gone by, people walked from their homes in Italy, Belgium, Germany, Holland and France – all headed to the well-worn path that stretches across Spain to the Cathedral in Santiago.  Each walker or pilgrim comes to this path with their own intention for walking the path.

Over the last few days, as I walked here locally – both over the pavement sidewalks and on the trails in the woods – I asked myself, “Am I pilgrim or a walker?”   I came to the conclusion that I’m a walking pilgrim or a pilgrimaging walker; that, for me I am both as I walk with the current intention of readying myself physically for the camino while staying present with the experience I am having right here, right now.

“Walker, your treads are/the path and nothing more;/walker, there is no path,/ the path is made when walking.
When walking the path is made/ and when looking back /you see the path that never / has to be walked again…
When the goldfinch cannot sing./When the poet is a pilgrim,/when praying has no use./Walker, there is no path,/the path is made when walking…'”

~Antonio Machado, Spanish poet

 

Every day on the camino will bring a new adventure with new sights, new sounds, new ground to be walked.  The paths that make up the Camino de Santiago span over 800km (500 miles) and vary greatly in trail surface, grade, landscapes, and climate.  While the time it takes to complete the camino varies, I’ve been told you can reach Santiago gracefully in 5 weeks, allowing for an average of 22.2 kilometers a day with 2 rest days.  To be away from work for that long seemed daunting at first – “I don’t have the time” –  until I realized I have all the time in the world if I choose to take it.

The Camino will offer me a variety of terrain, from mountains and the foothills of the Pyrenees, the beautiful vineyards of Rioja to farmland, rolling pastures and forests, though cities, towns, ancient villages and hamlets.

Here is a list of the different sections of the Camino de Santiago St. James Way along with my proposed stops on ‘the way’.

Basque Country & Navarra

While the Camino Frances traditionally begins in St. Jean-Pied-de-Port, France and crosses the Pyrenees within 20km the path enters the region of Spain called Navarra and borders Basque Country.  This section of the Camino will be some of the most difficult  with the Pyrenees unpredictable weather and challenging terrain before entering Navarra’s central plains characterized by fields of grain, vineyards and beech forests.

Arrive in St Jean Pied de Port and overnight
Walk to Orisson – 7.6km
Walk to Roncesvalles, 16.6 km
Walk to Akerreta, 27 km
Walk to Pamplona, 15 km
Walk to Puente la Reina, 22 km
Walk to Estella, 20 km
Walk to Los Arcos, 20 km
Walk to Logrono, 27 km

La Rioja & Castilla Y Leon

This climate will become more Mediterranean and the earth will be deep red, ideal for the cultivation of wine grapes.

Walk to Najera, 27 km
Walk to Santo Domingo, 21 km
Walk to Belorado, 22 km
Walk to Atapuerca, 29 km
Walk to Burgos, 20 km
Extra Night in Burgos
Walk to Hornillos, 20 km
Walk to Castrojeriz, 18 km
Walk to Fromista, 27 km
Walk to Carron de los Condes, 19 km
Walk to Calzadilla de la Cueza, 16 km
Walk to Sahagun, 22 km

Meseta

This is an area that many people who have walked describe it as boring, repetitive and bleak.  This central high plateau makes up 40% of Spain with elevations ranging from 400 – 1000m.  This landscape inspired such notable characters as Don Quixote and St. Teresa of Avila.  In spite of the monotony, perhaps the Meseta can serve as a memorable experience.  I’ve also read that the landscape of the Meseta is not found in the land, but in the sky with its diverse colors and expansive clouds, so I’ll be sure to look up as well as out to the horizon.

Walk to El Burgo Ranero, 18 km
Walk to Mansilla de las Mulas, 19 km
Walk to Leon, 17 km
Extra Night in Leon
Walk to Villadangos del Paramo: 21 km
Walk to Astorga, 26 km

Cantabrian Mountains

Characterized by the wild and rocky Cantabrian Mountains and the vally of El Bierzo, the trail passes through a region of the Maragato culture centralized in about 40 villages around Astorga.

Walk to Rabanal del Camino: 19 km
Walk to El Acebo : 16.8 km
Walk to Ponferrada : 15.6km
Walk to Villafranca del Bierzo, 24.2 km
Walk to Herrerias de Valcarce, 22 km

Galicia

Surprising Celtic in culture and in the green Galacian forests, this will be my final section before arriving to the grand cathedral in Santiago.

Walk to O’Cebriero, 9 km
Walk to Triacastela, 22 km
Walk to Sarria, 18 km
Walk to Portomarin, 24 km
Walk to Palas de Rei, 24 km
Walk to Arzua, 28 km
Walk to Rua, 19 km
Walk to Santiago de Compostela, 18 km

With so many different regions and changes to experience in both weather and topography, how could each day not be a new adventure?!

Every Day Adventures Right Here at Home

I have recently found though, that every day adventures can happen right here at home.

Several years ago, I noticed a sign, Grand Ridge Park,  appear at the side of the road.  No other information, just the sign.  I asked some neighbors about it and they didn’t have an explanation either.  There was a small trail leading down the hill by the sign (not uncommon here where there are trails everywhere) and I started noticing bicyclists pop up from the trail to cross the road.  A bit disconcerting.  While I’m used to watching for deer along the side of the road, having a bike suddenly appear out of the woods was different.  Last year, in addition to adding a car park for the bicyclists, a path was created from the parking lot to the beginning of the trail to keep the bicyclists off the narrow road.  As I drove past day after day, seeing the bikes go by, I thought – too bad they didn’t make it for walkers and did not consider hiking it until I went investigating on one of my country road walks.  What I found, right in plain sight was an unexplored adventure.

It turns out that Grand Ridge Park is 1,200 acres of pristine forest rising 1,100 feet in elevation above Issaquah and Lake Sammamish.  Along with groves of western red cedar trees and sword ferns the steep slope above the North Fork of Issaquah Creek is covered by stands of large second growth Douglas fir trees.  Some of the cedars are over five feet in diameter.  The seven mile shared use trail traverses the long linear park through a variety of forest settings inhabited by bears, cougars, owls and other wildlife.

During the 7 mile out and back for a challenging 14 mile walk, I saw two bikers and multiple walkers along with hawks and plenty of squirrels like this little fellow on the right.   It is amazingly quiet and yet undiscovered for many.

Which makes me wonder what every day adventure, not yet discovered,  awaits me.

 

Preparing for the camino makes me think of Paulo Coelho’s quote, “One day you will wake up and there won’t be any more time to do the things you’ve always wanted.  Do it now.”  The hours and hours I am walking in preparation for the camino, I would not have allowed myself to do without a goal – work, animal care, to-do’s would have taken top priority.  And yet, I love walking.  I’m already beginning to understand that my life has changed with new patterns being put into place that will continue long after I have returned from my journey. My motto has become, “Do it now.”

While cloudy, no rain was on the horizon this past Saturday as I headed out to do my second long walk of the week. Rather than driving to a hiking spot in the mountains, I am especially enjoying walking out the door of my home, down my driveway, and connecting with the country roads that will take me where my car usually does. It feels much more like what I will experience on the camino where I will leave the door of one place of lodging and arrive at the next on foot. Today I’ll wind my way ultimately up to the plateau along the wavy up and down winding road and traverse for a couple miles before heading back down on the other side of the mountain – then turning around and doing the same thing backwards.

I am carrying my back pack filled with books to get used to the weight and water. I found on my walk earlier this week, that while I like the pouches on the outside of the backpack for water bottles, there is no easy way to get the bottles out and put back without taking the backpack off. A quick trip to REI and problem solved with a water bladder, now in place in my backpack with a magnetized tube attached to my backpack chest strap. I also have added a fanny pack with mesh vents that holds my iPhone.  Now I can hear music play amidst the nature sounds of bird chirping and water gurgling in the stream that runs alongside the road.

I clicked Music on my iPhone and chose my friend and France camino sister Andrea Menard’s album, Lift  to hear her song, I Love My Life start playing.  Tears of joy immediately began to roll down my cheeks.  Nothing could be more appropriate than this song, at this time.

I love my life, I love my life.
Every step of the way I can honestly say I love my life.
I love this day. What a beautiful day.
Each moment is mine to make it divine. I love this day.
I love. I love.

By the time Faith & Patience began to play I was weeping from the filled up well of gratitude for my life.

Livelong friends were made on my camino trip to France in 2013, though I have only seen most once or twice since that time. Songstress Andrea lives in Vancouver, BS and Dear Donna lives in Portland, OR. With me halfway in between in the Cascade foothills outside Seattle, WA we have often talked about us gathering here for some soul sister time but in our busy lives, that hasn’t happened. Andrea was one of the six of us who hiked in Mt. Shasta last year, but I haven’t seen Donna since a core group of us reunioned at Zion in 2014. Now, sister pilgrims Andrea and Donna are coming for few days early April and I am once again reminded of the synchronicity that is woven into our lives. Being with them before I depart on the camino will be magical and in perfect time.

The country road turns into the main two lane highway at the plateau, and while there is a path that runs just inside a tree line separating the road, I’m very aware that the songs I could hear clearly are now being drowned out by the whoosh of passing cars. It occurred to me it was a great metaphor for what happens with our intuition and inner guidance when there is too much noise. Once connected with quiet and nature the messages come through loud and clear, rather than drowned out by the noise of everyday life.

I’m noticing the broken branches strewn across the path – a common sight here in Pacific NW after a wind storm which makes me question, “What natural pruning will happen as I walk the camino?” and “What things, no longer needed, will I shed?”

The path moves closer to the highway and becomes a sidewalk, the cars are now much closer and hurry by. Coming up to a posted speed sign, I can see an electronic read out above it calling out the car speeds in a 40 mph zone: 41, 32, 38, 45. Chuckling to myself, I wonder what my speed would be if the counter could scan me when all of a sudden I visualized, instead of numbers, seeing: Camino Time .

As the final and steepest downhill began I had to laugh out loud when I saw a 12% grade sign. Is that a grade on how my hiking is going? Or – just an affirmation of my angle. Either way, it also signified that what goes down, will come back up on the other side. Luckily, at the bottom of the hill is a Starbucks where I will stop for a break and drink a latte, practicing once again for my café con leche (coffee with milk) breaks which will become my daily drink and stop where possible on the camino.

After my short break at Starbucks, I pulled my backpack over my shoulders and knowing that one half of my long walk was complete, headed out the door ready to tackle that hill homeward bound.

Several miles later I turned onto the main connecting road that will take me on my final segment home. There is a small park parking lot where many bicyclists leave their cars before heading onto the trail in the woods.  I moved off the main road to cut through the parking lot that is forested and came upon a picnic table, bountifully filled for a party. I asked the gal who was making multiple trips from her car to the table whose birthday it was. She told me it was her boyfriend’s, that the party would be a surprise when he returned back to the parking lot from his bike ride, and his friends would be there as well to greet him. This party perfectly matched my mood as a day of celebration and I asked if I could take a picture. She smiled and said, ‘yes’.

Happy Birth Day Every One Every Day

Two and a half miles later, I was walking up the winding gravel driveway to my home. There is a soft breeze and the flowering trees flutter in the wind. The pink petals of the flowers are letting loose and showering down on me. It’s a confetti parade welcoming me home after a 13 mile walk.  What a lovely natural phenomenon to experience…and such a celebration of life.

I love my life!