Begin at the beginning!

Well, to actually do that, would mean going back a minimum of about 15 years!  Somewhere 15 to 20+ years ago was when I can first recall having heard about the Camino de Santiago de Compostella.  It was, if memory serves at all, an article in a German magazine.  It may have been Der Spiegel, and for the life of me I can't remember if I as reading it the original or not.  But that was the first time I heard of people walking from village to village in remote areas of northern Spain.  And crossing the Pyrenees on foot!  I was totally taken with the idea of being somewhat at the mercy of villagers kindnesses, for food, water and shelter.  I don't even remember that I knew where they were really walking to, or even that Santiago, was/is the english St. James.   There was literally sort of a bell that went off inside of me, saying with absolute clarity, you can do this, you must.  I just knew at some point I would.

Moving up a few years on a quiet Sunday morning, I was working in a bookstore in the Quakerbridge Mall.  It was my last day at that location.  I was opening alone and my first customer across the threshold as I raised the gate,  a young lady, slightly flustered and more than a little excited.  She was looking for a journal.  So I took her to the section, asked a few of the usual questions...type,  look, style etc.  She needed a lightweight one as she was going on a trip.  At the register, with what seemed half an acre of counter between us, I asked where was she going.  Her answer still gives me shivers.  She told me she was on the way to the airport, to Spain to the Camino de Santiago.  I froze and stared for a moment or two before I could even respond.  It was like hearing that bell again!  Hearing my name being called.  She too was more than a little surprised that I actually even heard of it.  I remember aching to go with her, wishing her well, watching her walk out of my store down the stairs, brightly lit by the skylight overhead, and just wanting to go....but not being able. That distance across the counter might as well have been an ocean.  There was simply no way I could do it, responsibly, but that doesn't mean I didn't want to jump that counter and run and follow her.  Of course since I was leaving for another store the next day, I also knew the odds of crossing paths with her later, ... slim to none!  But such is the Camino.

It's funny reading what I just wrote, and realizing for the first time how patiently I've been waiting for this.  Since that bright sunny morning, Caminoing, went way on the back burner for me.  I have a family and at that time, they truly needed Mom around.  You can't go disappearing, traipsing across Europe when you have sons in elementary and high school.  There were still so many meals to cook, clothes to wash, tuitions to be paid and the list goes on and on.  Funny to how in all the readings I've been doing about the Camino, patience is on of the things everyone talks about needing, learning, struggling with.  I guess I began my lessons in patience along the Camino a long time ago, I just didn't realize it.  So I guess the Camino has been teaching me for a long time already...good things are worth waiting for!

It's still a year away, I believe, that I'll be able to disentangle my self and go back.  Yes, I've done one of the routes, but not the one that's been calling me all this time.  Over this year there will be research, training, planning plotting and of course patience.   I may never get the chance to disappear and simply walk a pilgrimage again (at least of this length) so I want to be sure that I make the most of the opportunity.  I don't want to simply stumble blindly and unknowingly past the treasures of the road, unable to fully appreciate where I am and what has gone before me to make this road what it is.  There is such a wealth of history there, in Spain and on the road itself.  Culturally and spiritually...I want to be ready.

Camino....I'm coming...Publish Post