So what are we learning — Ventosa, Spain

They say the Camino is a moving symbol of your life as a whole. Its requirements and gifts a microcosm of human experience, wherein you can find the lessons of a lifetime. My analytical brain was aware of this going in. My intellectual self accepted it as the truth, kind of saying, uh huh uh huh, yes got it. I'm very smart and important, next epiphany please and thank you. 

But that's not really the way this thing works, is it. Understanding the experiential concept and existing within it are two different things. 

Someone recently advised me to try to know things with my spirit, rather than just with my intellect. To understand my place in this life's fabric with my body knowledge as well as the traditional grey-matter sort. 

I'll tell you, it's good advice. So. What are we learning. 

Perseverance. Frugality. Caution. Endurance. Simplicity. Friendliness. Humility. Respect. Silence. Solitude. Suffering. Gratitude. Serenity. 

I think a person can move through these things without terrible grief, at least in this situation. This walking across northern Spain — which is of course delightful alongside any kind of difficulty. Anyone of reasonably able body can do it, absolutely. It's true that most of us aren't used to quite this amount of walking, but our bodies are made to handle such things. So, we adapt. And it's possible to adapt to the necessities of this urban/rural trail without really taking serious or lasting note of them. Or even to kind of train wreck your way through and survive mostly intact. Like the hilarious couple from Manchester that have been "completely leathered" since they left St. Jean. Their drunken stories are a riot, but I am so grateful to not be on their Camino. I wish them well, but it's not for me. 

An alternative possibility is to stop and truly absorb the shifts and adaptations of self that are available to us here, or on any kind of long-distance endeavor. It's possible to slide these experiences, like souvenirs, into your muscle fiber and remember them for later. For always. For when you are lost. Or sad. Or lonely. Or frustrated. Or weary. Or failing. 

The trick is, you have to show up for the experience. Be present and aware enough to see its layers, take what it offers, and move forward. In this sense, sobriety is more than just not partaking in alcohol. It's the showing up. The waking up. That's when, I think, the lessons offered tend to stick a little more. 

And of course, if you forget, the Way is marked with the shells and crosses and arrows and refuges and prayers and rock piles and statues of a thousand years worth of pilgrims, and it will be there to remind you.  

The messages left by other pilgrims and well wishers are many and varied. Metal works, clay sculpture, rock mounds, graffitti, wooden crosses, painted arrows, village signs, official way markers...the list goes on.