Last Week Thoughts

As we approach Sarria and the last 100 km (more of less) and the last week (more or less) of our Camino, I am starting to wonder how I am going to handle coming home to my normal life.

It's become easy to let all the regular noise of modern life recede, particularly in the last few days of forest paths. We see other walkers rarely, and instead every step is in the moment, smelling wet leaves, farmyard manure, and crushed mint, listening to the rush of clear streams, lowing of cows, wind in the trees and morning birdsong, seeing mouldy shells of old buildings, sere fields and green forests, and a canopy of leaves above our deep path, tasting tart apples plucked from trees before they fall and decompose, green figs ditto, fresh squeezed orange juice and strong coffee with foamy milk in wayside cafes, feel the damp and humid air in the forest paths, the still warm sun as it appears over the mountains before the mist rises, the small pieces of gravel as they seem to find their way in our shows, and the cold wet of a log or stone bench as we sit when the gravel gets too much and we must shake it out of our boots before going on.

This connection to the immediate environment and the humanity that lives or moves through here is like walking between the earth and the sky. The outside world is unimportant. What only matters is right now.

I have trained myself over the decades to be a bit of a newshound, wanting to be aware of things around me, their impact and requirements of me as a citizen. To understand what different people live with and deal with in different locales has been of great importance to me; to not become complacent in my own, easy world. But this has become harder and more time consuming with technology and the need for eyes to justify information production, and it requires more energy and determination to look beyond the surface and the immediate to ensure the truth and responsible action.

We skim the news headlines when we have good wifi, but are happy to avoid the deep reading and researching that became habitual at home. I wonder how I will handle being in the middle of things again. Can I escape to the solitude of the moment? Can I ignore all the noise that I know will surround me? Can I still be informed and engaged without having to delve for hours into the melee?

I suppose this is what meditation is meant to do - to be able to escape the flow of life and concentrate on the breath of living. Rather than shut the door on the outside world, I think I need to carve out a little bit of silence and try to maintain this Camino mentality.