Even when signs exist to mark our way we will miss them entirely if we fail to pay attention.

 

For the majority of each day we walked through relatively isolated stretches of land that separated towns and villages but at the end of most days we found ourselves navigating more urban settings as we searched for our nightly lodging.  A few of these cities, Porto de Varzim, Vigo, Pontevedre, and Santiago were downright metropolitan.

 

It always felt a little odd to walk into a bustling city dressed in sweaty clothes and carrying a pack. I felt self-conscious among well-dressed men and women engaged in well-dressed men and women things. Even with the distractions that we experienced though, we couldn’t afford to grow distracted; We had to stay on the look out for yellow arrows and scallop shells, even as we negotiated crowds and traffic jams. 

 

Sometimes these urban markers were elegantly embossed painted tiles and sometimes just simple spray-painted arrows on walls or the ground in the middle of a busy plaza. Women in high heels would walk across their surface unaware of their meaning or existence. We felt as though we were part of a secret society, searching for and following symbols that the busy people surrounding us were oblivious to. The world had become divided into two types of people: Those on a deliberate pilgrimage and those simply going about their day. 

 

In some ways this perspective is born out in real life. Richard Rhor, the Catholic priest and writer, stated that he had read one time that: "90% of people live 90% of their time on cruise control, which is to say unconscious." He goes on to say: "I always want to believe that I am part of the 10% who muddle their way through life awake. I wish that were true anyway.” 

 

I can relate to that desire but, when honest, I would have to admit that that's not always the case. I spend too many hours "on cruise control".

 

I get distracted enough that I can go days forgetting to connect to what’s deeply important to me. Occasionally an entire season will pass and I’ll realize I’ve forgotten to think deeply at all.  I hate these times! I know it’s happened when I get the uncomfortable feeling that I’ve just been “biding my time”. The anxiety I get from this realization is both startling and painful. 

 

Since returning from the Camino I find I’m in a good place, a “thin” place, where the line that separates me from God seems very fine. I feel alive, aware, excited, and creative. My joy and passion for all things “conscious” are intense. I’m remembering to search for signs of connection to something bigger than myself, and I feel dedicated to take time each day to foster that connection I’m open to what the world has in store for me and what I have in store for the world. I feel like I’m still on an active pilgrimage, even though I’m back home, far from Spain.

 

As much as I love this state of connection, I know it won’t last. It’s getting harder to maintain the longer I’m away from The Camino. Home just five weeks and I can feel the distractions. The walls of my “thin place” are growing thicker. More and more I’m not that grubby, tired pilgrim searching for signs around me; more often I’m the woman in high heels stepping right over them without noticing. If I’m not careful my distraction will cost me. The price will be the loss of connection to myself, and my divinely inspired dreams. Instead of searching for the markers in my day, I’ll be back to just marking my days. My anxiety will return, along with the emptiness of days simply checked off my calendar. 

 

I can see why some people return time and time again to walk additional caminos; We met one woman who had walked twelve. I understand the urge to return and recapture lost connection, but in truth I can’t imagine being that woman. There is too much of the world left for me to see. I resist the idea that my highest, conscious self resides only overseas. Like most of us, I’d like to remain part of Richar Rhor’s 10% of conscious beings; Even now, especially now. 

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Reflection:

 

Walking my camino reminded me of a word I learned years ago: “Teshuvah”. It is the Hebrew word for “return”. It speaks to the Jewish injunction to “return to” who it was God initially created at our conception. Jews are encouraged to make a pilgrimage of sorts back to their true selves, and then to put that divinely inspired version into the world in a way that will make a positive difference. In many ways walking The Camino de Santiago was an outward manifestation of an inward journey of Teshuvah. I did get to “remember” my best self.

 

I still wear the tiny gold scallop shell charm that I purchased in Santiago. I touch it often to remind myself to remain committed to the different way of being that was revealed to me. I tell myself that God imagined a talented, worthy, courageous woman when he created me and that only I can stand in the way of releasing my power and passions into the world. I do my best to contradict the voices of self-doubt, and fear, and apathy that continue to plague me. I make myself spend time “remembering” who I’ve felt called to be, even when I don’t feel like it. I record my dreams, the ones my unconscious uses to reveal direction, and I set regular intentions so that I can mark my outward progress. It is an on-going pilgrimage and the arrows and markers point inward and outward, upward and forward. I try my best to stay awake and aware so that I don’t miss them entirely and return to biding time rather than making the most of my time. The markers are everywhere, I need to remember to notice them.

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     1.  What are the daily practices that help keep you awake, alive, and connected you to your truest, and most creative, passionate, and powerful self?

     2. What is it that typically distracts you from sticking with these practices consistently?

     3.  If  you have temporarily lost connection to yourself can you remember how it felt? Do you miss it? What is one thing you could do to regain it?