We went on another fabulous a hike this past Sunday. This time it was to Los Cahorros de Monachil with a group from our village. I qualified it as preparation for walking the Camino de Santiago even though I am fairly certain we will not experience the same challenges in the physical terrain that this hike presented. But don’t misunderstand that fact as my saying it was not once again exactly what I needed.
I need its lessons for my camino and I need them for my life. I asked for them. Not on purpose, but out loud and openly all the same. Sublimely so.
I wrote my last post celebrating the exhilaration of arms in the air on a roller coaster as metaphor of releasing the grip that our fears have on us. There is a long list of goings on in my life at this time which are perfectly served by the imagery of surrendering to the slow agonizing climbs, the stomach dropping free falls, and dizzying twists and turns of a roller coaster. I wrote it to express joy in the face of fear illustrated by the wisdom gained in learning to reconcile my fear of heights. (Bravo! Bravo! Even now ,as I write about it again, I feel mad proud of all this. And why shouldn’t I? – It rocks. I rock! Takes a bow.)
It was also a very practical and useful exercise to dust off tools that I would require use of a couple of days later as I stood taking a deep breath … preparing to set out across this very long, very high up, very scary bridge.
No roller coaster arms in the air. I held on tight most literally and figuratively as I faced certain painful death.
And I laughed. Timidly at first as I considered the sweet irony if it were on that day which I actually would fall to a real and painful death. Quotes from my last post scattered throughout my imagined eulogy as mourners marveled at my clairvoyance. Later changing to wild woman cackling; body shaking (and bridge shaking…yikes!) laughter rising out of me as I crossed; drawing on all the freshly remembered practical methods for coping with my fear of heights. My hands may have held the grip of life on the bridge supports but the feeling in my heart and soul was full on roller coaster arms in the air. Joy in the face of fear!
Only to be humbled again.
Our route took us along a ledge above a very fast and unpredictable river. The same river which culminated in the massive waterfall that plunged down beneath the very scary bridge we crossed earlier. The hiking stick I use to help climb hills became more liability than asset and I briefly considered leaving it behind. Vertigo gripped me hard. The ledge was so narrow in places that we needed to hold metal climbing grips inserted in the rock and lean out over the river. At one point it was necessary to sit on your bum with your feet dangling over the edge as you scootched along until it became wide enough to stand again. The rock ledge worn shiny and smooth by untold numbers of bums doing the same before us. Or my personal favorite ‘metaphor in living technicolor’ part of the day – when the rock wall of the narrow gorge pushed out so far that the only way to proceed was crawling on hands and knees under the overhang.
It doesn’t get much more humbling than crawling on hands and knees.
Which brings me to how this comes full circle in preparing for my camino. I made mention in my first post about my intention to walk that I looked at pilgrimage as a physical embodiment of the archetypal hero’s journey. A myth of calling, preparation, separation. A journey were you may be humbled to the point of being bowed low as you confront mortality itself. An experience from which you return forever changed. This is the pilgrim’s path. This is what walking the camino is about. It can be walked in the context of religious or spiritual expression, private personal meaning, physical challenge or even simple pleasure. All the same, the story is there to guide us as we live out our own hero’s journey as pilgrims; joining our stories with the collective mythology shared through time.
What a glorious gift in this unexpectedly challenging hike to have to hang on tightly in a very ‘hands in the air’ sort of way. How powerful to have been brought to crawl on hands and knees. I even got a scratch on my knee for my battle scar. Classic Fantastic!
There is just over a week before we leave for our camino now. The date of our departure was originally set for two days from now, but those roller coaster events in my life I keep referring to have meant needing to remain flexible with it. I am exceedingly grateful that we are able to make such last-minute changes with little disruption.
Time now for transitioning out of preparation and into separation. Gathering of our supplies and tools that we may need – or may we need to shed – along the way. The attention being demanded by the thrill rides of life are shifting to the journey that is before us. We are in that place where dreaming gives way to doing. Trusting that we know enough and will learn from what we do not as we step into the unknown.
¡Hasta luego y Buen Camino!
No comments yet
Comments are closed