Epilogue

It has been two and a half months since completing the Camino de Santiago, and I have been mulling over that experience. Did I learn anything from that 500 mile walk? Am I different in any way, having completed this? When I try to articulate what the experience was like, it often sounds like a collection of New Age cliches, unfortunately, but I will try to put it in words nonetheless.

During the walk I was dealing with a variety of anxieties, including concerns whether my body would hold up, worries about Karen and Ted and how they would react to this difficult undertaking, worries about finding a place to stay, concerns about whether we were walking far enough each day to finish it all in two months, and occasional worries about the heat and the cold and how they were affecting us. As the walk progressed, these concerns became less and less. My changes in this were made more evident by occasional encounters with other walkers who were still clearly anxious about worries I had given up or never had. As time went on I was able to accept that it would work out for us no matter what happened. We faced a variety of challenges — I’m thinking of trudging up a mountain in the rain, my feet thoroughly soaked, feeling cold — but these all worked out, even though sometimes requiring us to persevere more than I had expected. So I learned that I am stronger and more resilient than I knew, and I can adjust to a wide range of circumstances I happen upon.

While walking I often thought of our trip as a metaphor for our lives with a beginning, middle, and end. The life of the Camino was a very full life for me, interesting in thousands of ways I never expected, beautiful in ways that surpassed my expectations, slowed down and appreciated more than I would have thought. I hope this can translate to the rest of my life. The Camino walk reminds me of the shortness of my life and the choices I have as to how I want to spend the time I have left. I’m sure many of those choices are not apparent to me now, but I hope to be open to them and enjoy them as they emerge.

For many the bones interred at the cathedral in Santiago have meaning because of the connection it gives them to Christ. I’ve come to value those bones in a different way. I like to think of them as the bones of Everyman, a reminder to all of us that this will be us one day. Inevitably, I will be atoms dispersed into the universe, and this fate cannot escape me, no matter how much I would like to bargain it away or to try to forget this is true. This is it for me, the life I have, to do with as I choose. Although the options I have are narrowing with age and the losses of strength, health, ability to recover, and stamina, I still have many choices left to do with as I might. The Camino ends in bones buried in a church, just as all of our lives end in bones buried in the earth, burned to ash, at the bottom of the sea, or frozen in ice. It’s up to us to do what we will before it comes to that.

There were many obstacles on the Camino that we needed to push through. Often when confronted with this, I would find myself enjoying the process, rather than bemoaning my misfortune (my usual coping mechanism). I hope I can continue doing that with the obstacles I will continue to meet with the rest of my life.

I found myself on the Camino more open to people I would ordinarily overlook, enjoying the more quirky personalities out there. Often these encounters were made even more amusing by the language barrier. Instead of being afraid with different people, I found myself observing them and enjoying them. Of course there had to be some judgment in this, and I made the mistake of being too trusting in the Madrid train station where I was pickpocketed. As the Camino went on, I became more confident in my ability to accurately assess these kinds of situations, opening up to experiences when it was reasonable and taking precautions when not. I hope I can continue this with the rest of my life.

I am struck by how massively large the earth is (it was a long walk to cover a very small part of the earth’s circumference), At the same time I am struck by how much people from all over the world are similar to each other. The vast, vast majority of people living along the Camino and walking on the Camino are well-intentioned with warm hearts. A number of walkers we encountered continue to be friends, even though we will probably never hear from most of them again. We were all in it together, going through this experience that had elements unique to each of us and other elements shared by everybody. I have a greater faith in my fellow man now.

Again I think Ted’s idea to improve the world bears repeating: have the leaders of each country on earth walk the Camino together, doing it like other pilgrims: no support vehicles, no security details, no plans for where to stay that night — everybody out there on his own but needing each other too, each struggling to make his way as best he can.