Day 51

Day 51: Resting (because I know it is the right thing to do) in Ponferrada

From the beginning I have been fascinated by all the cemeteries, monuments, and memorials along the Camino. Tributes to pilgrims passed and others who have found themselves on the Way.

It seems natural to think of endings, seeing as the Camino leads us to the burial site of St James. (Randy and I even promised to spread each others ashes in the Pyrenees.) But what about all the life that has been created along the Way?

I could erect a million crosses with my story alone. Monuments to discovery. The finding of purpose. Self. Love.

The place where I wanted to give up, but didn't. Where I cried my first tears. The cafe where Jeff, Aloys, Randy, and I shared our hearts. Where I felt blissfully complete. The choir loft where I sang Amazing Grace. The albergue where I saw a woman dress a fellow pilgrims feet. Where Gabriel told me about his neighbor, the boy with no skin. And the man from Denmark said saying goodbye is the hardest thing.

And yet, perhaps, we have to die to something before that new life can occur. Materialism. Pride. Selfishness. Fear. Anger. Regret.

My monuments would also include the hard places, where I decided to empty my pack, where Randy and I said goodbye, where Ana told me I couldn't walk anymore, and where Brenda said she could already see the Camino in me.

If I believe this to be true, that I have already found my Way, then it doesn't matter how I get to Santiago. Or when. Tomorrow or next week. On foot or bus or horseback. What matters is that I let my light shine a little brighter with all the experiences and friends and life that have been added unto me every step of the Way.