Anne and I walked up to the lighthouse at the tip of Cape Finisterre this morning.
An extra 3.5K from town...
still rocking those kilometers!
Writers about Celtic Spirituality talk about 'thin places' -
those sacred times or locations in which the boundaries that separate earth and heaven are permeable;
when the distinctions between each realm cannot be clearly delineated.
Finisterre, on this morning,
was the very definition of a thin place.
It was exquisite.
And, even as the sun rose higher,
making the boundaries between sea, earth and sky more visible,
a sense of holiness continued.
And Anne and I joined the thousands of other pilgrims
who have stood proudly by kilometer marker
000.0.
There was nowhere left to go -
in Spain at least.
And no, as much as I'd have liked to,
I didn't burn a set of clothes in the ash pit.
I'm way too frugal for that...
they'll make excellent gardening outfits!
It was very important to Anne and I that we not have our backpacks on
when we walked to the lighthouse.
We wanted to symbolize how much less burdened we were
at this stage in our journey.
As we were walking back to the albergue,
Anne was convinced this reflection of trees/bushes in the water
was a backpacker,
a pilgrim with an arrow that pointed up to heaven...
guess our journeys will continue!
and, just that suddenly,
my Camino was over.
No comments:
Post a Comment