Map of the Camino

for those who asked -

here's the best map I could find with many of the towns delineated.

I'll be walking from East to West -

with the sun at my back.

The plan was to start in St Jean - and, indeed, that's where I'm headed.

Although reports this afternoon of the train being out 

from Bayonne to St Jean 

due to a mudslide on the track 

and 3-4 feet of snow on the route over the Pyreenes, 

may alter where I start once I get there.

Stay tuned.

(For those more oriented from North and South - 

I flipped the map so it would be easier to read the town names).

The Journey

 One day you finally knew 

what you had to do, 

and began, 

though the voices around you 

kept shouting their bad advice— 

though the whole house began to tremble 

and you felt the old tug 

at your ankles. 

"Mend my life!" each voice cried. 

But you didn't stop. 

You knew what you had to do,

 though the wind pried 

with its stiff fingers 

at the very foundations, 

though their melancholy 

 was terrible. 

It was already late enough, 

and a wild night, 

and the road full of fallen branches and stones.

 But little by little, 

as you left their voices behind,

 the stars began to burn 

through the sheets of clouds, 

and there was a new voice 

which you slowly recognized 

as your own, 

that kept you company 

as you strode 

deeper and deeper into the world 

determined to do the only thing you could do— 

determined to save the only life you could save.

Mary Oliver 

The perfect summation of why I need my Camino experience.
~~~~~~~~~~
May you also be blessed to know when
and how
to save your life!

The crippling 'I' factor

The pain was intense 

and persisted over several days; 

located directly below my knee 

on the back of my left leg

It didn't appear to be related to gait, 

hyperextension

or

over use;

although it did appear as I was making increased demands

on my body in terms of miles/distance walked.

It was unexpected and worrisome -

which is a mild way of putting it 

since I had images of a blood clot breaking off

from some artery in my leg 

and making its way directly to my lungs or heart!

(Oh come on, that I can be a drama queen 

should come as no surprise 

to any of you who know me!)) 

The pain wasn't disabling; 

it was just forcing me to go slower and to be more aware of my limitations.

(Two issues I struggle with and resist on a regular basis).

It wasn't as though I thought of using it as an excuse to stop my plans;

it did however serve as a powerful reminder 

that perhaps this whole journey 

was going to be more arduous and challenging 

than I'd let myself realize

in the earlier 'exciting' stages of planning.

It was while I was in church yesterday 

that I had some additional insight.

I realized how much the 'I' factor has been a predominant feature of my life 

for the past several months.

I'm training for the Camino,

I'm responding to Gods call to change my life,

I'm losing weight.

I'm getting stronger

I'm packing,

I'm planning,

I'm getting ready...

don't ask me precisely how -

but the pain in my leg brought back into sharp focus 

the reality that

 whatever I attempt to complete,

at any point in my life,

will only be accomplished 

through Gods grace

and with His help.

The prescription for this particular leg pain seemed to be
a little less I,
a little more humility

and a lot more awareness
of my dependence
on God.

The insight helped.

(As I'm sure did the ibuprofen and Arnicare gel -

but there's rarely only one way to treat what ails us, right?)

Grateful that the pain was noticeably less today.

A timely reminder from a friend -

7 weeks worth -

this is as streamlined as it gets.

Camino Packing List: 

Backpack – Osprey Kestrel 32L

 rain poncho 

Sunglasses

Hat w/brim

 waterproof gloves 

Wool skull cap

 Buff

Down sleeping bag

Microfiber travel towel

Down vest
Arcteryx coat/windbreaker (Good to 10 degrees;
can also be stuffed into one of its sleeves and used as a pillow)

2 underpants/2 bras 

1pr Smartwool socks
1 pr Darn Tough socks

2 pair sock liners
compression socks

Merrell walking shoes

Cobb Hill sandals
flip flops 

2 ExOfficio long pants
(can be rolled/snapped into capri length) 

 2 Long sleeve shirts 

 2 Short sleeve shirts 

2 bandanas 

 Base layer – Smart wool top/bottom (for sleeping and/or cold)

Small shampoo/conditioner/body wash 

sunscreen
Prescription medication
Comb
Foot Goo (similar to Glide)
Mascara/eyeliner (don't judge) 

 small packet Tide detergent 

Nail clippers 

Small bottle Contact solution
contacts 

Glasses 

Floss picks 

Toothbrush/travel size tooth paste 

Bandaids 

Needle/thread 

Safety pins – for hanging clothes to dry

Hiking poles

Camino credential 

Brierly guidebook 

Pocket Spanish dictionary 

Ipad mini w/charger  

camera 

Money belt 

Passport 

Tickets
Letters from friends

Credit card 

Debit card

Total weight - 18.5 lbs
Yesssss!

Necessary evil

I am NOT a casual traveler.

Oh wait,
maybe it's more accurate to say,
I'm not a casual flier.

Give me a car, the open road
with thousands of miles of countryside surrounding me
and I'm fine.

However, put me in a tin can in the sky, 

held up by God knows what, 

against all laws of nature, 

miles above the hard surface of the earth, 

at the whim of a potentially suicidal pilot, 

being just a heartbeat away from complete obliteration
in a foretaste of the Rapture - 

and there are no drugs on earth 

capable of quelling the anxiety.

Add to that,
the sour taste in my mouth
from the whole 'surveillance' process
before you can even get your ass in a cramped seat
on the flying machine of death
(including, but not limited to,
exposure to radiation and body searches -
and, I'm sorry,
but there's just something about the need to justify
every ounce of 'fluid'
that sets my ACLU card twitching in my wallet)
and you have the perfect storm
for making a perfectly horrid migraine!

The blinding realization that
I've not only brought all these indignities
on myself
by choosing to travel
but have spent hundreds of dollars
for the privilege of doing so
doesn't help!

I tolerate the process of flying
because it gets me to places I want to go.

But that doesn't mean I like it.

Not sure 'homeopathic' is going to cut it, but it's worth a shot, right?

And, if that doesn't work, Valium is a 'natural' ingredient too, isn't it?

Oh wait... wine is made from grapes... 
that's MUCH more natural!

Posted with Blogsy

Truth

I must have lied

I took an online quiz this morning to determine my 'spirit animal' -

 because, of course, these time sucks are authentic 

and scientifically based.

Imagine my surprise -

and delight -

when I got this result!

Your spirit animal is the Hummingbird 

Characteristics: 

Lightness of being, joy, independence, swiftness, resiliency

 

Spirit Animal Profile: 

The hummingbird spirit symbolizes the enjoyment of life 

and lightness of being. 

Those who have the hummingbird as a totem 

are invited to enjoy the sweetness of life, 

lift up negativity wherever it creeps in 

and express love more fully in their daily endeavors. 

This fascinating bird is capable of the most amazing feats 

despite its small size, 

such as traveling great distances 

or being able to fly backwards.

Oh, how I wish.

Truth be told,

my 'spirit animal' is this:

the Sloth.

Characteristics:

has almost perfected the art of laying around,

watching fingernails grow;

will occasionally get up to let the dogs out,

only because if I didn't,

they'd mess in the house -

which would involve work and cleaning it up!

~~~~~~~~~~

Training - 

and walking miles every day - 

 is going well
(considering the truth revealed above); 

even if its only my compression socks 

holding me up 

at the end of the day!

Only 3 more sessions with my personal trainer.

How did 10 months go by so quickly?

~~~~~~~~~~

Re-thinking the whole "not taking a sleeping bag"

as I read about the temp and SNOW in the elevations...

fine tuning the backpack contents will, 

no doubt, continue up until departure time.

Going to practice the packing this weekend!

Not a tourist

It was a distinction I made early on -

when my travel agent asked if I wanted more days in Paris,

at the start of the trip,

to sightsee
and adjust to the time difference.

It became clearer to me then.

No, I'm not going overseas this time as a tourist;

this truly is about being a pilgrim.

Pilgrimage in its truest sense 

is religiously motivated travel 

for the purpose of meeting and experiencing God, 

with hopes of being shaped and changed 

by that encounter.

I understand
 that you can meet God any and every where;

(although it may be more accurate to say

I believe God can find YOU anywhere).

For me, He's not found
only in certain places
or in certain forms.

And, while I will be seeing
 cities, churches, villages
and gorgeous vistas,
it's the journey itself that's the main event.

I can't remember who wrote:
Pilgrimage, after all, has no function other than itself; 

its means is as important as its end, 

it's process as its product. 

Its utility value is small, 

Its value intrinsic. 

It is something that is good to do 

because it is good to do. 

It states clearly that the extravagant gesture 

(because it is extravagant in terms of time and commitment) 

is an irrepressible part of what it means to be human 

and to walk on the earth. 

12 days and counting down...
before I join the millions of pilgrims
who have gone before.

Fifth time's the charm

Oh, New Balance, 

we came so close to having something beautiful.

I really thought you were it!

But you, heel -

there was still too much play.

I stepped up - and you didn't - once too often 

and it was over.

Then Merrell came along -

and I knew this was why I had waited.

The two of us cruised around town yesterday -

for hours -

with nary a complaint.

I've decided to take him to Spain!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

For the friend who observed that 

my quest for the 'perfect shoe' 

gave him insight into why I

 was still single after all these years

I can only reply -

I just want what I want -

and I'm willing to wait until I find it!

Besides

maybe the sister should have looked a little longer!
Just sayin'.

Reframe

I reminded myself she was playwright,
a writer,
as well as an actress – 

which explained why her descriptions were so vivid 

and articulately expressed.

In a recent BBC interview, 

Emma Thompson,
the British actress I loved so much in 

Much Ado about Nothing 

and
Sense and Sensibility,

was describing the process
of defining her characters, 

breathing life into them, 

making them real. 

She spoke of ’ ingesting’ all the information she could, 

'metabolizing it' to find what could feed the character, 

what was healthy and life giving –
and then excreting all that remained; 

letting go of all the sh*t she didn’t need.

I started laughing in the car, 

startling the dogs –

 although you’d think they’d be used to it by now. 

What a brilliant way for me
to reframe my walk on the Camino.

I’ve thought of it as 

running away, 

walking toward, 

a pilgrimage, 

a journey,

 a vision quest, 

a rite of passage 

and 

a metaphor. 

Now, 

with Emma’s carefully chosen words
resonating in my head, 

it’s also become a way
to re-set my metabolism. 

After decades of 'ingesting' all the
stories,
information,
opinions,
viewpoints
legalities,
and feelings
at work, 

I’ll have 500+ miles to sift through it all, 

find what’s healthy and life giving – 

and 'excrete' all the rest!

Well done, Emma.
Thank you!

Two schools of thought-

with each side having passionate and persuasive adherents.

One of the main Camino debates – 

boots vs athletic shoes.

I’ve been wavering between both, 

weighing the pros and cons; 

testing out different options

and have changed my mind, 

at least a dozen times.

The hiking boots that served me well 

(for far shorter distances in Scotland), 

were what I originally intended to use. 

They’re already broken in
and I know the weight and feel of them.

And that was one of the downsides –

I know the weight and feel of them – 

and the rather rigid leather backs 

hit my calf
inches above my ankle; 

just enough to be noticeable
and annoying. 

When an experienced pilgrim mentioned that when they got wet, 

they probably wouldn’t dry overnight – 

that clinched the deal.

So, I moved on to gortex athletic ‘trainers’ – 

and again -
struggled with the weight/cumbersomeness of them

even after logging some miles.

Not terrible but noticeable 

(kind of like Frankstein shoes) – 

since I’d been convinced to get them
½ - 1 size larger than usual
because of foot swelling and 'spreadage'.

Add to that the same concerns
about whether they’d dry when wet 

and whether the decidedly different shoe ‘laces’
(aka ripcords) 

would break in the middle of the trip,
leaving me stranded – 

and indecision again reigned.

But when both a Board member of the American Pilgrims on the Camino 

and two rock star peregrinos 

(folks who’d made the whole trek without a single blister) 

extolled the benefits of New Balance walking shoes – 

a brand I’ve used as ‘regular’ walking shoes for years – 

it was just the news I wanted to hear. 

Either that or I tend to pick the third option – 

not because its best or makes the most sense - 

but because I’m sick of being unsure 

and making a decision ends the internal drama!

Anyway, like any other decision in life, 

you make the best decision you can, 

given the information you have at the time – 

and you live with the consequences.

NO doubt there’ll be proponents of the hiking boot contingent, 

ready to tell me what a terrible mistake I’ve made.

I can live with that. 

If there’s one refrain I hear,
over and over, 

it’s that your Camino is YOUR Camino – 

not anyone else’s. 

In the end, you make decisions for yourself – 

and keep moving forward.

Walking with stones.

Its a Camino tradition, apparently,
to bring a stone from home on your journey;

a stone which you carry as you walk 

and into which you pray
your intentions and petitions.

Your stone is then placed at the foot of a cross
about two thirds of the way to Santiago-

Cruce de Ferro -
(Cross of Iron) -

and left behind as you continue your journey.

Few seem to know how old the actual iron cross there is, 

but there are hints in the literature that
the tradition itself is ancient. 

I have my stone selected.

It was made for me
by one of the first families 

I worked with in the PICU
(the Pediatric Intensive Care Unit).

It sat on my desk for 34 years;

it's heard all I've heard;

its been silent witness to moments of
ugliness,
lies,

morbid humor,
painful truths,

tears,
rage,

relief

and 

joy.

It's already tucked into 

a small space in my backpack.

I'm praying that 

by the time I place it at the foot of the cross,

I'll be ready to let go
of the pain from my work life;

 that what remains
will primarily be 

gratitude
and memories

that are easier to live with.

That's the hope anyway.

The Question

From all I've read, 

it seems to be the question that comes right after 

being asked your name and nationality - 

(No, St Louisans, not "What high school did you go to?",

although the intent behind the question 
might be similar... 

to categorize, 

to pigeonhole, 

to see what points of similarity or difference 

might exist between you and the 'other') -

WHY are you walking the Camino?

How much honesty do they want to hear?

How much honesty do I want to offer?

Would they accept - 

I don't know.

Because God told me to.

Because a spark got placed in my heart more than a decade ago 

and now I can't imagine my life not walking it.

Because I see dead people.

Because the face of the first child I worked with 

who died of abuse at the hands of his parents - 

in 1980 - 

is forever etched in my brain and heart -
along with the faces and stories of scores of others 
who have been beaten to death since then;

because back then I thought his death was an aberration - 

the type of death I would rarely have to deal with- 

never dreaming it would become a common occurrence. 

Because I'm haunted.

Because I have Secondary PTSD 

and  the broken bodies of children- 

and the accumulated sorrow of their stories-
keeps me awake at night.

Because my soul was dying.

Because I'm drowning in an ocean 
of the unshed tears 
I've accumulated

over three decades
of watching children get wounded and die
before their time.

Because I'm afraid I don't know how to live 
without being a pain sponge.

After much deliberation,

I think I'm going with

"I just retired and I'm trying to decide 

what to do with the rest of my life".

That's the truth too.

I'll save the rest for deeper conversations
with a select few 

and time alone with God...

What's in a number?

Those who know me 

know that numbers aren't my thing.

I can't translate kilometers to miles;

I don't know from sea level...

so looking at these elevation maps 

of the different stages of the Camino

means relatively little to me.

And, frankly, whether its up hill or flat out,

its all got to be taken one step at a time.

 However, looking at the first day on the trail,

I DO know straight up when I see it!

So I did what any thinking person, especially an old one, would do...

I decided to break the journey into two stages -

with an overnight stop at the ONLY refugio on the trail 

in Orisson.

Accommodation by reservation only.

Guess who got the last available bed for the night I need in April?

SCORE.

So far, so good!

On the second day - 

if I'm not dead -

I'll hopefully have my sea legs by then -

(are they still called that if you're walking over the Pyrenees?)

and be ready to take on the rest of the mountain...
OR

I can always pray that the 'Napoleon route' is closed

and I will have to be driven back down the mountain

and walk around it at the base

on the 'Valcarlos route'.

Learning the lessons of the Camino already - 

control what you can -

and leave the rest to chance 

and whatever God has planned!

You've got mail...

and I love it!

I recently asked a small circle of close friends and family

 to write, 

on a 3x5 card, 

words of encouragement 

that I can open and read for daily inspiration 

when the going on the Camino gets tough.

(Yes,  I'm willing to carry the extra weight; 

the words enclosed in the envelopes will, no doubt,

lighten my emotional burden enough 
to warrant the decision.)

The first ones arrived the other day -

on the same day as my Camino 'passport'!

Coincidence?

No, I didn't think so either!

It's getting VERY real!

Can I just mention that NOT opening the letters immediately
is a new form of spiritual discipline for me?

How wonderful to have a whole packet of presents
waiting to be discovered -
one every day -
as a reward 
for getting up
and trying to walk!

And God laughed...

It was a dream I want to remember.

In it, I was railing at God; 

really letting him have it –

and, yes, I do that a lot; 

don’t worry He can take it.

I was letting Him know about my insecurities, 

my fear for the future -

a future that HE turned upside down, BTW – 

and how scary it is that I’m being asked
to leave all that I’ve known 

for a future I can’t see; 

a future that’s so unformed
and nebulous.  

I was crying, 

lamenting about leaving my ‘dream job’… 

at which point God chuckled 

and responded – 

"Dream job? 

Child, you’ve got to dream bigger”.

I woke up smiling.

I want to remember that God sometimes loves us too much 

to leave us where we are.

He dreams bigger;

and, with His help, 

so can I.

It hit me like a wave...

sadness and an overwhelming sense of loss.

I was standing in the middle of the doctors conference room in the Emergency Department, 

laughing with physicians I've known for decades... 

about cases from years ago, 

different situations we'd found ourselves in, 

words and phrases we'd unexpectedly, and unfortunately, said or heard.

Tears were streaming down our faces - 

and in a moment of clarity, 

I realized mine were only partly based in humor.

It occurred to me that, in just a few months, 

the chance to be with these people - 

these funny, bright, sensitive, irreverent, talented, compassionate 

and, at times, totally inappropriate people - 

would be over.

There are so many things about retirement that appeal to me; 

so many things I'll be free to do... 

but there are so many other things I'll miss, 

so many things my daily life is built around now 

that even envisioning how life will be without them is painful to contemplate.

There are times it takes my breath away.

All changes, even the most longed for, have their melancholy; 

for what we leave behind us is a part of ourselves; 

we must die to one life before we can enter another.

Anatol France

Dying and letting go, even symbolically, is a hard process.

There are times it hurts.

A lot.

Proof

So much of my job is thankless… 

there is absolutely nothing to show at the end of the day
for what I’ve done.

I’m not lamenting… 

it’s the nature of the beast called Social Work – 

and much of life,
come to think of it.

Cleaning the house? 

It lasts about a day – 

then you have to do it again.

Doing dishes? 

How is it the dirty ones reproduce so quickly
just sitting on the counter?

Washing/ironing clothes? – 

the minute you take them off at night, 

the process starts again.

Getting your child through a crisis? 

Maybe things slow down while they sleep – 

assuming they do
and you can get some hours of sleep yourself;

then the sun comes up 

and the parenting drama begins again.

This cannot just be MY life… 

surely it’s the reality for many of you as well.

For me,
one of the attractive things about walking the Camino

is that, at the end of it,
 you get something tangible-  

a certificate – 

a Compostela.

The same worded- in- Latin- on- parchment document  

used by the Cathedral in Santiago 

since the medieval ages; 

proof positive that the holder is a bonafide pilgrim!

Upon arriving at your journeys starting point – 

in my case, St Jean - 

you register with the Pilgrim office and are issued a pilgrims passport; 

a folded document you carry with you at all times
since it entitles you to stay in a system of refugios/alberques (hostels).

Pilgrims get their passports ‘stamped’ at refugios 

and other places along the way (Cathedrals, cafes, City Halls etc) 

to document their progress across the country.

(It will also be a wonderful visual souvenir to look at in my old age -
when I’m confined to my scooter chair!)

In order to qualify for the 'Compostela', a pilgrim has to walk,
at least, 

the last 100 kms to Santiago;
that’s 62 miles.

(Yes, I know – 
I’m adding on 440 miles to get there 

and then going 50 miles beyond Santiago 

to the ‘end of the world  at Finisterre; 

I’m an overachiever, what can I say?)

According to the Pilgrim office in May (2013) 

which is the month, 

though obviously not the year 

I’ll be completing MY Camino, 

25,206 people claimed their compostela certificate
at the pilgrims office in Santiago.

46% were women; 54% men

13% were under 30,

 60% were aged 30-60 

and 27% were over 60.

32% were Spanish; 

68% classified as ‘foreigners’ 

(nationalities including 20% Germans, 10% French, 

9% Italians, 9% from UK, 6% Portuguese and 5% Irish.)

20% started in Sarria (a town approx 64 miles from Santiago) 

and 15% started in St Jean Pied de Port.

The rest started somewhere else along the way, 

frequently in Pamplona or Leon.

There are also many more pilgrims who, 

due to time constraints, 

walk only a section of the Camino in a year, 

then come back the next year to do another section. 

There are many more people walking the Camino 

than the number that actually present for the Compostela.

SO, 

for all my loved ones
thinking I’ll be all by myself on the Camino next spring… 

not so much.

While I might be in the minority for age, gender and nationality, 

I certainly won’t be alone!

And, for once,  I'll have proof when I get home!

Time to begin

If we wish to quench our thirst, 

we must lay aside books which explain thirst and take a drink.

Jean Pierre de Caussade

I tend to live in my head; 

not that it's not a fascinating place to be 

but sometimes you have to get out, 

actually breathe fresh air

and get moving!

I've read enough first person accounts about walking the Camino;

I  need to put down the books and get out there walking!!

Personal training is going well.

I feel stronger.

I've lost 30 lbs.

It's time to get serious about putting feet to pavement.

Personal Safety

I've been surprised by the number of people 

who have responded to my statement that

I'm walking the Camino ALONE 

by asking me if I'm taking a gun.

First of all, 

that is, sadly, 

SUCH an American response.

(It's also sad to realize that, as a single woman, 
I feel safer about walking in Spain alone,
than I ever would about walking the Appalachian Trail - 

because I honestly think this country, 

and a sizable portion of the people in it, 

have gone round the bend.)

Second,

3 letters -

TSA

Third,

Hello, 

do you even KNOW me?

Fourth,

as a Social Worker in the ED, 

I am the person 

telling parents they're not taking their child home with them; 

informing them there will be parallel investigations 

by the State Protective Services and police 

because of our concerns about how they're parenting; 

answering in the affirmative when they ask
if they could lose custody of their baby.

I've been the one to call 'bullshit' on their explanations of how their child got injured.

I work in an urban ER,

in the middle of one of the most homicide ridden cities in the country,

serving the exact adolescent populations that are killing each other off 

with astonishing determination and focus.

Yet, I work everyday 

unprotected

by either metal detectors, 

effective screening

or Security Guards 

under the age of, oh, I don't know,

 "older than dirt".

Over the decades,
I've been threatened 

at knifepoint, 

with lawsuits,
bombs under my car,
death,
hexes,
voodoo curses 

and

by people who are carrying guns 

(though, thankfully, not drawn).

If personal safety was the prime consideration for any of us working at my facility,

the ER would be unstaffed!

I'm walking the Camino, in part, 

to throw myself on the mercy of the universe;

to relearn-

 (ok, for those of you who know my family of origin -

maybe learn for the first time) -

that the world is filled with people who can be trusted; 

that if I need something, I can ask for it 

and the world, 

or others on my path,

or God, 

will provide -

be 'it' shelter, directions, food, 

aspirin, Compeed for my blisters,

companionship, a sympathetic ear...

whatever.

I can't learn that if I've got 'buffers';

barriers that prevent me from being exquisitely vulnerable.

I'm convinced that my goal for this stage of life 

is learning to be 'undefended';

relinquishing control, 

becoming more open...

and a gun isn't the means to achieve that.

So, no, dear hearts, I won't be armed on the Camino -

and that's a good thing.
Though I appreciate your concern for my well being.

Besides, if I die on the Camino, 

well,

a) we all have to die somewhere of something

and

b) it will save me from a retirement of penury 

and eating cat food straight from the tins.

I'm good with whatever comes 
after the Camino-

except maybe that.