The Camino is teaching me to trust.
Every day I trust in the strength of my feet and my legs and my back to work harder than they ever have before, and the power of my mind to push me forward when it’s 2PM and I’m 25 kilometers in and I just want to lay down in the Spanish sun and die.
I trust in my friends to share fresh bread and laundry duty and wine and shampoo and stories, and to reserve beds and give encouragement and trade massages.
And I trust in The Way. That I will always find a clean place to sleep and a hot meal to eat and that next yellow arrow pointing me in the right direction even in the half-darkness of 6:30AM.
This week has been a test in forgiveness. And I am trying, trying, trying to learn to let go—and realizing that this may be the hardest and most important lesson of all.
I have walked almost 400 kilometers in 14 days, but I am still full of impossibly high expectations and stale anger—toward myself and some of those I left behind.
But as I stare up at the magnificence of the Burgos Cathedral and realize what it must have taken to create it, or breathe in the wonder of the expansive early morning stars in rural Spain… I have to think that these sour feelings I am holding on to are a bit silly—and that trust must also include forgiveness. Which I think is the first step, at least. And so I keep moving forward.