Camino Day 9

Camino Day 9 October 11
Vilanova de Arousa - Padron (by boat 28 km/17.4 mi)

Today is an unusual day for Camino. Today, while the interior work continues, we have a more physically, restful, relaxed day here in Vilanova de Arousa.

I've just returned from our interior work session in which we read and reflected on These words of wisdom from Natalie Goldberg

"Whether we know it or not, we transmit the presence of everyone we have ever known, as though by being in each other's presence we exchange our cells, pass on some life force, and then we go on carrying that other person in our body, not unlike the springtime when certain plants in fields we walk through attach their seeds in the form of small burrs to our socks, our pants, our caps, as if to say, "Go on, take us with you, carry us to root in another place" . . . This is why it is important who we become - because we pass it on."

That last line hit me. Hard. It found some place in me that has been longing for forgiveness - seeking forgiveness - from myself and others I have hurt (intentionally and unintentionally, knowingly and unknowingly, some I remember and others I simply can't, no matter how hard I try) and broke it open.

"This is why it is important who we become - because we pass it on."

There is an awesome responsibility in the sometimes randomness of who we are and who we are becoming. It requires living with greater intentionality rather than "dancing through life" like Fiyero, the character in Wicked.

There have been times in my life - perhaps yours, as well - when my preferred mode of being was with "eyes wide shut". I know, that's the title of the Kubrick movie which generally came to mean not recognizing or accepting the fullness of a woman's sexuality. But, the term means so much more than the sensationalized, "erotic thriller" movie version.

Eyes wide shut in the more expansive application means that a person refuses to see something in plain view, because of preconceived notions of what this something should look like.

Sometimes, this is used to describe a person who is naive. And, that may be the case in some situations. At a certain point, I was quite naive. And then, I wasn't. And yet, I still refused to see what was in plain view because I had been carefully taught - and carelessly accepted - what things should look like or be or become.

In the process, people were hurt. I did great damage to my self. To my authentic self. To my integrity. To my own soul.

However, as I discovered, telling the truth about yourself - your authentic self - is very expensive. It can cost you your life. The life you had carefully planned out. The love you thought you had from others - family and friends.

There were several times when I was lost on this Camino - twice yesterday on the beautiful "Road of Water and Rocks". Both times, there was a fork in the road and no yellow arrow to show me the way.

The first time, I encountered a local woman who was crossing the bridge. "Camino aqui?" I asked. She smiled gently and said, in Spanish, pointing to both roads, "Yes, here. And, there."

I looked at here puzzled. I understood what she said but, despite all my work, all my preparation, I was still seeing The Camino with Eyes Wide Shut. I refused to see what was in plain view - that there can be may paths but one way to Camino.

She looked at me kindly, pointed to the bridge, and said, "Aqui. Aqui. Es mas facil asi." And, when I looked up, I saw that the road to the right was steeper and rockier. She was right. The road to the left, over the bridge, was much easier.

The second time was deep in the woods. Again, another crossroad. This time, it was through the ruin of a water house. The path to the left lead down and seemed to follow the river. The path to the right lead up and I could not see what was beyond. Again, there were no yellow arrows to help me decide.

I waited about 5 minutes, hoping for another Perigrino to walk by. No one came. I kept looking around for a sign but found none.

Finally, I called Marco, one of our guides. I tried to explain where I was but Marco wasn't getting the image. "Look up, Elisabeth. Look up. What do you see?"

I thought, "Look up? I want to look down for an arrow, don't I? I want to see what's in front of me, right? What's ahead?"

But, I looked up. And, there, on a tree to my left, high above my head, someone had removed part of the bark of the tree and spray-painted a yellow arrow, pointing to the right.

"I see it," I said, "there it is! Up there! On the tree! A yellow arrow."

"Ah," said Marco, "and now you see: When you are on Camino and you are lost or think you are lost, look up. When you are on Camino and you are lost, the answer will not come from below. When you are on Camino and you are lost, the answer will not always be right in front of you. When you are on Camino and you are lost, always look up. When you are on Camino, the answer will always come from above."

So, this Camino day is the day for me to look up. I'm about to wander around the town and maybe do some shopping. At three o'clock we meet in the lobby to take the ferry to Padron, the place where the disciples of St. James took his remains to be buried, eventually, in the place called Santiago de Compostella.

I recently learned from a casual conversation with a woman from Belgium in Pontevedra that, although people assume that Compostella refers to "The Way of the Stars" that guided so many Peregrino, it may actually mean a "garbage heap" - from "compost" - on which the stars shone. The disciples of St. James may have buried his remains in the town dump to ensure that they would never be found.

Eyes Wide Shut.

Off I go, then. I do have another insight about the relationship between forgiveness and love but I will save that for another time. This is enough for now. Now is for walking around town and down to the water.

Now is for continuing to pick up all the pieces of my life and becoming more of who I am. Because we pass it on.

Buen Camino.