Only a few more days and I will be on my way to Portugal, the land of the most friendly and beautiful people I have so far experienced in my life.
The yearning for some Camino boots
Only a few more days and I will be on my way to Portugal, the land of the most friendly and beautiful people I have so far experienced in my life. It probably will be a very special journey this time and still, I do not have a clue, as to what that journey will be. I am going to walk from Port to Santiago de Compostela and then onward to Finisterre and back via Muxia to Santiago. Around 400 Kilometers.
This time I am going to walk alone, even though this is never absolutely true. People will come my way or I may come their way. Walking the Camino is most of the time a walk of connection. Connecting to every step I take, the stuff I think or feel, the people I meet, the bench I am sitting on or the bed I am laying in. In this oneness of connection, there never is a moment of not being here, even though I might not realise them.
For many years, I have been walking with groups, leading them through mindfulness practice to a more connected life. This time, there is this soft calling in me to walk this way alone. Just here, my pack and the way. Nothing else needed. Life or the Camino, which sort of stands for Life, will provide. Just yesterday, still being here in Germany I had a very engaging conversation with a friend about what it means to live on the edge of primordial trust. Can I trust everything and is it worth it looking for a life, that is sort of carried by the winds of trusting the deep stuff inside? Well yeah, it is worth it but only if we do not make a thing out of it. I for one cannot see, how trusting can be learned when the one wanting to learn is expecting a particular change so that perhaps life might be that bit easier. It is almost impossible to explain it, as this type of trust is a given, like a god-given gift to humanity. We do not need to think about it, we just let yourself fall into it. It’s that trust of which we know, that it carries me like a riverbed would lead the stream of water to the ocean. The river just flows trusting in the pathed way, moment by moment. It does not know any turn it just knows its flowing.
In two days goes my flight. Portugal is expecting me. So, let’s see if I can satisfy its yearning for some Camino boots. Or is it rather the longing of the pilgrim, wanting to leave its footprints on the dusty paths to Santiago. We will see…
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