On the Camino Todo es Regalo

_{The old pilgrim}

On the Camino, everything was a gift. Once I slowed my step enough to see and pay attention with the eyes of the heart.

It’s true that, in the scheme of things, I walked a short distance. Some may say it doesn’t count. Yet my experience on El Camino de Santiago in Spain clearly revealed insights and gifts of the Holy One that tell me otherwise.

For now, I simply want to saborear los regalos. Savor the gifts.

Right from the get-go, I had to remind myself of my intention to put down my expectations and preferences. Amidst the messiness of 13 people traveling together, many opportunities arose to practice such an intention. True, it was challenging. But, as I kept pausing and paying attention, I began to notice the gifts.

On the first morning, our group left early in a frenzy of chatter and anticipation, only to arrive at our preordained destination before noon. That was my sign that I needed to do this differently. I began to hang back, start out a little later, a little slower, and alone. The contemplative in me needed that space for quiet reflection and the opportunity to be more present.

Not only did I better notice and appreciate the abundance of beauty arising around me, I was becoming more aware of what was arising within me. And it wasn’t always pretty.

Sometimes a feeling of irritability or judgment would show up, and I’d recognize myself in someone else. Rather than go down the path of defensiveness, pride, or shame, I would observe it and remember my mantra: “not my will but yours be done.” To me, that simply means that I accept what is in front of me, what I cannot control, what is not in my hands.

On the Camino I carried Mirabai Starr’s pocket-sized book on St. Teresa of Avila, “Passionate Mystic.” I’d planned my journey to end with a short train ride from Madrid to Avila where I would visit the birthplace and sacred sites of this visionary nun, a religious reformer of the 16th century. Intelligent, independent, sensible, and very human, Teresa offers wise guidance for contemplation and action in daily life. She stresses that self-inquiry and self-knowledge are key on the spiritual path.

Following her guidance over the years, I’ve discovered that the greatest gift is to honestly meet myself on the road and accept all the parts of my precious human existence, knowing that I don’t need to be perfect.

It’s humbling. But so freeing.

Because it reminds me of my need for God. My need to put all my failings, shortcomings, and missteps into the hands of the Source of Love.

As the days passed, I discovered a lightness in my step. I learned to accept all my “missteps,” like the day I took an unnecessary 2 ½ hour uphill climb to the wrong albergue, dragging an unknowing friend along with me. But when we discovered my mistake, my friend not only wasn’t upset with me, we both appreciated the gift we’d been given in getting to know each other through our intimate conversation along the way. A conversation we would never have had if the walk had been short.

Daily, I noticed such gifts as I practiced putting down my preferences and picking up my mantra. These are just a taste:

• The young Italian couple that invited me to join them for dinner one evening and the wonderful conversation that ensued.
• A vivid dream and reminder from David that I’m not alone.
• The fantastic caldo (homemade soup) I stumbled upon when I stopped for lunch after mistakenly walking beyond my stopping point. And the pilgrim who donated her copy of a guide to the Camino when I told her I’d like to return. I never asked her for it; she simply offered it.
• Getting to know my companion Bonnie as we accompanied one another on our way to the Cathedral of Santiago de Compostela.
• Making it to the cathedral in time for the pilgrim’s mass and witnessing the moving surprise ritual of the Botafumeiro swinging with incense up the aisle where we were standing.
• In Avila, I’d spent all my euros and a shopkeeper couldn’t accept my credit card to purchase a couple of items dedicated to St. Teresa. I left disappointed, but once on the street, a young woman came running after me with two special cards of St. Teresa’s famous prayer, a gift from the shopkeeper.
• At the last minute, I had discovered and procured a room at an albergue located on the site of Teresa’s birthplace. The roses in the garden produced an exceptional aroma, a sweetness I’d never experienced and could imagine came directly from heaven.

• Being given a copy of “The Beatitudes of the Pilgrim,” which rang true as I reflected on them. These three are my favorite:

Blessed are you, pilgrim, when you lack words to express your gratitude for all that surprises you at every turn of the road.

Blessed are you, pilgrim, if on the way you meet yourself and give yourself time without haste so as not to neglect your heart.

Blessed are you, pilgrim, if you discover that the road has much to do with silence, and silence with prayer, and prayer with the encounter with the God of Love who awaits you.

My gifts from the Avila shopkeeper

Yes, the Beloved did await me. Ever present. Never changing. Simply waiting for me to pay attention.

_{“Keep walking, keep singing, keep praying, keep trusting, keep on letting go into Love.”}