(I wrote this post shortly after my first Camino experience, May 2019)
My snoring Bulgarian roommate was up early, as was I. In a common sitting area away from our other roommates who were still asleep, I was going through my foot care routine as he was chatting with me about American politics.
When I finished getting my boots on, I politely wrapped up our conversation and told this pilgrim that I was leaving. I mentioned that it had been nice meeting him and that perhaps I would see him and his wife again on the path. This prompted a strong complaint from the man- grumbling that he wished he was walking alone, that his wife was so slow and that she always wanted to stop along the way when she found something of interest. He just wanted to walk his own pace and get to the next albergue earlier in the day.
I pondered his words as I walked out onto the path this morning. The first day of my walk, I had met an Australian woman named Geri who was walking alone. She and I walked together for a spell, and I learned that she was actually doing the entire French Route with her boyfriend, but because they couldn’t get in sync with their pace of walking, they each walked alone. He walked on ahead of Geri each day, and they met at their albergue for the night.
Honestly, I was bothered by that. That may have worked really well for them, but it made me a bit sad. Perhaps because I looked back at my own life and could see where I had failed to slow down and adjust my pace of life to that of loved ones. Speed of life and focus on tasks and destinations too often had caused me to miss so many gifts and lessons, so much life and relationship, along the path.
The Camino has many lessons for the pilgrim. A persistent lesson that was evident on my Camino was that of SLOWING. Slow the heck down. Live in the present. Be present. Connect with God, yourself, the earth, your neighbor. Stop obsessing about the future and some elusive destination on ahead.
One of my favorite books on the Camino experience is a book called Walk in a Relaxed Manner, written by Joyce Rupp. She has a whole chapter about slowing, and writes, “I discovered during my days as a pilgrim that I could not be at peace unless I walked in a relaxed manner both internally and externally. I had to come to terms with why I felt a need to push, to rush, and always give too much time to getting somewhere and doing something.”
If you’re always racing to the next moment, what happens to the one you’re in? -Nanette Mathews
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