July 15 in Sahagun, then to Leon

Stupid Camino.

Stupìd, unbending, unyielding, rigid Camino.

Stupid, unbending, unyielding, rigid, inflexible, stiff-necked, proud, clobber-headed Camino!

Oh wait. That´s not the Camino. That would, in point of fact, be (sigh) me.

Yeah, the last few days have not been at all what I planned. As I mentioned earlier, I got shinsplints going into Burgos, and they haven´t been improving. I have been completely taken aback by this; after almost two weeks of some pretty rugged hiking and pretty challenging terrain, I just couldn´t accept that I had suffered an injury on a long straight walk that was just boring.

I kept thinking it would get better in a day. Or so. It didn´t.

After all those tears the day we left Burgos, taking over 3 hours to to 10 k to Tardajos, we took the bus on to Castrojeritz, where we did indeed finally get a bed even though it was in some question at first. Niles and Em and I talked over the options, and decided they would walk the next day to Fromista while I rested at Castrojeriz and caught the 6:30 p.m. bus to meet them.

Then we went to bed. Then I woke up--angry. I wanted to walk. I thought if maybe I just lightened my pack some, gave some gear to Niles and Em and took it slow, I could still pull this off. So I asked them to take some of my stuff (even though we had already agreed I would bus that day), and they looked at me like I was nuts and gave me the stuff they didn´t want to carry instead.

I did not take this well. They insisted, "We are not comfortable with you walking today." "Fine," I said. "Give me your stuff." While in my head I was saying, "And in an hour I´ll just follow you at my own pace." Right. With a pack that now weighs even more, and a shin that still hurts like billy-oh. (A favorite phrase of mine from C.S. Lewis when I know I shouldn´t say what I really feel like saying....)

So they left. And I felt like...well...billy-oh. I didn´t know anyone in the albergue we were in (and they all left early as well anyway); we´d left all our friends behind when we caught the bus the day before. I didn´t have anyone to talk to, and I had 12 hours to kill, and I felt--wow--really, really bad.

You have to clear out of the albergues by 8 at the latest, so they can clean for the day´s next influx of pilgrims. So I headed out the door, wondering where I was going to go in this very small village. The hostess told me there was a very nice taverna down the street that was already open, and I could get breakfast there.

So I went, and found an outlet to charge my phone, and sat down wondering what I was going to do for the next many hours. I was only there about an hour and a half when Aisling walked in--one of my Camino friends from the last week-plus. She had already walked to Castrojeriz by 10:30 and was thinking about stopping for the day, so she sat down with me. She said, "How you doing?"

Yeah--way to make me cry, Aisling!

Obviously, I was pretty much a mess. I couldn´t hold it together past a simple greeting. So she sat with me, and listened, and we talked for the next several hours. It struck me how different this was from what I planned; here was this young woman in her early 20´s comforting the 53-year-old spiritual guide. Right.

See, I knew that the Camino would not bring me what I expected. I knew I had to be ready to "lay everything down" and accept what came. I knew I couldn´t count on following my agenda. I knew I needed to know all these things. And I did! I told some folks before I left that one of the things I felt was important was the opportunity to--just for a while--lay everyone else´s pain down and just walk with mine.

Yeah, that´s going well. Turns out I hate my pain.

And a big part of the pain I hate is knowing I have to let go of my expectations, and then being unwilling to actually do it. I´ve discovered that gap between knowing what you need to do, and doing what you need to do. Somewhere in the middle is all that self-delusion.

I want to be the awesome, slightly-older-than-average female pastor who takes on a tremendous challenge, and suffers pain for it, but still pulls through! ("See the Amazing Limping Woman! She´s Courageous! She´s Cool! She´s an Inspiration to Everyone She Meets!") OK, maybe I´m being a little hard on myself, here. I don´t think my self-expectations were actually that high or unrealistic. But it feels like it, sometimes.

I did, however, really really really want to be able to walk the whole Camino. And I can´t. I overestimated what I can carry, and how quickly I can recover--and how gracefully I can accept my own disappointment. I got angry when Niles and Emlyn left, and they could tell. (They could also tell I was thinking I´d just leave after them, and when they broke for breakfast they actually waited an hour to see if I would show up. Fortunately the Holy Spirit smacked me into somewhat better self-awareness before I did anything that stupid.)

When Aisling showed up, it was like a gift from God. I needed the friendship and gentle, simple, easy conversation that came with her encouragment. She wasn´t heavy-handed with advice. She just shared the journey with me, and we had more time to talk then we´d had before. It was such a blessing.

About the time we broke for lunch, several other "Camino Friends" had shown up, and I joined them for lunch. A good part of the conversation (with several people much younger than I) was how we were going to manage this with our injuries. Some folks were sending their packs ahead and walking with only water. Others were taking very, very short days. I realized again how willing I was to accept their limitations without judgement. Hmmm.....

Kyle and Jess and I wandered down the street to buy Kyle a 20-liter pack, which he thought might be so light he could actually carry it. The very lovely, older proprioter was very eager to help us, but didn´t seem to understand that repeating Spanish even more rapidly every time we misunderstood wouldn´t be all that helpful for us. But we finally got it sorted. Kyle got a pack and small water bladder, Jess started to buy liner socks (she lost one) but Kyle told her he was going to send some home but he´d give them to her instead, and I got company and reassurance that we´re all just doing what we can. And If I´d walked on with Niles and Emlyn, I wouldn´t have been so cared for by these people who really don´t know me and don´t need to be so nice to me--but they do anyway.

The hostess at the albergue--a Czech woman who speaks even less Spanish than English--had told me I could come back for a massage for my shinsplints. I couldn´t quite understand her name, but she had left a career in banking (much to her parents´horror) to begin serving in albergues 13 years ago. When I stopped back by the albergue in the afternoon, she actually had a massage table set up. She put on quiet music, and worked on my feed and lower legs for almost an hour--all the while talking gently, telling me that I have to be flexible. The Camino is the Camino--it´s not my plan, or the walking schedule, or anyone´s expectations. It´s just the Camino, and everything one finds no matter where one is along the way.

I knew this. But I forget.

She reminded me that God intends that we listen to our bodies, because God speaks to us not only through others, but also through our own selves. She reminded me that when my body is telling me to slow down, that means God is also telling me to slow down. She told me to relax and accept the pain I was feeling, and care for it.

Breathe....

As she finished working on each leg, she would take my foot in her hand and just hold it. I could feel the prayer in her hands.

If I had walked on with Niles and Emlyn, I would have missed this ministry, this blessing.

During the course of our conversation (we continued talking for almost an hour after she finished the massage), she also said to me (with tears in her eyes), that it had been very important for her as well to talk to me. (I had told her earlier than I am a pastor, to which she had replied, "Ah, now I understand.") She said that so often in the church, she had only encountered priests or pastors who can´t seem to wait to get through the service, and who speak the prayers and liturgy in a monotone. These spiritual leaders had taken exception to her ministry of serving and healing, pretty much indicating that what she was doing wasn´t valid, or part of serving God. On the Camino, however, she had the chance to meet pastors and priests who affirmed her service, and her gift--and she needed, in some way, to hear that from the Church. It meant a great deal to her to have a pastor thank her for her ministry--to in fact, need her ministry.

We all need our ministries to be needed.

Afterward, it was time for me to head to the bus stop. I got a little confused about directions, and had to ask a lovely older gentleman who showed me the way and then desired to receive my thanks with a kiss. (I managed to give him my cheek just in time to avoid the full-on expression of gratitude.)

When I got to Fromista, Niles and Emlyn were waiting for me at the bus stop. Another blessing! They had had a great day, and I was so glad to see them. I apologized immediately for my attitude that morning, and they accepted with grace. We were at a beautiful albergue--a private one that cost no more than the municipal one--and felt very comfortable there. We went out for dinner and had a great time, and some of the most relaxed and enjoyable conversation we´d had in a long time. The day was very good for all of us.

The next morning we looked at the schedule and realized we needed to take the train to Sahagun. I still wasn´t ready to walk, and it was too far for Niles and Em to be able to make it by today, when we meet Marty. So we travelled by train and again checked into a private algergue. This one seems fairly new, and is in the back of a bar/restaurant (across an alley in the back). We were the only ones there, which meant a lovely quiet night. But the atmosphere was just off somehow. Not long after we checked in, we got to listen to what sounded like a loud and long argument between the owner and family or staff. No one seemed particularly glad to see us, and they made no effort whatsoever to help us understand what they were trying to tell us. So we left early this morning, and have spend the day sitting around cafes until Marty´s train arrives at 1:20 today.

Obviously, after looking around for a day, I finally found a cafe with computers--hence the blog today. Now it´s time for lunch, and we´ll meet Marty, who has had a somewhat stressful trip. He had 7 hours between his flight landing in Paris and needing to catch the train, which we thought was a great safety net. But the flight was weather delayed, and he missed the train and had to book another ticket. Pretty expensive delay, but we´ll manage.

We´ll go on to Leon by train this afternoon, and then have some flexibility to take half days or rest days and still get into Santiago in plenty of time. Or maybe we´ll take the bus if we feel like it. But Niles and Em and I are missing the routine of walking, and my leg is definitely feeling better today. So am I, come to think of it.

God is good. And a heck of a lot smarter than I am.

Thanks for all the notes of encouragment, and all the prayers. I am indeed leaning on them! Blessings on your day.