The Little Things that make our Days…

So, I’ve been feeling a little restless during the last few weeks. Not an uncommon feeling for me. And, because of the beautiful way in which my life has unfolded up to this point…and the inseparable part that the Camino de Santiago has played in that process, I’ve been feeling a call to walk the Camino again.

Anyone who’s done it, or longs to do it, will know that feelng very well.

But there are a few real-world, practical things that make walking the Camino at the moment not only complicated, but also unwise. Partly financial – it costs money to walk the Camino for any period of time and I’m currently being ultra-responsible about the money I’m fortunate enough to have. Partly physical – I’ve been dealing with related knee, calf and foot issues for a few weeks now, to the extent that I’ve had to stop my early-morning walks, which I love and miss, but which I know is the wise choice, if I want to avoid longer-term, longer-lasting injury.

But the restlessness is there, and the call feels strong and, blessed as I am with the friends I have, talking this over briefly with a friend at the weekend helped me to gain some perspective about what’s going on inside.

To some extent it’s a way of turning away from – walking away from – a way of living from day-to-day that doesn’t activate my sense of feeling truly alive, truly open to the unexpected, and curious about how I will confront it and deal with it.

The Camino is full of daily encounters that are unexpected and, being so, it’s naturally infused with Life and all its unpredictable possibility. It’s full of opportunities to meet people who are totally different from ourselves…and to find the commonality between us, in spite of all that difference. It feeds the body, the mind, the heart and the soul on a daily basis, with its stunning landscape, its ties to the past, its undeniable spiritual energy, and its capacity to heal inner wounds…by showing us clearly the part we play in helping to create them. And it has a way of bringing us face-to-face with our inner selves, our prejudices, our assumptions about what is possible and what is not, and of setting light to them, right before our eyes.

In short, the Camino experience is something that it’s almost impossible to describe to someone else…despite the fact that we feel compelled to keep on trying…it’s true that it’s something that must be experienced for yourself. And, for all those reasons, it’s not surprising that it calls to us – above the noise of daily routine and small responsibilities – and quietly whispers “Come back to me for a time, as a way of coming back to yourself“.

But, as I’ve already said, despite that whisper and that call, I know that now is not the time. Even though a large part of me would dearly like it to be. And, as we’re used to saying to downhearted pilgrims (because they´ve had to abandon their Caminos for unexpected injury or personal reasons):

“The Camino isn’t going anywhere. It’s been here for thousands of years and it will still be here, waiting for you, when the time is right and you´re really ready to return.“

So, that’s all preamble and scene-setting really, for what motivated me to write this blog post today. The thing that spurred me to post again was a curious thing that happened when I went to open the church yesterday (as I´m privileged and happy to do each day).

When I went to the office of the Parish House (where the church key is kept overnight) something in the waste paper basket caught my eye as I was leaving. I pulled it out and discovered it was this:

It’ s clearly from a shoebox, presumably containing new walking shoes or trainers that a passing pilgrim felt compelled to buy in Logroño, in order to continue their Camino. What was curious to me was that someone took the trouble to tear if off, cut it to size and keep it…and that it then ended up in the bin. Ours is not to reason why…I believe…but rather to just give thanks for the little coincidences and messages that appear in our day-to-day experience and to interpret them for ourselves.

The second curious thing that happened was…after opening the church, turning on all the lights, replacing the burned-out candles, and then gathering my things to leave…I saw that a swallow had someone entered (goodness only knows how and from where) and was flying round and round inside the large interior, presumably seeking a way out.

Groups of swallows circle the church all day long, but especially at dawn and at dusk. They swoop and they dive, and they call, in all their joyfulness, announcing their wonder and their sheer delight at being alive and at being able to fly. I love to stand and watch them because their energy is so uplifting and infectious that it fills me with delight as well. But this swallow was inside, in the half-light and limited walls of the church, and it disturbed me. I wanted to help it find its way out, to the wider sky and heavens above, back to where it belongs.

So I opened the larger, wider, outer-doors of the church, turned off all the lights, and then sat patiently for 30 minutes, hoping that it would find its way to freedom. But it circled and it circled and, occasionally, it bumped into a wall. And then I realised “It found its way in and, by the Grace of God, it will find its way out…or not. We can´t solve all the problems, or save the lives of others. Each life has its own Camino and that camino is between each living being and God alone. Something that we must honour and respect.” So I closed the doors and I turned on the lights again, and I left. And, when I returned later in the day and took a moment to stand and watch inside, I saw that the swallow had, indeed, gone.

Maybe this restlessness that we all feel at times, this desire to distance ourselves from the daily repetition and routine, is really just a call from somewhere deep inside us saying:

“You’ve strayed off your soul path a little – allowed your true nature, which resides within your soul, to become too constrained. Focus on the little things, do them in your own way and at your own pace, and this – alone – will refresh you, and will help to guide your restless walking shoes back onto the right path.”