Villambistia

7pm

Casa de los Deseos

Another 25km day! Feelin really proud of us. We got a decently early start, and walked about 4.5km to stop for breakfast and coffee in Redecilla del Camino. It’s a little pathetic how much coffee impacts my mood, but it’s who I am! Might as well use it as an excuse to feed the beast of caffeine addiction. Right?

At one point this morning I realized I needed to pay my utility bill. No problem, I can do it online. So here I am, walking through the Spanish countryside, paying a bill. This little slice of my typical reality really slapped me in the face HARD. I was sent into a momentary panic tailspin of worry, and it was all too familiar and yet distant at the same time. Anxiety is a HUGE part of my life. And it’s a huge part of my life because it’s a huge part of ME. On this trip, I can count on only a couple fingers the number of times I have even felt stressed. Please believe me when I tell you, this is a miracle. It just doesn’t happen. So when my familiar friend Anxiety and her Mood Monster minions crept in after this normal task of adulthood, it hit me fast and it hit me hard. I was overcome with worry about all the typical things that adults worry about. Money. Goals. Relationships. Career paths. It was just a moment, but it was so out of the clear blue. Why oh WHY does this have to happen now??? I’m supposed to be in zen mode! But of course, all I had to do was bring up this worry to my dad, who said in his ever-calm tone, "Will worrying help?" 

No.

Of course, no. 

It’s easier said than done to just shut the worry off, obviously, but NO it doesn’t help. And I sure as HELL ain’t gonna let it keep me from living this experience to its very fullest. The truth is, I’m FINE. I’m more than fine. I’m well aware that taking a nearly 2-month trip to Europe makes me real, real lucky. I get it. 

One thing this trip has done is give me nothing but time to think. And think, and think, and think. I am such a self-distractor back home. If I’m driving/cooking/walking/showering/ANYthing, I’m listening to a podcast or an audiobook or my latest favorite music. Heaven forbid there be silence, or an opportunity to become bored. Boredom breeds anxiety. No time for that. 

Out here, it’s me. My feet and my legs and my mind and ME. And we have had a lot more time to get to know each other these last couple weeks. And you know what? I’ve heard a lot more birds, and frogs, and locusts, and leaves in the breeze, and the crunching of rocks (and one snail, RIP little guy, I’ll never forgive myself) under my feet. My mind is never silent, but it’s also quieted down quite a bit without the overstimulation with which I have unknowingly been plaguing myself. I reach information overload MUCH less frequently. But it’s also sometimes HARD. Because the other side of giving air time to your thoughts is remembering pain. Heartache. Heartbreak. Fear. Longing. Insecurities. They creep in as well. But I am learning myself well enough to recognize and invite them in. You say YOUR piece, and leave me in MY peace. I’m not great at it, but GOSH I think I’m getting almost good. I would challenge anyone to get outside, don’t take headphones, and just go. Just walk. The standard checklist and worry will creep up. Pull up a chair and invite it to stay. Say, "Hey, what brings you here?" And I bet you’ll find it’s not as scary as you think. 

[And if it is that scary, if it brings you to your knees and doesn’t let up, don’t tread that water alone... call a loved one, find a counselor, start on medication, call the suicide prevention hotline at 1-800-273-8255]

Whew, I didn’t anticipate this getting that heavy, but that’s life isn’t it?

Once I allowed the worry to move through me and got back into the Camino zone, it was just the pavement and me again. We continued on through a handful of adorable towns on our way today, one in which we stopped for a quick picnic table break in a cute little park where I found swings! It was a welcome break from the repetitive motion of foot on pavement that we started with today, and I’ve always loved a good swing set.  

We also met Fausto. Fausto will be 95 years old on July 17. I know this because he noticed two peregrinos (us) enjoying our little picnic in the park and walked right over to say hello. He rattled off some VERY fast and slurred Spanish, and I caught maybe every 4th word. I explained (in my MINIMAL and probably very American sounding Spanish) that we do not know very much of the language. He laughed happily and kept trying, motioning with his hands to help him explain. We learned his wife was in church down the road, and that he is approaching his 95th birthday in less than two weeks. He even got out his ID to show me the proof. "Mira, es verdad!" Fausto was an absolute gem, and a perfect example of the things you miss if you move too quickly through life and distract yourself along the way. And I am so glad we met him. 

As we approached Belorado, where we were planning on eating lunch, I heard my dad a few paces behind me say to a pilgrim next to him, "Hi, how are you?" This was a little unusual, not because my dad doesn’t typically ask these types of questions (because he does), but on the trail it’s generally a quick, "Hola, buen camino!" to everyone, no matter what language we all speak. Because you never know what language anyone speaks! Plus everyone’s blazing past us. So this time stood out, because we don’t always have time to engage others in conversation via direct questions. But she was moving pretty slowly and younger than both of us, so I guess my dad thought she was a little weary. Her response was, "Hey! Tired..." And we all laughed in exhausted agreement and understanding. Her name is Alice. She’s from New Jersey, about to start medical school at Browne. We chatted all the way into Belorado, where she’s staying tonight, and it made the last 5km into our lunch destination just FLY by. God bless you, Alice. Buen Camino.

We had an absolutely wonderful lunch on a gorgeous patio, with a view of nesting STORKS* atop a beautiful church, and headed back on the road for the second half of our journey. 

(*the first time I ever saw a stork was a few days ago, the day one of my very best friends in the whole wide world Aly went into labor. How freakin amazing is that??)

The rest of our journey went smoothly and uneventfully, with one playground stop to sit for a few in the home stretch. I was amused to see two turtles painted on the toys, as our slow pace on this journey has earned us the names Tortuga and Tortugita. It was a fun little hello.

And now we’re home sweet home for the night, unknowingly at the same place my parents stopped on a particularly rough day on their journey 2 years ago, when my dad was rejuvenated by a cup of tea he has since called "the magic tea." Who would have thought? Staying at the home of his magic tea. That sort of stuff comes with the Camino territory, I guess. And I love it.