[Camino Poem No. 20] Late August

This is the 20th of 42 posts about the poems that carried me along the Camino de Santiago pilgrimage route in Aug-Sep 2016. On this (the 20th) day, I walked 16km from Ledigos to Sahagun. 

Sahagun is roughly the half-way point between St. Jean and Santiago. I was tired.

On the way in to town, I passed a sign saying '4* hotel, special pilgrim price!'. One hour later, I was asleep in the crisp sheets, body still smiling from the bath I had just taken.

I spent the evening writing, delighted at the clarity that was flowing out of me about how to develop my PhD ideas.

And then this poem. I let my room number chose it (no. 33*).

[Camino Poem No. 19] Wild Geese

This is the 19th of 42 posts about the poems that carried me along the Camino de Santiago pilgrimage route in Aug-Sep 2016. On this (the 19th) day, I walked 23km from Carrion de los Condes to Ledigos. 

Picture me reading this poem, sat on a bench outside a small church, on a hill overlooking a weary village. Wheat stubble in the fields all around. Morning heat softening to end of day. 

Me, walking hundreds of miles through the desert, softly. And loving what I loved. Which was the walking, the outside, the solitude, the big skies. Me, no matter how lonely, excavating my place in the family of things. 

What would a life be, to hear that call each morning, harsh and exciting?

Wild Geese - Mary Oliver (1935-)

[Camino Poem No. 18] The Dolphins

This is the 18th of 42 posts about the poems that carried me along the Camino de Santiago pilgrimage route in Aug-Sep 2016. On this day, I walked 34km from Itero de la Vega to Carrion de los Condes. 

Here is what I scrawled in my journal after my early morning start: 'walk alone in the furious dark. breathe deeper, see deeper into the darkness. Find only love.'

At lunch I met a pilgrim who was making the lonely journey of walking in the opposite direction, away from Santiago. She explained how she got to meet everyone once, and only once. She was struck by the intensity of what she saw in the faces of the many pilgrims she passed - the joyful, the angry, the sorrowful.

[Camino Poem No. 17] One Art

This is the 17th of 42 posts about the poems that carried me along the Camino de Santiago pilgrimage route in Aug-Sep 2016. On this (the 17th) day, I walked 31km from Hornillos to Itero de la Vega. 

For days, I had been allowing myself to be tired. To let myself walk shorter distances. It was as if I was unravelling months, even years, of fatigue - opening up layers of fear, sadness, and shame, and letting them gently release.

When I rose early to walk on this, the seventeeth day, I felt excited. Fresh. The pre-dawn landscapes were mysterious and inviting. I marvelled at the blinking red lights of the distant wind farms, beckoning in every direction.

Simple pleasures, really. To be walking, breathing, exploring. To be free.

[Camino Poem No. 16] City Psalm

This is the 16th of 42 posts about the poems that carried me along the Camino de Santiago pilgrimage route in Aug-Sep 2016.

Today began the Meseta, a 200km stretch between Burgos and Astorga that is known for being flat, hot and shadeless. Vast wheat fields open to the horizon.

For me, it was very peaceful. By chance, the weather was becoming much cooler.

I finished my walking with the daily poem, chosen by two pilgrims who stayed to hear me read it. The words felt dense - 'the air bears the dust of decayed hopes'. We discussed it afterwards.

[Camino Poem No. 15] Carnal Knowledge

This is the 15th of 42 posts about the poems that carried me along the Camino de Santiago pilgrimage route in Aug-Sep 2016. 

Day 15 - I made it to Burgos! That is almost 300km from where I started, but still around 500km away from Santiago. 

I had been choosing to spend a lot of time alone. This was, unsurprisingly, lonely. But it also felt important. That evening, I sat for two hours by myself in a church, relaxing into peace, and sifting through questions about what I was doing with my life. 

[Camino Poem No. 14] What you loved

This is the 14th of 42 posts about the poems which carried me through the Camino de Santiago pilgrimage route in Aug-Sep 2016. 

Day 14- What you loved - Gabriela Mistral 

Translated by Ursula K. Le Guin (original below)

Life of my life, what you loved I sing.

If you're near, if you're listening,

think of me now in the evening:

shadow in shadows, hear me sing.

[Camino Poem No. 13] For the Interim Time

This is the 13th of 42 posts about the poems that carried me along the Camino de Santiago pilgrimage route in Aug-Sep 2016. 

On this day (no. 13), I shared dinner with a Norweigen pastor and his fiancee. Here are some things he said which I liked:

"please God, give me patience. NOW!"

"there is a difference between meditation and prayer. In prayer, you invite a relationship with something that is bigger than you."

[Camino Poem No. 12] Traveller, There is No Path

This is the 12th of 42 posts about the poems that carried me across the Camino de Santiago pilgrimage route in Spain. 

this moment has arisen
and gone

and we make our paths by walking,
step
by
step.

[Camino Poem No. 11] My Work is Loving the World

This is the 11th of 42 posts about the poems that carried me across the Camino de Santiago pilgrimage route in Spain. 

Sometimes people say things that you know you will remember for the rest of your life.

The previous evening, I shared a meal with a Swedish pilgrim who seemed able to sense how much I was struggling with fear. At one point, she looked straight into my eyes (through my eyes?), and said, firmly, 'Will, you do not need to be afraid.'.

[Camino Poem No. 10] Home

This is the 10th of 42 posts about the poems that I brought with me as I walked the Camino de Santiago trail across Spain. 

Over the first ten days of walking, I had been feeling a lot of fear. It peaked on this day. Ostensibly, it was about the rising levels of pain in my knees, ankles and hips - would I do myself serious injury? would i be forced to stop walking?

But under that, if i was willing to look, there were deeper questions - will I ever finish my PhD? can i find a career that is both financially sustainable and meaningful to me? where do I belong?

I put this poem in because I wanted to remind myself. Remind myself that, as hard as a 500 mile walk could be, my journey was voluntary, relatively comfortable, and ended with a return home. Millions of people have been making much longer journeys - not voluntarily, not comfortably, and not with a foreseeable return home.

Experiential Understanding

How does our own life experience constrain or enhance our ability to understand other people?

Can I really understand a person who has had experiences very different from my own? Can I understand the suffering of a refugee? Or the challenges of ageing? Can I really make sense of what I am hearing about as I walk around a concentration camp memorial?

Who would you trust to fully understand you, if you were wanting to speak to someone about a traumatic experience that you had been through?

[Camino Poem 9] Telephone Poles

this poem wins at: having startling imagery, opening us to wonder (washing our eyes 'clean of belief'!), and waking us up to re-evaluate our relationship to the natural world.

it does not win at: cheerfulness.

i was already missing green - although the camino has many virtues, wilderness is not one of them. the trail is rarely far from roads, and frequently runs through towns and villages.

[Camino Poem No. 8] Song

some days, you rise early, head down, get where you need to be.
other days, tasted breakfast, noticed dawn, playing with poems
as pilgrims beat past.

i love this poem,
this song.

say it out loud
and see if you don't
merge to gold
again

[Camino Poem No. 7] My Sweet Crushed Angel

Today’s walk passed a wine-fountain! Meaning: A tap protruding from the outside wall of a winery, where you could fill up your water bottle (with wine) for free. I did! 

Earlier in the day, I followed an instinct to make a detour to a semi-abandoned church that was a few hundred metres off the trail. Inside were two altars covered with notes, flowers and rocks. Pilgrims had been coming in for years and leaving them there as offerings to loved ones. I sat there for a long time, taking in the depth of the space. I also re-read the day's poem (below) which was chosen over breakfast by two pilgrims from Wisconsin. 

[Camino Poem No. 6] In the Park

This is a long poem. Some lines are still lost on me. Maybe it is too close to home.

It was picked out (number 21!) by Jose Ramon - the hostel manager in the village of Lorca. It had been a tough walk - very hot, no shade, lots of hills – and the pain in my knees was starting to worry me. Jose refreshed me with excellent Gaspacho soup and opera played over the bar sound system.