Stage 16: Fromista to Carrion de los Condes
19.3 km
So one thing I wanted to do was walk at night. Compostela means “field of stars” so I wanted to experience it myself. I woke up early: 3AM and went for a walk under the stars.
It was.... okay.
I had been planning a time when I could safely walk by myself through the night and not get lost. I had gotten lost here and there, not because the Camino is difficult to navigate, but because I am easily distracted and have a poor sense of direction. It mostly happened through the big cities, early in the mornings, where I was sleepy and the arrows eluded me. The Camino is remarkably well marked by the faithful yellow arrow, directing the pilgrim on the path. Just look for the flecha amarilla.
The Way from Fromista to Carrion de los Condes follows the main road. A few years ago a gravel path was built, parallel to the main road, which makes it easy to navigate, even in the dark. As it is in the Meseta, the grain growing plateau of Northern Spain, it is mostly flat. There also is not a lot of shade in the Meseta, so walking at night would be a welcome change of pace to the scorching heat I had been experiencing the past week.
So the stage was set for a perfect night walk. Nice, straight, flat, well marked, easy path in the cool of night, guided by the stars. I would join the ancient pilgrims in their journey toward Compostela, guided by nature and reveling in God’s mysterious ways.
Darkness is not dark for you, and night shines as the day. Darkness and light are but one. Psalm 139: 12.
I did see stars, constellations, the Milky Way, planets, satellites, and even a shooting star.
But I was also afraid.
I wasn’t sure where I was going all the time. It was really dark. All the sounds scared me. Every sound made me think that something was going to jump out and bite me! I had to turn my headlamp on, so I could see where my feet would go. When I would turn on my headlamp, I could see the road more clearly, but swarms of bugs would be attracted to the light. I would look to my left and right, and sometimes, see glowing eyes in the bushes, reflecting the light through the dark. I had to choose between walking in the complete dark, or being able to see with bugs and possible animals staring back at me, attracted to the light.
It was cold. I left in the morning in my usual pilgrim outfit: Shorts and t-shirt, plus my lightweight jacket. I had been walking in 90+ degree heat every day. I was not used to this 50 degree cold. I fished out every piece of clothing and began to layer it on. I contemplated wearing my sleeping sack.
I had these romantic dreams of walking under the stars. Maybe “stopping” or “camping” under the stars is romantic. Walking; not so much.
Along the path I walked, intermittenlty flipping the headlamp on.
I made it safely and am now waiting for a place to open so I can siesta.
The experience made me think about fear.
What am I afraid of? Truly afraid of? Is it really the one that scared me when I was a kid? The dark? Or is it more?
Maybe it is uncertainty that scares me. The fact that I have no real idea what is out there. I don’t know if there is a monster in bushes or a mouse. I don’t know what my future will be, if I will remain at my job, or how my kids will turn out.
Maybe it is the lack of control. That in all reality I have power over very little. Just over myself and my choices, and that is questionable at best.
Maybe it is vulnerability. I am afraid to be exposed, to be known, without controlling everything around me, that maybe I am not what I thought I was. I believed it was adventure and it turned out to be a nightmare. And I chose it!
I don’t really know actually, but also, I made it. I walked under my own two feet into the village ahead of all the other pilgrims. I accomplished something I really wanted, even if it wasn’t what I totally expected. I lived through it, laughed about it, and even took a nap after.
So fear may always be present. It is something I cannot get rid of, but it doesn’t have to stop me, either. I can walk with fear, befriend it even, and know that it doesn’t have all the power. With fear and courage I walk. Both feet together. I experience great and awful things, together. And it continues. The Camino still teaches.
Earlier today I was sitting having a fresh squeezed orange juice at a bar/cafe and a woman sat down. She turned out to be a spiritual director and Jesuit sister. I had no idea there were Jesuit sisters. I took advantage and got a free spiritual direction session
I shared with her my Camino experience. It was something else. I mentioned this morning’s walk and the past two weeks. What I have come to realize is the most predominant feeling I have felt is being “surrounded.” Not by people, but by love. When I left home, I left with all this support and kinship. People were loving and supporting me. And then other people began to send me prayer requests. Serious things, vulnerable things, deep things. I felt their trust in me. It is an honor to carry them with me. It is a honor to walk with these prayers and the people who entrusted them to me. In each step I feel that trust and vulnerability and fear and hope. And I walk. That is the feeling that overwhelms me when I sit in church and pray, or climb a mountain and pray. That I am surrounded, entrusted, and loved. That somehow, God is at work, in me, in this, in us. I know it is true because I feel it, even more than the sore feet.
So thank you. Thank you for believing and walking in fear and hope. We are doing this together.
