On the last evening I walked out the last three kilometers with friends from Canada and Spain and Germany and Italy for the final ceremony of this pilgrimage–to hold silent observation and keep reverent company of the setting of the sun on the great and endless water at the end of our walking at “the end of the world”
When I was a kid I had a sustained romantic vision of how the world could be. People would usually give their best. They would care for each other and for nature. They would like to learn and share and try to understand. They would complain little and be flexible and forbearing and patient and open to others who are different and be slow to judge. They would make friends easily (just like kids) and forgive quick and often. And they would generally have good purpose near the forefront of their minds. And it wouldn’t take much for them to want to gather and celebrate good company.
My friends, there is a place where the world is just like that: The Camino!
And the sun sets on that world, for now.
But I don’t think so, really. That light, that warmth, it resides inside of us. It is everywhere.
Each pilgrim is quite willing to share the gifts they have received from the Camino. There are so many, like: “I got a lot of answers and made a lot of friends.”
I really like what Jasmine said, on behalf of so many of us: “I found my authentic self.”
As we sat out on the point at the lighthouse and the sun had just gone down we turned to see the full moon rise above the ridge behind us on the the other side of the cape. One more magical unplanned, serendipitous mystical perfection on a perfect Camino.
After six weeks of take-it-one-day-at-a-time walking, paced less by head than heart, my pilgrimage ends at the very moment of the rising of my meditation teacher’s anniversary celebration moon, with whom I’ve studied now these 34 years. From whom, along with my parents and friends and other teachers of so many stripes, and this beautiful planet that I love so much, I got the life that gave me this Camino and everything the Camino gave and every other good thing.
The Good Camino never ends…
But it sure is nice to rest your feet!
I love you. Just the way you are. Thanks for bein’ that.
Let’s go sailin’! No pressure. As much, or as little, when you can and how you want.
Well… I might not really have changed all that much. For I just looked back at my first post, one I made a couple months ago, before I took my first step. And it’s truer for me than ever now!
Person 1: “Everything you took for granted is gone; nothing makes sense anymore.”
Person 2: How did you get over that feeling? Of nothing making sense?”
Person 1: Oh I don’t know… just keep putting one foot in front of the other, don’t you?”
Person 2: “Right. Should we go and get that ice cream?”
The Tunnel, Season 2, Episode 5