The count down has begun.....

The packs are packed--after being unpacked and the contents spread out for examination.  It's not really all that much when you look at it but it still adds up to some weight!  And then there is the element of surprise.  What will the weather be like?  How warm, how cold?  Will there be rain and wind and fog?  Unfortunately the answer as to what to take is always the same:  whatever you are willing to carry!  Layers are a long distance walker's best friend. 

In our day to day lives, we'd like the burden to be light yet still be prepared for any event.  Isn't going to happen.  The more we get ourselves in a tangle about having something for everything, ironically the more burdened and frustrated we become.  Jesus says to us:  share my yoke-the burden is light.  When we work together rather than in opposition to one another, the work is indeed made lighter.  When the work is spread among many according to their gifts and talents, there is synergistic creativity and much more is accomplished than the task at hand.  So often what we take on as unmitigataed burden is our fear.  I consider how freeing it would be to take one change of clothing, no additional sandals, no fleece blanket--three or four pounds at least of stuff!  Would I?  Could I handle a pack so much lighter?  No problem!  And yet could I handle the possiblity of putting on the same wet, not very nice smelling clothes day after day?  Could my feet handle no change in footwear?  Can I trust that anytime it is cold, there will be a blanket available?  See what I mean about letting go and trusting?  Sounds good in theory but it is so hard for us to practice.  When we travel with little, it means we have to revise our expectations.  Still a few more days to consider what is necessary.  A few more days to consider how open I am to trusting the Camino to provide what I truly need rather than what I desire.  Lord, grant me wisdom and patience for the days ahead.  Help me see what I need to leave behind and what I need to take up.

A 10 Mile Shake Down

On Saturday morning, three of us gathered with full packs on to take a 10 mile walk on rolling country roads as Hurricane Irene was marching up the east coast.  Two couldn't make it--the two who haven't been walking regularly with packs on.  It was a wonderful morning to walk because the breeze was brisk and the skies cloudy.  I got some complaints about the hills but hey!  We made five miles in two hours--stopped for grapes, water and some sitting time.  Unfortunately I selected a spot to rest which happened to be a cactus bed!  Who would have thuoght there were cactus in Maryland?  There they were, those little prickly beauties, tucked in among the weeds.  The good thing about sitting on cactus is that you are not tempted to sit there too long!  And then it was two hours back as the skies were darkening and a little spritz of rain here and there began to fall.  It was a nice walk and companionable.  By the time we sat down for lunch (indoors), the rain began in earnest and the wind started to escalate.  The media were all over the approaching hurricane and the devastation to the south.  So we've survived an earthquake this week, a hurricane, and tornado warnings!

Everything felt fine with the walk.  With less than two weeks to go, that is a good feeling.  Rick and I tried out our new hydration systems.  Even those worked well.  Now I am beginning to think about going through the pack again.  What can I delete?  The weight felt fine--16# total, but you never know what might be lurking in there to be removed.  I keep thinking about the couple of times when it had been days since we could do laundry on the Camino due to rain and then having to wear nothing but my sarong while everything else was in the washing machine....dare I take even less than last time?  And then the little old guy in Pamplona comes to mind--the one wearing nothing but a thong and strolling around the alberque--and I realize that no, I think what I have packed is what I need.  A girl has to do what a girl has to do!

A little more than two weeks to go!

I am getting so excited!  I am SO ready to get on the plane and get going!  Just a few last minute but HUGE things to resolve and I will be ready to let go and let God!  That ability of the Camino to purge your mind and heart of all the petty stuff that fills your days is calling me right now.  I took a long walk yesterday all by myself (my husband and I have been walking together most every evening).  The early morning was beautiful and the day fresh.  It can be difficult to figure out how to carve out the time to both walk in preparation and to take the time away from a busy, demanding schedule--but then there is never a great time to do it, is there?  There will always be temptations to put it off, to never getting around to it.  So much of life can be frittered away by dreaming but never moving into action.  I cannot think of anything of value that does not come with a cost of some sort.

Many, many years ago, we were engaged in negotiations over the price of a house.  We were $500 or $1,000 apart.  A wise friend told us:  "over the time you will live in this house--which you have already said you love, is it worth the money to lose it?"  So often there is a cost to walk the Camino--and I am not talking about money (although there is that too!).  There is the cost of time, of energy, of saying goodbye to loved ones and careers for a little while, the cost of taking a risk when you do not know how this will affect/change your life. of letting go so that you can open yourself to what will be, and then, of course, the cost of returning.

The pack is packed.  I have labeled my camera.  Esentially I am taking exactly what I took last time with the exception of deleting very lightweight fleece leggings, replacing my wonderful hiking sandals with Croc sandals, and taking one extra pair of shorts & underwear because we will have to stay in a few hotels where drying overnight could be an issue.  We will be further south than the French Route so I am hoping that it will be dependably warmer--oh, oh!  Probably shouldn't be tempting the weather makers right now should I?  Those of us in Maryland (this is a diverse group including one from New Hampshire and someone I met on the Camino Frances from Canada!) will be walking this Saturday with everything we are taking.  Hopefully the hurricane will slow down a little and give us a pleasant morning!

I am a little nervous about the responsibility of taking so many people with me.  But since we are taking a route I have not yet taken, we are all new pilgrims on the Way.  I can truthfully say "I don't know!"  May God grant us patience and compassion for one another and give us the grace to rejoice daily that we have bodies and minds able to encounter this journey in all its fullness. 

Now I am REALLY frustrated and wondering.....

Why is it that I can now post to this blog again?  Just when I think I have it figured out, it is clear that I do not.  But such is the way of life.  Someone yesterday said "If you don't think too good, then don't say too much!"   So I'll be brief......

Three weeks from Friday my merry little band of pilgrims and I will be on our way to Portugal!  Now it's down to the final preparations.  Three of us took a short jaunt on the AT between Gathland and Weverton Road several weeks ago.  A nice, hot, humid day just to get things into a proper pilgrim frame of mind.  I've done this particular trek any number of times so it was fun to introduce it to my husband and neighbor.  They had never been on the AT. 

When we arrived at the half-way point (Ed Garvey shelter), there were four women there who had started from the same place we had but had started the night before.  Can you really walk that slowly???  But then my fellow pilgrims began to complain not long afterward.  "Can you turn off the rocks?" they cried.  Huh?  That IS the AT!  Now rocks and straight ups or downs is a real kicker but rocks on a relatively level ridge?  Without rocks to keep the trail stable, the trail would gradually sink into a trough (like the AT in the Smokies).  Not a bad walk really--especially for the AT--but getting off the ridge can be a pain, especially after the rocks have claimed their power over your knees and glutes.  A long switchbacked and steep trail is not exactly music to your legs when they are already moaning the blues. 

What surprised me though were the runners running UP.  Just how many people use this as as a quick little jog to get the ole heart pumping???  We also encountered a family with small children and an infant in a "nest" strolling UP!  There is a pay off at the top of the Weverton Road trail making it worthwhile--the Weverton rocks looking out over the Potomac River and Harper's Ferry.  Very, very pretty view. 

I remember the first time I encountered this trail--on my way north out of Harper's Ferry after the long paved walk on the C&O.  Not pretty.  I was already hot, tired and dripping with sweat only to look up and gasp.  Can't believe I now use this as a delightful 6.7 mile walk--from north to south however!  One does hopefully learn from one's experiences!

On Saturday, August 27th, five of us will walk 12 miles with full packs on come rain or come shine.  This is the average distance we'll be walking each day so it's good to have a feel for how the group is going to manage before we hit the big time.  Also to check out how packs have been packed, etc. to hopefully catch any issues before we leave town.  I have never hiked with a group so this is going to be a new experience for me as hiking for any distance is for them.  I have no idea what to expect so stay tuned!  Especially if I ever get access to this blog again.

Camino Portuguese - September 2011

The plane reservations have been made--leaving Friday, September 9th!  Two weeks to walk from OPorto to Santiago.  The difference this time is that there will be six other folks with me, including my husband.  It will be fascinating to see how having others along will change the Camino experience.  I am already looking forward to the time spent walking, watching and wondering.  My lenten discipline has been to ponder what the journey has to reveal and how open I am to receiving it.  It is so much harder to listen for God's voice and then to listen to it than it is to put my own opinions and thoughts "out there".

As I contemplate the Passion Gospel for this year and Jesus' silence before his accusers, it reminds me how often we are closed to hearing the Word of God.  Why should Jesus speak if no one will listen?  Why should Jesus defend himself when we are determined to say what we will about him and grow incensed if anyone--and especially he--disagrees?  I always find myself tearing during the reading of the Passion Gospel--and feeling complicit.  How have I betrayed him?  How many times have I denied him?  How have I joined with crowds in accusations?  How have I made decisions which have been guided more by pubic opinion than by my own integrity?  Until we own up honestly to our own part, it is impossible to fully comprehend the power and grace of Easter.  Until we are ready to look beyond life as we have known it and want it to be, it is impossible to experience the fullness of Easter resurrection and new life.  May the tomb of my heart be found empty of all that is life taking..........

Camino Portugese in 2011?

All through Lent, the Camino continued to live in my heart. I carried a small stone with me and each time I felt it in my pocket or glanced at it sitting on my desk, I was transported back to the Iron Cross and the reluctance I felt at letting it go. Lent is all about finally acknowledging what we need to have pried from our fingers and then letting go and letting God. Easier said than done. I invited members of my congregation to join me in this lenten discipline--to carry their stone, to pour out their fears and anxieties and sins into it until it became ugly with the burdens carried, and then to leave it before the cross on Good Friday. There are a number of the little stones sitting there and the number continues to slowly increase--even in these days after Easter.

I find myself thinking about the Camino a lot. I remember days and places and people. I remember sensations and smells and the food. Though I did not take Holy Communion in Spanish churches along the way. I realize that I experienced Communion daily in the sacredness of meals shared with pilgrims and in hearing their stories--after all, I cannot think of a dinner meal when bread and wine were not shared in abundance!

I see pictures on the Camino forums and know exactly the place where the picture was taken. In retrospect, losing my camera was not the worst thing because it caused me to focus more on looking around and taking it in. The most vivid memories I have are the days after the camera went missing. Another hard learning! The Camino changed my preaching and informed my consciousness. So many of the gospels reach into my Camino and teach me something new. And if you think about it, that is the way it should be. The disciples took their experiences and let God and life work on them until they discovered the meaning beyond the journey. Spending time walking with God and in the company of others we have not chosen, has a way of transforming your life and your view of the world. And it didn't happen all at once either. It took years. But the journey also creates a hunger.......

And so I have made the decision to walk again. This time from O'Porto, Portugal, to Santiago, Spain, in the fall of 2011. This time it looks like I will not be traveling alone. It will be fascinating to see the difference between going by myself and going with others whom I know. I have set out the qualification that the day is individual. The only obligation is to show up at the agreed upon meeting place that night so we know everyone is OK and then to enjoy the companionship of the table. Otherwise, the Camino is our own to experience. May God continue to open our eyes to see God's hand at work in the world, at work in us and through us, and may God bring us to awareness that we are each intended to be God's gift to the world.

Unpacking

I've now been home a couple of weeks and people keep asking me how the transition was between the Camino and home. It was surprisingly smooth, I tell them. Perhaps it was the week in Santiago, perhaps it was my desire to get home after being gone so long, perhaps it is because the Camino is still going on. Each day little memories cause me to reflect on the Christian journey and how the Camino simply makes tangible some of those truths.

For example. When it is raining, you cover yourself up and keep your eyes on your feet so you can side step puddles and rocks. I remember how hard it was to walk when mud clung to my boots. I took no pictures and have few memories of place when it was raining. You are not aware of who is around you or even of the landscape passing by because you are so focused on keeping your feet out of major trouble. When we encounter heavy rain in our lives--those dark, despairing times--consider how limited our focus becomes. I've had people say to me--no one was there. I was all alone. But the truth is, when your focus is limited and you aren't looking around, you have no idea just how many people are nearby nor are you aware of the loveliness of your surroundings. All we know, all we remember, is that we were trying to keep as dry as possible in what felt like impossible circumstances.

And ironically, you can get just as wet from what you use to keep yourself dry! My poncho was great for keeping the water out but underneath it my body was putting out moisture that had no place to go. Then, when I took off the poncho, it was easy to get chilled. How often do we turn to things that do not save us and in fact lead us into even more trouble? Rain is a necessary event--we know that. But in our hearts, we pray that rain will not fall in our lives. I tell parents presenting their children for baptism that baptism is no magic shield from harm. It didn't work for Jesus and it won't work for us. Life presents us with rain and thunder and even lightning. But what baptism DOES give us is the promise that we will never walk through the rain all by ourselves. All we have to do is look up and around--we are not alone. This is the Good News from the Cross. No matter how bad it seems. No matter how many people try to tell us that all is lost. Easter is God's reply. And after the rain, the earth is washed and colors are more intense and beautiful--and we are reminded that rain, like baptism, is our cleansing so we can see with new, fresh eyes what God is doing all around us. The question, of course, is do we bother looking around? Or are we simply glad the rain has finally stopped for the moment? My prayer is that you and I will give thanks for the rain and the promise of renewal it offers and then take the time to look around--even in the midst of the rain--to see who is nearby. For God comes to us in many and mysterious ways. How often have we missed it because our heads were down and our hearts were closed?