Once again, I am reminded of the fragility and constant change in each day. I was feeling great yesterday and today there’s a little bit of fever and strep throat that is threatening to develop into more. While walking (as in life) you can never feel like, now it should be all downhill from here. This is the moment where everything is going to be easier after this. I guess this is something that should be somewhat obvious by the mid-thirties. If it hasn’t happened by now, chances are it won’t so time to embrace the reality.
|An old home in a village on the path|
The Refugio at Cacabelas is nice and quite private. There are only two beds to each A-frame, chalet style room with common showers for everyone in the middle. The other woman assigned to my room only speaks German so it’s nice and quiet. It’s hard to believe that I’ve been on this walk for almost a month. It feels so natural to wake up early, pack my bag, and get on the road. Being a vagabond with a set destination is easy. There’s clarity of purpose each day. The route maybe different and the towns that I pass through are all unique but the focus remains on continuing on the path. And yet, it’s not about the end goal either. It’s all about the journey and living each day fully, being with the aches and pains and with all the beauty of nature around me all at the same time.
There is no hoping or wishing for anything to be different. One day it’s a beautiful path and an inspiring conversation the next day, aching fever. Life beckons with all its splendor and its frailty. The hero’s challenge then is to answer that call and respond with an open heart -- no matter who is at the door.
(From the Camino Journals May 25th)