4 years later

It's been over 4 years since I started this blog... It’s hard to believe that so much time has passed. In many ways it feels like only yesterday that I was sitting on the couch here in my mam's place in Arklow, with my backpack waiting for me at the front door and a plane ticket to Australia folded neatly in my hand luggage. It was the 24^th of April 2009. I was heading to Oz for the second time. Even though it wasn’t a first, it was a huge step; I’d just finished my therapy and I was only newly opening the door to the outside world, after months of isolation, cleansing, counselling, refuelling, writing and setting my self free from an addiction that had controlled me so intensely. As I sat on the couch that day, filled with new life and ready for adventure, I wondered what name to give the fresh new little writing place here in cyberspace. A Distance Beyond, came to mind. And it stuck.

At that point in time, this blog was like my springboard, I guess. I literally felt I was about to dive into an outside world with a changed perception of reality, and I didn’t have a clue what was waiting for me. I didn’t know if I was strong enough to cope with life, without resorting to old behaviour in order to stand strong in this world. I was putting myself to the test, well and truly. But I was following my feelings and they were taking me away from this particular place where the cleansing, clearing and re-creating of new ways had started to take place. In many ways I was still so frail and vulnerable. But I made a promise to myself, to cherish the lessons I'd learned throughout recovery. I'd taken a vow to never neglect myself and to ONLY look towards myself for the answers without seeking validation from the surrounding environment. I knew such an approach would keep me floating freely and in-tune with my inner guidance.

Looking back now, I can only say that I've had periods of time when I was diving deeply yet staying safely afloat, happy to just be with my own self. Balanced and open. On other occasions there was no depth and in my attempt to dive, I'd hit a wall and feel as if I'd been smacked in the face by life, with solidity all around me... no floating, no flying, no diving. Simply... stuck. There are no regrets though, for how certain choices came to plan out. There’s simply full acceptance of the different levels of awareness I practised, the different places and cultures I needed to experience, the different people I was destined to meet and the different lessons I needed to learn.

When passing through Australia, Thailand, India, Ireland, China, India and onwards to Ireland once again, I can only say that every part was equally amazing. My journey has been perfect and will continue to be. The perfection is found in the meaning behind those events. Purpose and meaning have always been brought to my way in the moment I'd choose to connect with the world here on this particular blog and NOT to isolate my moments of either immense joy or dazed confusion. (And the size of the world I'd connect with has never been determined by or limited to the amount of visitors that have hopped onto this blog ;).

When I came up with the name 'A Distance Beyond', I truly was setting the intention and creating space for that unknown and untouchable destination to come join me on this journey - even though it may not have always seemed to be so, on the surface level of life.

How grateful I am, that I've taken to creating in such a manner that the writing does the title justice.

From this week on however, I'm moving my writing to another place. Things have changed so much since I first created this diving board 4 years ago and now, for them to keep on moving and expanding, I'm almost (happily) forced to change places. The name will change to ‘best face forward’ and it’s a part of my new site (www.niamhkeoghan.com). I can only hope that this title too, just like A Distance Beyond, sets the intention for my writing to be a platform from which I can project my best face forward out into the world, no matter what the journey may bring. (I guess in this very instant I’m setting the intention for it to be just that!)

So, I’d like to thank all the visitors who have popped upon this blog over the past years. And I hope you continue to follow me from my new place. I’ll be sure to keep sharing my posts on Facebook too. Sending love and light always.  

Step back to step forward

Being in Ireland again – something I was hardly able to foresee, think about or contemplate when I was walking the Camino – has gently eased (or subtly forced) me back into a slower pace of life. It’s been quite a shock to the system to suddenly not be moving so constantly. 

Physically, the walking itself as well as slowing down and stepping away from it, have done me the world of good. I notice how my stamina has increased, how much more grounded and strong I feel when I’m out walking (I’ve even started jogging again, after YEARS of thinking it was bad for me… The Camino experience has made me realize how good it feels to do strenuous exercise, pushing the physical boundaries a little). Mentally, slowing down, has been tough. I’ve had a few days when my head has been screaming at me to get moving again. There’s been panic when I’d realize a move isn’t literally happening at this very instant. Of course, frustration follows suit. Mental turmoil, if we can’t find our centre, will lead to emotional earthquakes and inner explosions…

Needless to say, as the hills I’ve walked, go up and down, I too have been taking that same course since stepping away from the Camino. 

I never realized when I was walking just how much was being mentally sparked-off. A certain old way of perceiving life: going, going, going… without daring to STOP and witness the journey. Literally, when I was walking, I recall having stretches of let’s say 20 or 30km where I experienced EXACTLY that! I’d be walking so intensely, the mind would be racing, the legs would be on auto-pilot, I’d be dealing with whatever ache or pain that would show up on the body, I’d be fixated on finding the yellow arrows (which would guide me to that days destination), I’d be concerned about eating enough and finding the next meal and often fail to actually STOP in my tracks. The faster the mind goes, the harder it is to slow it down. And my mind hardly stopped, throughout the whole experience – whether I was moving to the next place throughout the mornings and early afternoons or lying down and refuelling in the evenings and nights. The speedy took over… and many times I felt I was walking away from myself.

If we never manage to slow down the constantly racing thoughts, of course stress and pressure accumulates. And for me it triggered my old need to RACE through life without consciously taking space to breathe.

When walking any camino it’s necessary to have a certain amount of stress. But it’s positive stress we need; this is what activates us to do certain things. It’s probably better to call this an energy that awakens due to being inspired and passionate to do something. Without it we’d become passive and lack the drive to actually get up and going. A person can’t pursue something that pushes the boundaries (on whatever level) without having a certain amount of positive stress produced by a drive and passion to pursue (and hopefully succeed at) something that’s so challenging. However, when that energy shifts and is no longer sourced from a deeper space of inspiration, it becomes something sourced from a superficial place – a place that’s never satisfied, that’s clouded, blind and only wishing to achieve for the sake of face, regardless of what the feelings are telling us to do – then the stress becomes a negative form and a person starts losing themselves in what they’re doing.

There’s a fine line between positive focus and negative force. The first we can sustain, the latter we can’t. The first empowers, the latter drains. Positive focus enables us to enjoy what we’re doing. It permits us to feel our limits, to accept those limits and to be real about how we’re experiencing our experience. Negative force doesn’t care one way or the other; it will push the individual to do, achieve and reach whatever it’s aiming for, even if the eyes are closed to the surroundings and the body isn’t strengthening but only weakening as a result of the challenge.

Looking back, I can see how I had times of positive focus but also of negative force. And I know that was all part of the learning experience. I could hardly see any of this – at least not as clearly as I can see it now – when it was happening. Only by stepping away, I’ve come to see it as such. And I’m delighted I stopped when I did; I’m certain I gave power my positive side and NOT my negative side, by doing so.  

Now that I’m slowing down and the racing mind is changing its focus, I sometimes feel I’ve lost something, that I’m falling and there’s nothing to catch me. But I know this is just an illusion – of course as it always is. The mind will do its best in convincing us that where we presently are, is the wrong place and what we’re doing isn’t enough. This is only logical reaction, taking into consideration the extreme differences in reality that have been encountered; so close in space and time, yet worlds apart in experience.

So, I’ll sit through this strange period of transition. I let panic and frustration fly away. I breathe, I breathe and I breathe. I focus on where I want to head, trusting that it will work out in due time, in whatever way it’s meant.

Picture timeline Via de la Plata: Sevilla - Salamanca

Silver and Gold

From Salamanca I made my way to Madrid on Sunday afternoon (the 28th). I moved from a city of gold to a city of silver. I felt Salamanca as being gold, not only because it was my 'finishing line' but also because the city itself is an accummulation of architecture made up of golden bricks. The sun was shining, making the buildings even more striking. That particular place really made its mark, feeling like a tranquill open air museum, where the people only have oceans of time and next to no worries at all.

The first impressions of Madrid, were silver. Maybe because that was the colour of the sky and the buildings. The clouds had formed - which many will class as being gray. But considering this city as being gray, would take away much of the glow that would otherwise be experienced in this Spanish Capital. So, silver it has to be!

The train journey yesterday brought me back to reality. We travelled at 150km an hour, through the midlands of Spain. We moved across more than 200km in only 2 hours. This is of course normal. I know. But when you've been moving at a 'speed' of 5km per hour, for 3 full weeks, then to suddenly be moving hundreds of kms in the space of a few short hours, it's quite... different, amazing, odd, fast and EFFICIENT! I sat, staring out at the landscape racing passed the windows and realized it would take 7 days to walk - if a walker is moving at 'high speed'. Just goes to show how the perspective of time and distance can change, when a person is solely reliant on their feet to move them forward around this world.

Since finishing the walk on Friday, the temperatures have dropped. In Salamanca the skies were blue, but it was only 2 degrees at 8am on Saturday morning. Listening to the locals, it seemed to have come out of nowhere; only a few days previous it had been hitting 30! When I left Salamanca, I'd hoped Madrid would be a little warmer. But it's just a chilly and the silver clouds hanging above have opened themselves up, making me look at the locals and tourists with envy, seeing how they´re snuggled up in their wintercoats, hats and scarves.

Today, as I walk the unknown streets of Madrid, looking like a person who has just come from the wilderness, I'm wearing every stitch of clothing I've got (which I've been wearing everyday now for almost 4 full weeks) to keep myself warm. I'm feeling very much misplaced and in need of some pampering. Also aches and pains have started surfacing, from the walking. Obviously these are pains I had to suppress these past weeks. And when a person slows down, what needs to surface, will arise. My energy feels lower than it did, now that I've slowed down. But that's a normal effect - nothing some rest and refuelling won't cure.

Everything is happening as it should - as I cool down in Madrid. Everything is only adding to the experience.

As I walk, I'm browsing this life, this city, the locals and their ways. I'm taking in how the tourists stroll, snap pictures and try to figure their way around the maze of this city centre. I contemplate a life here in this silver city, as I've contemplated a life in the golden city of Salamanca, the authentic Sevilla and all the other 20 or 30 places I've roamed through, this past month.

I can only conclude, that it's not really possible to know if I'd be suited to any individual city, town or village here in Spain. Only by doing something, can we know if it suits. Therefore I can't yet know. All I DO know is that Spain is quite a special place. There's a spirit here, that's unique. There's the warm temperament and passion of the native people, together with the language. There's the relaxed attitude and the importance that's placed on social interactions, above everything else in life. These could be reasons for Spain to hold a special place. Or maybe it's simply because I've had my first REAL experience as a 'wanderer with a purpose'...

This is where I've roamed the roads step by step; where I've struggled but grown; where I've felt challenged but still was able to overcome. It's where I've appreciated the uncountable different landscapes I've come to cross paths with and watched the wildnerness change before my eyes with every km I moved.

For sure, this past month has awakened many things. For sure, it's opened my world. For sure, it will move me onwards. Right now, as I sit in an internet cafe in the centre of Madrid, I can't be sure exactly where it will lead. I can't know until I take the next step and distance myself a little.

The next stop will be Dublin. Tomorrow morning I fly back, or onwards should I say. With eyes wide open and a wish for new opportunities to present themselves, I know that the place I came from will have changed - even if it's just a little - by having had this experience of the Camino and of Spain.

Warmest greetings from the silver city.

550 kms later

After a short day on Tuesday of 10kms, on Wednesday I was able to go a full stretch again. It turned out to be the most amazing day. I was free, full of life, open to my surroundings, appreciating every km and trusting that eventually the full 33 kms of that particular day would bring me to a bed. 

My feet brought me all the way, not only to a bed, but also to be reunited with many of the walkers I'd met weeks ago (some of which I didn't think I'd meet again). It was quite a special evening in the hostel; the most communal feeling I've had on the whole Camino. I'm not sure why. Maybe because the journey had been so 'up and down' up until that point and on that day I felt I was being welcomed back in to a family with open arms, especially by Irish Mary and her Spanish and Italian companions. How unexpected, but so precious for our paths to cross again. 

The next morning I decided to walk with them. They'd invited me before but I'd pulled back, wanting to go alone. At that stage however, it felt right to let myself be apart of a group. I realized, during the 28kms on Thursday, that walking together in a group, if the pace is right, is just as special as walking alone.

Thursday evening I suddenly saw the end of this part of the Camino, drawing closer; Salamanca was only a 24km-day away! 

I´d been contemplating walking another 70kms, from Salamanca to Zamora, before flying to Ireland on Tuesday morning (the 30th). Because a part of me didn't want to stop moving. But I realized the largest part of myself, wanted to take a breather, to catch up on some rest, to step back from the experience and to cool down properly and process. I didn't want to be running off the Camino trail and on to a Ryan Air flight! Before starting the walk, I'd planned to stop walking in Salamanca, to visit the city properly for an extra day and then visit Madrid before flying back to Ireland. So, with great relief, on Thursday evening I decided that arriving in Salamanca on Friday would be the final leg of the journey, for the time being. I also chose to walk the last 24 kms from San Pedro de Rozabos to Salamanca, with the group. 

It´s quite fascinating how this particular group became like a family to me; Mary from Ireland, her Spanish friend Hugo (from Cadiz in the south of Spain), Mari and Jose (from Barcelona), the beautiful Russian Sasha and Angelo from Italy. The amount of language barriers there were, didn't stop me from becoming quite absorbed. Friday afternoon, after reaching Salamanca, we spent the day with the 7 of us, roaming the streets of beautiful Salamanca, taking in the city vibes and celebrating we'd made it so far. 

Yesterday I was still very much in the 'Camino' bubble. This morning, after saying goodbye to the group, it started to open up. Mary, Hugo, Sasha and Angelo have walked onwards and will continue to, until they reach Santiago (another 500kms north west). Mari and Jose went back to Barcelona this morning. As for me, I'm in Salamanca, taking some time to start stepping into whatever will come next.

There are hundreds of reflections, insights and feelings that have come to me throughout the previous 3 weeks, and the nearly 550kms I´ve walked - both alone and in union with other walkers. To sum it up for now... I think the biggest revelation is that LIFE itself is a CAMINO (camino meaning ROAD in Spanish). The biggest issues we stumble upon as we walk these routes, are the issues we're actually dealing with during our daily life. However, in our daily life, we're not always faced with them so 'sternly'. On the CAMINO, there's no escape. 

Throughout the passed week, I was feeling as if this walking was actually bringing me to be walking AWAY from myself. But the consciousness that these walks have almost forced me to place on my physical body, tells me what I'm dealing with most in my own life, but was unaware of. It's true that, not until we start challenging ourselves in ways that our daily lives don't challenge us, do we realize our shortcomings. I realize mine... I've given those shortcomings my attention and made them a priority on this Camino. I've learned the importance. I've felt the satisfaction that comes when the phyiscal body brings us further than we ever imagined. However, I've felt the fear, when it doesn't. I know my mind and my core are so powerful. And the house in which they hold their space, is just a relevant, sustained, strong and invincible yet vulnerable all at once. 

Crossing boundaries

My last update was from Casares - 9 days ago (the 18th). I left the city the following morning and the walking upped a few notches. Things started to unfold at lightening speed. I had stretches of more than 30kms and the rising heat, my insuficient Spanish and the absence of a guidebook, didn't make my journey any easier than it could've been. Moments of panic and fear, mainly brought on due to extreme fatigue, really challenged me. It's quite daunting what the mind can do, when it's pushed beyond its limits and exhausted.

The reason for the stretches to be so long has, most times, been due to having no other option along the way, in regards to hostels and facilities. Over the past weeks, I've spoken with many experienced walkers who have walked different routes in Spain. And everyone says the same: this particular Camino is a tough one, because there are limited hostels and facilities along the way. Apparently on other routes, after every 5 or 10 kms, there are places to sleep and eat. But that's not the case on this route, and it's therefore become known for it's level of endurance. As this is my first Camino, many walkers have been intrigued WHY I chose this route instead of the more popular, easier and better facilitated one. The answer to this question, was IN the question; other routes (especially the traditional route of Frances) are too populated and heaving with tourists. This particular one - Via de la Plata - is less popular. That's why I chose it; I'd be sure to have more space.. And if long distances between hostels is a price to pay for receiving more silence, then it's not too high.

So I'm not sorry AT ALL that I chose this particular route. Yes, I've been challenged but these challenges have taught me so much, and the people I've come to meet, whilst facing these challenges, have even been like teachers to me.

Last Sunday for example (when my legs were to take me 32km from Grimaldo to Carcaboso), I met a man from Valencia as I set out at 07.30am. Manuelle. He's one of the strongest and fastest walkers I've met, for someone who could be my grandfather. I was well-impressed, as he was with me. His pace fitted mine, hence the reason for us to walk together. Without him speaking English, I sourced some of my very basic conversational Spanish. It was all very simple, but that didn't matter. After walking 32km together, it was as if we'd been friends for ages.

What I learned from him - simply by observing HOW he'd approach his walking and be successful in maintaining his pace with as little frustration as possible after walking 2 full days with him over a stretch of 70kms - was the importance of storing energy and building physical strength from within. As well I could see how a certain level of experience and preparation means the mental ability expands and makes it more possible to walk certain stretches, without feeling the stress or pressure is going to break the physical self.

On the second day (Monday, the 20th) we walked together. It was the biggest day I was to have; 40km without a town or facility of any kind in between. I was feeling strong at the start. But after only 20kms, I started to fade away. I was clearly overdoing it, but I'd started that stretch, so I'd continue (it's crazy how hard it can be, to STOP when you've started something. If you're so obsorbed, it can take MORE effort to step away than to actually go on).

At one stage, with 10km more to go, I started to feel physically ill and felt I was screaming from within, as I pounded on the pavement for the 4th or 5th hour. The fact that I didn't know what terrain we were about to walk on, what circumstances I still needed to go through, if my legs would carry me or if the heat would melt me... were uncertainties that accumulated and I let those worries zap my energy, until I had no choice and simply HAD to STOP.

On the side of a motorway, I felt my body was going to fall apart. But I wasn't alone. I had my walking companion. And in such situations, words aren't needed. We don't need to express what's going on inside - there's simply a level of understanding. And the smallest gestures then are enough to feel as if the heavens have opened up and GOD has sent the saving grace. There Manuelle stood, with a piece of fruit and half a bun... (my own food supply had run out). Well, I nearly cried inside... realizing that all my body and mind needed was MORE food (so much in fact, that my backpack didn't have enough space for a big enough supply to see me through the 40kms). Some fruit and a bun later, I was smiling again. Exhausted, but sure I'd eventually make it... Slowly but surely, my legs brought me to my bed for night....

The mental ability that's needed in order to stretch yourself out over such a distance, is quite daunting. It's impossible to know what the circumstances will be before heading off on the road. But how we deal with certain circumstances that arise, totally depends on our own selves, our level of energy and our peace of mind when taking on whatever our situations present us with. This is why I was so inspired by Manuelle; he's got this constant state of calm control, in all situations, and knows he'll get to his destination. He's totally IN the journey, moving through the motions and not wasting his energy on certain mental drawbacks.

That day was the toughest by far. My fatigue blinded me to the ability I have to overcome challenges. And it was the accumulation of kms, since leaving Casares, that exhausted me. I was hitting 130kms in the space of 4 days. My mental capacity to deal with such pressure, nearly broke me. But I was able to understand it. It brought home many many revelations. As well, the importance of food and rest, hit me, on every level. Wow... such simply things we otherwise take for granted.

The following day Manuelle had to go back to Valencia. So, we said goodbye, promising to keep in touch. I was delighted to have met him, but also delighted to be out on my own again.

That day, there was the possbility of doing only a 10km stretch. And it meant I was able to slow down the train I felt the Camino to have become. It gave me a chance to rest, to sit, to write, and to eat MORE. I was simply listening to my body, doing what it was telling me to do. And the day before, as I stood on the roadside, my body felt as if it was going to fall apart. It was terrifying almost; a feeling that pushed me to go further beyond my boundaries where food is concerned. I felt the only thing, besides rest, that would keep me together, was mountains of food. It didn't even matter what or when it was. So the ill-varied food that's available here, was suddenly my glue. And how grateful I've become for the simplest of sustenance to keep me satisfied, energized and sustained along the way.

One step at a time

I found my biggest weakness on the 6th day, as I was willing to set out and walk 22 kilometers from Monesterio to Fuente de Cantos on badly bistered feet. My weakness was my strongminded self, that wanted to push me all the way and zone-out to the pain, as I left the hostel at 8am that morning. I soon had to let-go, as I sat on a bench only 50m from my starting point, in agony. I realized how much I was punishing myself, for no reason at all. So, close to tears, I limped along the main road of Monesterio. I found a cafe, sat myself down and put my mind to doing some long overdue journalling. I then booked myself into a single room in a hotel and slept for most of the day, trying to distance myself a little from the force I felt the Camino was bringing to the surface. Everything eased as I lay in bed, as I let myself ache, throb and contemplate why on earth I'd put myself through such torture yet accept that this is what I'm experiecing for now.

It was such a breakthrough, to take that massive step back. I found, yet again, my biggest weakness was the strength of my mind, that pushes me beyond my pain barrier in order to get things done. I know how affective it can be, to ACCEPT pain. I know that in the acceptance of pain we go beyond. This was the 'theory' I was applying, throughout those first 5 days. But then I saw how I was overstepping the line, coming out of balance and unnecessarily torturing myself. It started dawning; pain is there to tell us something. It arises to tell us we're overcompensating parts of ourselves; we're bringing ourselves out of balance for reasons that are unneccessary. Physical ailments show up so we can take action for the BETTER and bring ourselves back into balance once again. I know now that the condition of my blistered feet were telling me loud and clear: my mind was pushing me further than my feet were able to handle. Such an important lesson. It made me change my approach once I started walking again on day 7, from Monesterio to Feunte de Cantos.

Day 7, 8 and 9 were all equally tough, even whilst taking more of a gentle approach towards the kilometers my wary feet were letting me travel. Regardless of taking it one step at a time, staying in the moment and just being grateful for being able to walk at all, the challenge hasn't simply vanished. Each day, the first 2 hours of walking are so smooth. The pain isn't there and I can actually SEE and BE with where I am. I absorb Spain, I cherish what I'm doing. The pain starts the creep in though, whilst I intentionally repeat soothing mantras, sing songs and use a connection with nature as a source to keep myself in the moment.

On day 8, I was in tears, after 25 kms and finally bringing myself to the small city of Zafra. That's when I wondered whether or not to continue. But I met a wonderful lady from Ireland, Mary, that day in the hostel. Instantly it was like a part of home was telling me to look after myself. She wasn't advising me to give up, but to simply be realistic and kind to myself. Another helping hand came, when a German walker (fluent in Spanish) offered to help me to find new boots. Because I realized my blisters wouldn't soothe if I were to continue walking in the boots I thought were perfect. The relief I felt was huge, when I sunk my swollen feet into a new pair, in the sports shop. My feet were in heaven. I never realized how important it is to have a light connection with the earth during the hours of walking. Nor did I fully understand how the extreme circumstances we wish to endure can be experienced so lightheartedly with we provide ourselves with the correct material support. On day 9, as I continued the walk from Zafra to Villafranca de los Barros, I became aware of the importance; I had a smile on my face, my heart was open and I wished for lightness to enter as I set out to walk again. 

I'm now 10 days into the Camino Via de la Plata. I 'should' be walking today from Villafrance de los Barros to Torremejia. However, even though I've new boots that feel like magic, yesterday evening, as I took a good look at my feet, I knew that all of my blisters, which had accumulated since the start of the walk, needed to heal. My feet were in an awful state. So I let a lovely American lady by the name of Alex, who was also here in the hostel and who I've also done some walking with over the past 3 days, treat my blisters.

For days I was scared to do anything with them, I didn't know how and so I just left  them, until yesterday. As I took off all the plasters, compeed and bandages, we counted 10 blisters, some with the potential of becoming infected. As well the nail on my little toe was threatening to fall off. Well, for those who know me quite well, they'll also know how faint-hearted I am when it comes to anything like this. As I burst the blisters one by one letting the water ooze out; as the American lady cut my old damaged skin so as to pour disinfectant into the open wound, I thought I was going to either faint or be sick. It took some deep breathing to get through, but how grateful I was when we were all done. My feet had been properly treated...!!!!! YAY!!!!!!!!!!! The next question then arose, 'Niamh, will you walk tomorrow?' Intially I was adament to, but I woke up this morning and the answer was 'No'. I knew I´d be doing myself unnecessary damage by walking today; I´d be risking not being able to walk anymore.

So, in 2 hours time I'm taking the bus to Torremejia, with 2 other lovely girls (Sasha from Siberia and Lea from Canada) who are also unable to walk. My time here on the Camino isn't unlimited, so I have to keep moving every day, even if it IS bus, taxi or hitch-hiking. Because I do want to get to Salamanca by the 28th of April.

It's actually lovely to give myself some breathing space and to catch up on writing. Not minding so much that I'm missing only this one day of being out on the trail is a huge step forward - even if I'm not physically going to be taking these kms today.

So, for now, I'll sign off. The next days will unfold as they will. I'm taking it one day at a time and giving my physical self the priortiy. Anything else, I need to let-go of for now.

The rhythm of a pilgrim

 5 Days of walking and I find myself in Monesterio; a town just over the border of the state of Extremadura. Since leaving Seville I've walked over 110 km, seen some amazing parts of Spain and met some of the nicest and most caring people.


The days seem to have started flowing into one. A certain rhythm has started to take over. There's this drive that keeps us all moving and constantly wanting to get to the next place. And then, there's this other drive, that wishes to keep us in the moment, savouring each landscape, each stage and each day. And as this happens, everything else that was something of a worry or concern, up until a week ago, becomes irrelevent

In doing this pilgrimage, and therefore being a part of something of a community, I've had moments of feeling as if I'm on a tour. It's the strangest thing. But I've realized it's because every walker that started out on the 5th of April from Seville, is walking the same stages each day. So everyone ends up in the same village and often the same hostel, every evening. I've been reminded of my tour guiding days, quite a few times. I've even contemplated WHO is the GUIDE on this particular tour? Who has organized this Camino? Who is the person that marked the way, with these yellow arrows guiding us all safely to a hostel every evening, where we can wash, eat and sleep before setting off again out into the Spanish landscape the next morning? Who made this possible? Well, this post isn't about the history of the Camino. Instead, I'll say that all of us walkers or pilgrims, are the creator of our own tour. We may be following the same yellow arrows and staying in similar hostels. But, we as individuals, are making our walk ourselves. It's our own experience, serving an individual purpose.

Even still... I couldn't help but talk about this feeling of being on a 'tour' with one of the other ladies this week. And most will feel the same way. It's not a bad thing though. Especially if you're walking alone - which I am (most of the time). With familiar faces coming together in the evening, after a long walk in solitude, it brings those hours of pacing alone back into balance. It's also brilliant to practise European languages, to get tips, to support others and to exchange experiences - be they good or not so good.

I can't really say I've had moments that weren't so good. Well, a part from the blisters on my feet. That's actually quite an issue right now. I don't think I've ever seen my feet in such a condition before. I've around 10 blisters at the moment, and they're not really healing yet, because my boots get wet (if I'm passing through a stream) and the blisters moisten.... Ouch... (but I won't go into further detail... it's not too rosey). Other than that, today I had a small slip walking through water. Nothing major though - just more handwashing ;) and I lost my lenses (now I'll be wearing my glasses until I'm back in Ireland. I´m not really ecstatic about that, but it's just a matter of getting used to them again).


These few tiny things aren't important at all. Not when I take the massive triumphs I've had, into account. The 3rd day (07-04, from Castilblanco to Almaden), was a highlight for me. For most, it was a dreaded stage, due to it being 30kms. But I was actually on top of the world. Even if the first stretch of 18km was along a hilly, strenuous, monotonous main road. The setting was beautiful though, the sun was shining and I was able to unload the layers of clothes!!!! FINALLY!!!!! As each kilmeter passed, I got more into a zone and loved every step. After the 18kms along the main road, the next 12 passed through a national park and... WOW... I've never felt so alone in the world, but so blessed, grateful, alive alive and oh so alive... as I walked through the hills. It didn't matter that my feet felt as if they were being stabbed with knives. Because my voice was singing, my arms stretched open to the world and the kms made me feel I'd found the centre of the world. Every blister that was swelling, became irrevelent. Such a sight, cured everything. Amazing!

On that same stretch, I met lots of people who I could've walked with. But I wanted to stay in a free state... So I greeted them all, wishing them ´Buen Camino' and I continued walking, in my happy seclusion, taking conscious space.

I've since realized that it really does make a difference whether or not you're walking with someone or going it alone. On the 4th day for example, the stage that took me from from Almaden to Real de la Jara (15km), I walked with a Spanish couple and a Frenchman. That was totally different. It felt more strenuous because I was talking, concentrating on speaking German, trying to follow their Spanish, wanting to take in the beautiful surrounding and also trying to keep the same pace. It was quite hectic to be honest, but I was actually delighted to have done that. Not only did it bring me to open up more, but it also kept my mind distracted from what was happening inside my boots. Yay!

Today, the 5th day, which took me from Real de la Jara to Monesterio, was 22kms. I wanted to do this stretch by myself. And I did. It's probably been the toughest day so far. But that's okay. I know it's impossible not to go through a stages of being challenged. Circumstances, terrain, wheather and energy levels are constantly changing, all adding to the overall experience of everyday. And just before coming online today, I had a chat with a wonderful lady from Holland, who brought me to realize that such a journey is an accumulation of stages and kms. There's no real stepping away from it - even if you do take a day to rest. So I know I'm trying to come into a balance so I can sustain my energy levels, share my company, soak in this experience and trust that by simply going with the flowing rhythm, everything will always be clear - especially whilst wearing these specs!!!!

Camino Countdown

 

On the 2^nd of April finally I’ll be hopping on a plane and heading to the south of Spain. I’ll be walking the Camino de Santiago, an ancient pilgrimage route. The most popular route is the Camino Frances, starting north of the Pyrenees, heading 780kms west, towards Santiago. There are countless routes throughout Europe leading to Santiago – which is the destination of every individual Camino, located close to the western coast of Spain, North of the Portuguese boarder. And after a lot of research I found that the Camino Frances would be too crowded with tourists. As well there’s more chance of rain (and a damp climate is something I’ve definitely outgrown). So, I’ve chosen to walk the Via de la Plata. This particular Camino starts in Seville and the stretch follows a route of 1000kms, until it eventually reaches Santiago. It takes up to 7 weeks to walk. But I’ve decided to go as far Salamanca, for now. Meaning I’ll have 500kms to walk and 4 weeks to do it. Easy done… ;)

I’ve never attempted such a hike before, but when I heard about it 3 years ago, it took up a place on the (never ending) wish list of ‘must dos’. Back then I couldn’t wait to get my hiking gear sorted and get on my way… Well, good things come to those who wait, and here I am, only a week to go!

This past month, as it came to making the actual decision, setting things in motion getting on with the arrangements, I was temporarily held back by fear. This led me to analyse till being blue and purple in the face, as to why I’m doing this. I was seriously worried about not being fit enough to take on something so ‘extreme’ (depending on what perspective it’s judged from). 

I was feeling daunted, insecure and doubting my physical stamina and strength. But, looking deeper, I found how amazing the physical body is, and that it truly CAN and WILL adapt to any situation or circumstance it comes to experience. With awareness we can feel what it needs, and, without question, attend to those needs. As we do, the body will keep responding to us and adapting to the situation it’s exposed to.

So I soon got past my fears and briefly analysed purely out of caution, due to what I’ve always associated ‘extreme walking’ with (up until a few years ago). In the past, I’d have done this JUST to finish it, and not to actually LIVE the experience and BE IN the walk. I’d have done it to compete against myself, to over-exert my physical body and experience self-harm as I go. I know now, with all my heart, these aren’t my reasons anymore.  

When a feeling overrides everything, there’s really little point in analysing. When the heart speaks louder than the mind, rationalizing certain choices becomes irrelevant. And for now, the Camino is the only way to go. By following that course and taking that route I know for sure more directions will guide me onwards showing me where I next want to go. The open road and (finally) the change of surroundings will bring me to find answers to certain questions that are a mystery to me right now.

What I hope to experience THROUGHOUT the journey is to put into practise how the journey itself actually IS the destination. And not the city that will only be reached when my legs have brought me 500kms from my starting point. So, I’m delighted to feel that I’m not too fixated on the ‘goal’ of reaching Salamanca. If I reach it, fantastic. If I don’t, that too is fine. We never know what circumstances can arise nor can we know how easy or how challenging something actually is – not until we go ahead and do it.

So, as I let-go of whatever it was that tried to hold me back, I can welcome what’s approaching and savour the days of preparing myself. Only a week and I’ll be hearing, seeing, tasting and touching base with Spain! What a treasure and wow… how lucky I am!