October 3, 2018
- Train Route: Santiago de Compestela to Madrid
Today I put the Camino behind me and began traveling like an ordinary tourist again. in fact, with the possible exception of my backpack, I probably looked just like every other traveler on the train to Madrid. This seems like a strange transition, and I began to wonder if you ever really stop being a pilgrim?
What is a pilgrim, really?
As an American, whenever I hear that word, I immediately think of the pilgrims who came to the American colonies in search of freedom. These pilgrims left behind a society that demanded concessions they could not endure. Rather than give up their identity and assimilate, they decamped and looked for somewhere new where they could thrive. Of course, there’s a lot more to unpack with the pilgrims (particularly after they arrived in the “new” world). But when you boil it all down, their motives were to deny the naysayers and march to the beat their own drum.
With that as my baseline, I’ve spent some time this past month thinking about the word pilgrim. Pilgrims aren’t just those people seeking to visit sacred shrines or religious sites in Mecca, or Jerusalem, or even Santiago de Compostela. They don’t need to be a holy expedition or crusade. Some secular pilgrims are merely on a journey to a place where they aren’t pressured to compromise their strong sense of identity.
Don’t get me wrong. There’s nothing wrong with wanting ‘normal.’ Going to college. Getting a great job. Finding a partner in life. Buying a home where you can grow old together. These are all fine dreams. But, not everyone needs (or even wants) to assimilate to this traditional formula to feel complete. In fact, for some of us, accepting traditional aspirations feels like we are giving up our sense of true self.
Making a pilgrimage can be about reconnecting with your innate identity, and what you hold to be true. Because when you’re forced concede parts of your identity to assimilate to the norms, you can feel like we’re losing touch with yourself. Sometimes, the only way to reacquaint your heart and mind with what you truly desire is to decamp and seek it out like a pilgrim. Traveling somewhere new, where you don’t know a soul, forces you to strip away all the gloss and become more raw while you seek this out.
How did this pilgrimage impact me?
If you asked me today whether walking the Camino de Santiago was a spiritual journey or a thru-hike, I’d have a hard time forming a conclusive answer. I don’t adhere to organized religion. But, each time I undertake a long hike in nature, I have a transformative experience. Something in me changes and grows. There are plenty of studies and books out there about the benefits of nature therapy that explain this phenomenon far better than I can articulate it.
But here’s what I know. As my life has become busier and technology continues to move at a faster pace, I feel more stressed. That creates a strong desire to decompress, and spending time outdoors really does that for me. When I slow everything down to 2-3 mph, I start to notice more details. When I walk 8 hours a day by yourself, I have time to reflect on both the important things and the nuanced ones. Clarity comes with time, and mindfulness slowly emerges.
I experienced some external changes too on the Camino. Although I was in good physical shape before, it’s impossible to walk 20 miles a day without it having some effect on your health. Since completing this journey, I’ve become proud of my physical appearance, and it has nothing to do with my current weight or perceived attractiveness. I’m simply in awe of how strong my legs and body have become. I have more energy. I look and feel more alert. The outward benefits of this pilgrimage are obvious.
But, the most important thing that came out of this pilgrimage is a transition. I have my existence before the Camino, and who I am after the Camino. I deliberately timed this journey to coincide with a major life change. I left everything I’d built for more than two decades behind. I ditched the fast-paced career that brought me immense joy and pride, but equal amounts of stress and frustration. I gave it all up even though I had nothing waiting for me on the other side. That abrupt departure could be what I used to mark this major transition, or something else could be the pivot point.
As I look back on the course of my life, I don’t want to define myself by how I make money. So many Americans have their identify wrapped tightly around their profession. I’d rather characterize my brief existence here by the sum of my experiences. Climbing Mt. Kilimanjaro, living abroad, becoming a parent, diving the Great Barrier Reef, spending time with the people I love. This is how I choose to see my life’s journey.
In the end, walking the Camino wasn’t about completing the full distance or building my hiking resume. I wasn’t a tourist trying to consume a foreign experience. And I certainly didn’t care about capturing selfies in front of iconic monuments or sites. This was about letting an adventure consume and change me. And, honestly, I think it did.
