
After The Camino
On How To on Surrender to Longing, Forge Meaningful Purpose and Find Your Place in the World When Contentment May Lie in Spending Every Waking Moment Just Walking From One Place to Another
I’ll admit it, finishing the Camino has left me in a mental state of uncertainty. Both of us really. And maybe uncertainty is the wrong word. Because on the one hand we’d like nothing more than hurry into planning our next long, multiday walk so we can continue to enjoy the planning, anticipation and eventual routine of simply walking, day after day, living more like a pilgrim. And on the other we feel the call to continue in some form or fashion the long pause from the quotidian lives society demands, a disconnect from which walking the Camino and then provides.
Perhaps pulled in two directions is a better way of thinking about our state of minds. To be sure, after completing such an endeavor, that last thing either of us want to do is to return to our lives exactly as they were before. Not that anything was wrong with life before the Camino (BC and AC, if you prefer) but even living in Sicily has come with its own drawbacks, downsides and challenges, many of which I've shared with you through this newsletter (with many more to come!).
What that looks like is anybody's guess. The only thing certain is that the two weeks we spent trekking across Spain was transformative in ways neither of us have really begun to digest. All we can say at the moment is we each feel different. Physically. Spiritually. Emotionally. And so taking time to better understand our experience from a practical perspective— How could we’ve taken better care of our feet? How could we reduce the weight we carried even further? —and also of reflective nature is appropriate—What did we learn about ourselves? How did this journey change us? How can we maintain the spirit of the Camino now that it’s over?
And maybe that best explains the shapelessness to what we are presently feeling. A hesitation to not rush toward one thing or another, jumping from one task to another. But to let the day unravel slowly, let the questions arise, answers appear (or not). To not let our need to be always busy get in the way of allowing the world to reveal itself as it does on a slow, deliberate walk. Without haste. Without pressure or worry. Without fanfare or even much notice. To look up one moment as it turns into another and see the haze lift and something new be discovered.

More to come on this as our post-Camino lives unfold. I'm happy you're here. If anyone has specific questions about our Camino adventure please drop me a note or leave a comment. I'll do my best to answer it with as much clarity as possible.
One last note: You might recall, this walk was in celebration of our 3oth wedding anniversary—if you missed my tribute to Franca on our social media, here's a link to check it out. But because I'm not a huge or regular fan of posting there, I'd like to end today with a quote in her honor from one of her favorite books, The Little Prince, by Antoine de Saint-Exupéry:
"Love does not consist in gazing at each other, but in looking outward together in the same direction."
Thanks for sharing this journey with me. There is no one I would rather look outward with than you.
xoxoxo
Alla prossima