This Blog

I’ve been giving some thought to this blog.

With the end of the Camino, and the return to a full-time job, my blog has suffered from my lack of attention. But not lack of love.

I feel grateful for the memories and photos stored on these virtual pages. I love that on any given day, I can go to this website and click on a date from my pilgrimage and immediately be drawn right back onto the Camino path. In addition, I appreciate the outlet this blog has provided as I work through thoughts on faith, life, and vision loss.

Sometimes I wonder if it’s too much, having a blog that talks about such specific and different topics – the Camino, my faith, my vision loss, etc. – all in one place.  Would it be better if to have separate blogs for each category, so that people who are interested in the Camino, for example, don’t have to weed through random posts on singleness or the Advent season to get the information they want?

Perhaps…

But, thinking it through, I realize that separating these posts into their own blogs wouldn’t be true to who I am, or how I process things.  The fact is, all of these “topics” coexist within me, so why not have them coexist in one blog?

There’s probably a better way to organize it all, and maybe on some rainy day I’ll figure out a new set-up to help Camino people find Camino posts easily, while the Retinitis Pigmentosa people can go straight to my adventures with the cane.  Or maybe readers don’t mind stumbling over one to get to the other, and I should just let it all grow together, like some wild and beautiful garden.

In the end, I think it’s safe to say that I’ll keep the blog. I like having it. My posts may be scattered, and it’s anyone’s guess which topic will plant and blossom next, but that’s okay. It’s mine. That’s who I am.

Thanks for reading.

The Camino Memory Path

I’ve been thinking about the Camino a lot.

I am tempted to say, it’s abnormal how much I’ve been thinking about the Camino, but since the Camino is kind of an abnormal undertaking to begin with, who can say if the amount of afterthought is normal or not.

The point is, I’ve been thinking about the Camino.  A lot.

I was at work the other day and overheard someone speaking in French. It  reminded me of this French woman who stayed at the same alburgue in Murias de Rechivalda, and how she would say “Bonjour” to everyone with this really guttural sound, like she was trying to clear her throat or something.  Bon-JHOUR!

Which reminded me that the day we stayed at Murias de Rechivalda is the day I was really sick with stomach cramps and couldn’t walk because the pain was so bad. So we stopped at this bar, and the bartendar knew a German Reike master, who came and took me to her office, and she proceeded to do some reflexology on my feet, which was much more painful than I could ever have imagined.  At last she declared that I was “empty of energy” and needed to sleep, preferably in the sun.  So, Ann and I found a park bench and slept in the sun for an hour before deciding to stay in Murias de Rechivalda.

Which then reminded me of the other park benches and picnic tables that I utilized along the Camino for a quick naps and rest during the day, and then I rememberd the picnic area just past Logrono, next to a lake.  Despite the multitude of people out and about, enjoying the beautiful day, I had no problem falling fast asleep on a picnic bench, boots and socks off, resting my warm feet and body on the cool stone beneath.

That was the same day we ended up in Navarette. Navarette was a killer because the city is built on top of a hill, so after 13 miles on one of the hottest days in September, we found ourselves looking up at the town where we wanted to stay, facing who knows how many stone steps and a steep hill. And then when we finally arrived at the alburgue, the owner showed us to our room, which was on the top floor.  As Ann and I dragged our hot, tired bodies up the three flights of steps, the owner kept saying “Courage!”

Which makes me think of the phrase pilgrims sometimes say to each other, “Ultreya!” Which means, Courage! Specifically, I think it means “courage from God”, but I could be wrong. (Don’t tell me if I am wrong though, because I like to think that’s what it means.)

Ultreya! is what got me through my Camino. Ultreya! is what gets me through life, through faith, through all of my unknowns. Ultreya! is what I wish for every person reading this… for every person who needs to know that they can face whatever is in front of them.  COURAGE FROM GOD!

…Anyway, as I said, I think about the Camino a lot. I don’t know if it’s normal.  I don’t really care. I love that hearing someone speaking French can lead me down a path of memories and thoughts so beautiful and bittersweet that it takes a deep breath and a shake of the head to remember where I am… what I’m doing… where I’m going.

I had no idea that the Camino would continue to affect me so deeply, and in such random ways. It has almost become a game at this point, wondering what random word, or a vaguely familiar looking person or scene, might next propel me down the Camino Memory Path once again.

Don’t get me wrong… I’m thoroughly grateful for it. I love all the crazy memories that pop up, just because I’m holding something like a hard boiled egg in my hand. Boiled egg in Spanish is huevos duros, by the way, and it reminds me of the time I took a half dozen to a fancy hotel restaurant in the town of Castrojeriz and asked them if they would boil them for me while I ate dinner there………………….

But that’s a story for another time. For now, I’ll leave you with, ULTREYA! Whatever you are facing, whatever is weighing you down, may the Courage from God see you through.

Peace,
Luci

Rhythm and Repose

It’s hard to believe that a month ago today, on October 23, I arrived in Santiago de Compostela.

I miss the Camino. I miss the walking, the meditation, and the prayer. The physical pain I struggled with has faded in memory, leaving only pleasant thoughts of endless hours in deep spiritual contemplation…

I think I actually miss the meseta most… the long, shadeless stretches between towns… the sound of my step, the movement of my poles, the rhythm of the walk… all lulling me into a prayerful trance of love, peace, and joy…

Sometimes, when I close my eyes and quiet my mind, I can feel it again. I can feel the rhythm of my walk… my feet and shoulders all moving to the beat of some drum deep within me whispering: left… right… left… right…

It’s amazing how that rhythm comforts me, quickly transporting me to the spiritual calm that I now know resides within.

Not all days are rhythm and repose, however. Since I have been home, I have struggled to maintain any kind of rhythm or routine. One day slips into another and before I know it, the weekend is here again.

I thought I would love this. I thought I would love the freedom from everything, and attachment to nothing. I admit, it has been nice to have the downtime, but I am not “lurving” it. It is just “okay.” Mostly though, as the days start to blend together, I realize that life is slipping away. MY life is slipping away.

What happened to the woman who was so excited to be living THIS life? MY life? She’s still here. Somewhere.

I admit, I kind of went into a semi-coma there after returning home from the Camino. I think I just needed time to SIT. But now… now I just feel lazy. Sloth-like, you might even say.

I miss rhythm… routine… I miss having a plan, a purpose. What am I doing with my life????

This morning I had a chance to think about all of this. If I could live any kind of life, what would it look like? What are my priorities? What brings me happiness? What does my heart truly desire? What do I want more than anything else in the world? If I could create the best possible life for me, what would it look like?

The answers I came up with did not necessarily surprise me. What surprised me was my immediate excitement and willingness to make changes to achieve those goals. It was as if something finally clicked inside, and I realized that if I did X, Y, and Z, then I might actually achieve that “best life” I had dreamed about. How exciting is that?

So, I am making choices and it feels good. But what feels really good is knowing that all of these choices are leading (God-willing) to a good and happy life. My life. A life of rhythm and repose.

Camino Updates

I have updated a few of the Camino pages listed on the right hand side, under “Additional Information.”

I added photos to “Camino Food,” updated “Camino Gear,” and added “Camino Waymarks.” I also wrote a new blog entry called “Camino Q&A.” Enjoy!

If you are planning on walking the Camino and have any questions, just let me know. I’m happy to help!

Camino Q&A

I have received a lot of questions about the Camino and I thought I would put them in writing. If you have additional questions, just let me know!

Q: What kind of news do you get about home? Anything about the upcoming election, or are you like “it can wait.”

A: We actually didn’t get a lot of news while on the Camino. One day we stopped at a bar and we saw Bush on Spanish news with the words $700 Billion, and we knew something big was going on. It wasn’t until I got back though that I really learned what “The Bailout” was all about. That was the extent of the US news we received. Incidentally, Spain received some major flooding in their southern regions while we were there, and so we did see some coverage of that.

Q: Do you and Ann dine mostly alone or with others?

A: Breakfast and lunch was usually with just the two of us. As for dinners… I’d say at the beginning of the Camino the two of us ate alone, but near the end of the Camino we usually had dinner with other pilgrims we met along the way.

Q: What do people most want to know about you when you meet them (after they find out you are American and don’t speak much Spanish)?

A: Conversation among pilgrims usually revolves around three things: 1) Distance (kilometers walked that day, since we started the Camino, and remaining until Santiago). 2) Foot health (how many blisters and how big). And 3) Snoring. (It amazing how many different types of snoring there are.)

When you start to get to know other pilgrims, conversations will then go a little deeper and you find out a little more about each other. But for the most part, those three topics dominate pilgrim conversations. (And, yes, it does get old.)

Q: Are you up front with them about your night-blindness and “low vision” or do you wait to talk about it until they bring it up?

A: I only ended up telling a handful of people about my vision loss. It’s not that I was trying to hide it, it’s just that often times there really wasn’t a point to bringing it up. Most people we met we only saw a handful of times and conversations wouldn’t go that “deep.” Or, an opportunity to share just never came up.

Q: Has your vision been a problem more so on the Camino vs. if you had just stayed home, or is it about the same kind of challenge still?

A: In essence, vision loss is a challenge no matter where you are. However, trying to traverse 400 miles of sometimes very rocky and uneven surfaces definitely presented a greater challenge than simply walking around the house, where I have already identified furniture, steps and other hazards.

I think it’s fair to say that familiar surroundings are always going to be preferred by anyone with vision loss, but that doesn’t mean that they should never venture out. What kind of life would that be?

Q: Have you felt safe most of the time, or are you being very conscious of where your money and bags are all the time, etc., and watching your back always out of the corner of your eye?

A: Ann and I were amazed at how safe we each felt while walking the Camino. That said, you should always be aware of your surroundings, and keep an eye on your possessions.

Pilgrims walking the Camino are protected by Spanish law. Offenses committed against them are taken very seriously. Sitting here now, I cannot remember a time when I felt any kind of danger. Some local people may not like all of the pilgrims constantly coming through their towns, but I never felt like I was ever in any kind of harm’s way.

Honestly, if I didn’t have vision loss and need some assistance on that front, I would feel comfortable walking the Camino by myself, a single woman.

Q: Is the Camino crowded? How many people are on it at the same time as you? Do you and Ann walk alone or find a group to walk with? Do people pass you up and walk faster?

A: There were some days that the Camino felt like a highway. We would climb to the top of a hill and look down the other side and see people all along the road. Other days, we wouldn’t run into anyone. Most days though, we would see a handful or people when they passed us. We were almost always the slowest people walking. Also, for the most part, Ann and I walked separately, each lost in our own thoughts.

Q: Would you do it again?

A: Ah, the million dollar question. When I first started walking, I often wondered why anyone would come back and do it a second, third, or more times. About two-thirds of the way through though, I began to understand why.

The Camino is unlike anything else in the world. It is a safe, reasonably affordable, well-marked journey that provides a unique opportunity to disconnect – from the world, from problems, from people, etc. Everyone I met on the Camino seemed to be at some sort of crossroads in their life.

The Camino was much tougher physically than I was prepared for. Low vision and aching feet made each day challenging. Also, the alburgues became as much of a challenge for me as the walking. Because of my vision loss, I was never fully able to relax when I stayed in an alburgue. I would always have to be on high alert, looking out for boots and backpacks and other gear. Plus, I’m an introvert and I never got the “alone time” I needed at the end of the day.

But then there were the spiritual highs I experienced during the walking day, the times when I was able to transcend any physical or emotional issues I was having and focus solely on God. During those times, I never wanted the Camino to end.

So, would I do it again?

Yes.

I can’t believe I just wrote that. But, yes. I would walk it again. Now that I’m back at home, and the physical pain has subsided, I keep thinking about the time I spent in prayer with God. It was amazing and unlike anything I had ever experienced. It alone was worth every step.

The Return Home

“As you may know, I spent the last three months in Africa. A wondrous, magical place. But as shadows lengthen across the KBHR window, thoughts turn to homecoming. Journey’s end. Because in a sense it’s the coming back, the return, which gives meaning to the going forth. We really don’t know where we’ve been until we’ve come back to where we were. Only, where we were may not be as it was because of who we’ve become. Which, after all, is why we left.”
–Bernard, “Northern Exposure” Episode 3.21

Homecoming. Journey’s end. The return home.

It has been one week since I have returned. In that time, I have been catching up with family and friends, and rediscovering the joys of the mundane:

• Using shampoo AND conditioner, instead of a 2-in-1
• Not sleeping in a sleeping bag
• Doing laundry. For free. In a machine.
• Not wearing the same clothes every day
• Getting my haircut
• Walking up and down grocery store aisles in giddy excitement at all the food choices

I have also been watching the news and can now tell you what “The Bailout” is and who “joe the Plumber” most likely voted for on Election Day.

Mostly though, I have been reflecting… contemplating my recent 400-mile achievement and my unknown future… wondering how I can use the momentum from one to move ahead in the other.

Part of me feels lost and uncertain. Displaced. I have so much freedom, yet so little direction. Where do I go from here?

That said, another part of me feels found. My faith has been solidified. My purpose has been discovered. My confidence has been boosted from accomplishing such an outrageous goal.

How do I unite my lost with my found to create my future?

Baby steps, I guess. Living life one decision at a time. Living life with patience. Grace.

It’s a work in progress, but that’s where I am today. We’ll see what tomorrow brings.

Photos are UP!

Greetings All,

Thought you might like to know that I have added photos of the Camino to the blog! Use the calendar to click on a date between September 8 and October 27 to see the photos taken on that day.

I’m still planning on adding a few more things to the Camino section of the blog – info on waymarking, contour maps for daily walks, etc. I’ll let you know when that info is up.

Also, a new general blog entry is coming soon, detailing the riveting life of unemployed Luci. I know, you can’t wait, can you?

Happy Election Day!

Eat. Sleep. Read. at the End of the Earth

Okay, so I´m taking a page out of Elizabeth Gilbert´s book “Eat. Pray. Love.” (Which, incidentally, I very much enjoyed.)

Eat, sleep and read is pretty much what I have been up do since arriving in Santiago last Thursday. Here´s a rundown of the events from the past few days:

Thursday – Arrive in Santiago! Jubilee!

Friday – Sleep in. Run errands. Eat delicious food. Run more errands. Found a bookshop that sells books in English and purchased two. Eat again. Sleep.

Saturday – Bus to Fisterre! Fisterre is also known as “Finis terre” or “end of the earth.” Before people realized the earth was round, they really thought Fisterre was the edge of the world. I had originally hoped to walk from Santiago to Fisterre (a distance of about 100 kilometers), but lack of time and energy soon turned that dream into a 21€ round-trip bus ticket. So, Saturday morning we woke up early, headed to the bus station and jumped on board for the two and a half hour ride.

We arrived in Fisterre around 11:30 a.m. Hungry and tired, we checked into the first hotel we saw, dumped our bags and then went in search for food. But, because the Spanish are sooooo… Spanish, they don´t serve lunch until 1:00, so we had to settle for a sandwich and a bag of chips. After leaving the bar, we found a grocery store, stocked up on junk food, and headed back to our hotel room where we proceeded to eat, sleep, and read the rest of the day. It was FABULOUS. Just what this weary pilgrim needed.

View from Hotel Finisterre window

Sunday – We slept in, of course, got some breakfast and then headed out the door for the 7 kilometer round trip walk to the Fisterre lighthouse.

Cape Fisterre

Believe it or not, it actually felt good to walk again. But what felt really good, was literally walking to the end of the earth. After 400 miles across Spain, I finally felt like I crossed the finish line when we walked by the “0.0 kilometers remaining” sign. At last, my Camino came to an end.

We took some time and sat on the rocks overlooking the Atlantic Ocean. I have seen the Atlantic many times from the east coast of the United States, but I had never had the opportunity to gaze on it, looking west. It was wonderful and peaceful, and just the conclusion I had hoped for. Ann and I recounted some of the memories from our trip, and it was such a lovely way to bring the journey to an end. I feel really grateful that we made the effort to go there.

"End of the Earth" at Faro Finisterre

End of the Earth

After the lighthouse, we walked back to town where we proceeded to…. you guessed it… Eat. Sleep. and Read. In two days, I ate a box of cookies, read the two books I purchased in Santiago, and slept approximately 20 hours. Fab-u-lous.

Monday, Today – Woke up, took a three hour bus ride back to Santiago, which is where I currently sit, passing time, until our overnight train leaves for Madrid. Tomorrow we will meet back up with Sofie, and pick up the belongings we shipped to her in the middle of the Camino. Wednesday we fly HOME.

(In case you´re curious, I purchased two additional books today, which will hopefully get me through the train and plane ride home.)

As for home… I can´t wait. I really can´t wait. Not because the pilgrimage has been much more difficult than I expected (which it has), or because I miss you, my family and friends (which I do), but because I am just so excited to get going with my life.

And, NO, I did not magically discover what I should be doing for the rest of my life. I am excited about the unknown. I am excited about the possibilities. I am excited to just SEE what is going to happen next. Like the books I read over the weekend, I am just so excited to keep flipping pages of my life and see what the next chapter brings.

Which brings to mind the blog post I wrote in August called “Ridiculous Bliss” about the day I realized that I was just excited to be living THIS life. MY life. Once again, I am filled with that excitement. My life is far from perfect, but it´s mine and I am so thankful I get to live it. So thankful.

It is time to return home now. Home to my family. Home to my friends. Home to the unknown. I hope you´ll continue to join me on my journey as I flip the page and see what the next chapter brings!

Blessings from España,
Luci

0.00 Kilometers Remaining

Jubilee in Santiago de Compostela

Santiago de Compostela Cathedral

We Made It! 400 Miles in 41 days of walking.

FOUR HUNDRED MILES in FOURTY ONE DAYS. (Actually, it took 43 days, but two of them were rest days, so I´m not counting them.)

400 miles. Amazing.

Can you believe it? I can´t believe it.

The last two days went really well. No rain, just tired bodies and feet, but spirits were high.

Yesterday, as I started my last day of walking, I declared to Ann that it was to be a “Day of Jubilee.” I felt such joy! It was the best way I could find to express all of the joy in my heart. And, right before we arrived in Santiago, we climbed our last Galacian hill called Monto de Gozo, which translates to Mount of Joy. It was there we saw our first sights of Santiago de Compostela. Jubilee on Mount Joy!

Once we arrived in the city center around 2:00 p.m., it took us a couple hours to find lodging, but we finally did. At last, our pilgirmage was over. At least the physical one is over. I can only imagine the ways it will continue spiritually…

The Day of Jubilee was capped off with one last international pilgrim dinner with Penny and Terry (sisters from Canada), Niel and Mia (friends from Denmark), Rowan and Aiden (father and son from Ireland), and Ann and myself. (I even managed to have some chocolate cake, which only added to the jubilee.) As Ann and I walked back to our hotel after dinner, we walked among some street musicians playing traditional Galacian music. It was a perfect end of day to an incredible journey.

This morning, we treated ourselves to a nice long sleep in (9:00 a.m.) and then went and got our Compostelas from the Pilgrim Office in Santiago. The Compostela is basically a fancy certificate saying that we walked at least 100 kilometers to Santiago. (When I get home, I´ll scan it and post it on here for you.)

I have to be honest… this whole time, walking to Santiago, I didn´t think the Compostela would be a big deal for me. I mean, it´s just a piece of paper. But for some reason, it really meant a lot to me when I finally received it. It felt like exactly what it was… some kind of official recognition of everything I went through: the blisters, the tears, the foot pain, but also the joy, and peace, and love. When I look at that certificate, I don´t just see fancy writing… I see everything I went through to get here.

After receiving our Compostelas, we headed to the pilgrim´s mass at the Cathedral with 1000 of our closest international friends. After that, we treated ourselves to a nice lunch and now, here I am, sitting in an internet cafe in the middle of an ancient city that has been a pilgrimage destination for millions of people for more than a thousand years.

I have to admit, I´m feeling pretty proud of myself at the moment. One of the many reasons I wanted to do this pilgrimage was to simply see if I could do it. And I did. I had no idea that I was capable of such a thing. It makes me wonder what else I could do if I set my mind to it. It makes me wonder what anyone could do with enough love and support and courage.

Four Hundred Miles.
Four hundred miles of mountains and meseta.
Four hundred miles with 75 percent vision loss.
Four hundred miles of foot pain.
Four hundred miles of new friends, new thinking, and renewed faith.
Four hundred miles leading me to JOY.

“Stand at the crossroads and look;
ask for the ancient paths,
ask where the good way is, and walk in it,
and you will find rest for your souls.”
–Jeremiah 6:16 (NIV)

Photos from October 23, 2008

Signs leading to Monte Gozo

Monte do Gozo (Mount Joy)

Sculpture at Monte do Gozo

My "white" shirt after 41 days and 400 miles. And, yes, I washed it every night.