Published: July 2023
I haven’t done any traveling by myself for a very long time. In my 20’s I spent two weeks traveling alone in Kathmandu, Varanasi, Agra, and Delhi India after finishing a 4-H exchange program in Nepal, and a few years later, a month alone in Mexico and Guatemala. My motives then were a lot about capacity building. I, of course, was hugely curious about the world so it provided a welcomed arena for growing my confidence. I was also spiritually driven to understand other cultures and religions so that I had a way of making sense of my own. And really, to figure out what I believed and the path I wanted to live my life on.
Now, over 40 years later, I’m out here alone again. I’m meeting people from around the world without the acrutraments of a husband, child, friend, or work identity in toe. There’s nothing really defining me, well, except for “me” and what shows up in me to put out there.
One might imagine at age 66 that I’d have a pretty strong sense of who Karen is. And in many ways I do. I have a long history of self inquiry and have valued doing various forms of personal development work throughout my life. But I also feel that some of my defining edges have blurred as I have been more focused on my external world as a spouse, a mother, a social worker, an aunt, a sister, a daughter, and a friend. I was yearning for a sharpening of who I am.
Groundwork was laid for the siren’s call of the Camino to beckon me and it was clear from my first thought that I needed to walk it solo. This needed to be my own personal retreat – a time to be with myself through 175 miles of walking, and to get grounded in who Karen is today, at this moment, with this history — losses and gains — and with these current yearnings.
So here I am sitting in Santiago by myself.
And doing well!
Since I cut off all communication with family and friends, including mi amore, Esteban, until the night before my last day of walking, I’ve had an opportunity to really miss people! I’ve loved that honestly— going without communication as an opportunity to deeply appreciate the beauty of talking and sharing with loved ones. For some reason that has felt important to crystallize. I talked with Steven, Lily, and Morgan on the night before I finished my walk (day 14) and my love for them was as rich as it has ever been. I look forward to connecting with other family members and friends soon.
Grateful is ultimately the word that describes what I feel in the extreme right now. I am clearly one of the lucky people on the planet. Just being here on the Camino represents privilege — privilege of resources, privilege of physical ability, privilege of confidence, and so many other privileges. I am grateful that my hip held up and I didn’t need to call a taxi on my 30 kilometer day of walking. I am grateful that I may have enough joint functionality and stamina to walk the Camino Frances, the 500 plus mile route from the French Pyrenees across Spain. I am most grateful that I have family and friends that I get to share love with.
That sharpening of self mentioned above, did show up in different ways, some surprising. I felt it on the day that I walked 30 plus kilometers and had to dig into deep reserves to accomplish it. I felt it when Edward from Washington State told me about the death of his best friend, his ensuing depression, and why this prompted him to walk the Camino Frances last year. I felt it when I passed Ingrid from Sweden, relaxing at a stop, who saw me and hustled to catch up because I looked like someone she “wanted to talk to.” I felt it when 3 young English friends I’d met earlier in the walk enthusiastically greeted me as I was about to enter the Santiago De Compostela Cathedral square. I felt it when I saw a young man sitting on the ground in front of the Cathedral, clearly having just finished a walk, and I asked him how his Camino was. He spoke slowly and had tears in his eyes and said “magnificent” and then told me about it.
I also felt a sharpening and a groundedness as I spent hours alone, writing in my journal, writing my blog, and walking hours and hours by myself, one Karen step after another.
Today, during my last walk by the Cathedral, there was something slightly different about me. It wasn’t that I felt a lot changed, but perhaps just a little. The bagpipes played in the background while newly arriving pilgrims danced their way to the end of their particular, unique, and beautiful Camino walks. The sky looked a little bluer, the people I passed a little happier, and I recognized a lightness and appreciation in my attitude and my step that made my eyes water.
This walk validated that personal retreats are enriching on a heart and soul level for me. I love people and completely enjoy being social, but I also benefit from retreat — taking a break from my normal routine, taking time away from familiar relationships, and spending time alone, intermixed with meeting new people. As long as I am able, I love this mixture of retreat and movement and hope to do something yearly that can combine the two.
I think that’s enough, for now, about why I came to do a Camino. I suspect distance will give me additional perspective so I may return to this question in a future blog post with the hope that it will keep my Camino experience alive in me.
Buen Camino
