Part 2 Camino

The walk: Porto to where I stopped.

I started to write this several times and I stopped. It’s sort of like the Camino for me. I got started but could not finish.

The mileage I did in Holland, Germany, Portugal and Spain added up to about 90 miles. Not all that impressive for a Bigger, Faster, Stronger guy, but I’m not one of those guys anymore. Was I ever?

I walked. I talked. I felt my feet get hot.

The blisters I had grew. A new one appeared. Compeed was applied. I changed socks and walked.

The rain came about the same time the pain began to scream from my knees. What an opportunity to reflect. What an opportunity for introspection. What a crazy idea this Camino was.

I put on dry socks. Liberally rubbed CBD ointment on my knees. That night I took ibuprofen.

I trudged. I realized that we, the group, were trudging. I was grumpy. I lashed out.

Subtle words spoken harshly it’s my style. The sinful self. Just missing the mark. Just a bit arrogant. Just a bit of a meaningless mess.

I was called out. The transgression pointed out. Realization struck me.

I admitted my wrongdoing. I confessed my conceit. I asked for forgiveness.

I was restored. We all needed rest for our bodies. We took two days off.

Then two days later the Camino called and we trudged on. About four miles from the hotel my knees could go no more. I headed for a distant gas station. The group followed along.

The gas station attendant called a cab. We made it to the hotel. The hotel had a Masseuse. I made an appointment.

She was a small, older Portuguese lady who spoke impeccable English. I told her about my knees. She worked on them for an hour.

Then she said, “Well Matthew, our time is over.” She left. I put my shirt back on and slipped into my flip flops. I met her in the waiting room where she told me that from a professional standpoint I needed to stop and rest for several days at a minimum. I knew that my Camino attempt was over.

I have been reading Sean Dietrich’s posts about his walk on the Camino. He and his wife are doing the French route. Yesterday I read about him having such rough shin splints that he had to stop.

I really appreciate Sean’s posts. He gets into it and he is an excellent writer. I read his post this morning sitting in the Chapel waiting for the service to begin.

I sensed the tears before I felt them well up in my eyes.  What is this salty discharge? I gaze at the cross, draped with that white robe. I gaze as the tears fall.

Tears for all the loss. Tears for the pain. Tears for the joy of restoration. Tears for hope. Tears for now.

It’s the ‘being in the moment’ that is so hard to do. The moment fades and I still have these memories. I can’t help but think back. It’s like there is something inside of me that has not finished with the past. So, I must think about it.

PTS (Post Traumatic Stress) is about a real right now moment induced from a moment that happened some time before. That’s why it’s called ‘Post.” I know something about PTS. Many of y’all reading this do also. And often we ponder and place the question, ‘why,’ in the forefront of our minds.

What would happen if we embrace the past along with hope for the future. What if we saw the cross more often. What would happen if we pondered the crucifix. What would happen if everyone embraced the idea that we are all in this together?

We are all in this together. We are all our brothers and sisters keepers. We are responsible for one another.

Am I showing you the care and love that I am able to?

Christ said that when they force you to walk one mile then walk the second mile with them also. He directs us to turn the other cheek. He compels us to love one another.

I’ve walked a couple miles. I walked a couple on this Camino. But how can I go the second mile? How can I turn the other cheek? How can I love you?

I don’t know all the answers. I guess I’ll just keep reading Sean’s posts. I’ll keep trying. I’ll keep playing music. I’ll keep investing in your life and mine. I’ll commit to growth.

And I will seek out the moments before the cross. I will carve out time to sit before the cross and think about all that Christ has done.