The Camino and Me

The Camino and Me
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  • My Camino Story
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    • Camino Frances Introduction, Cork – St Jean Pied de Port
      • Day 1; St Jean Pied de Port – Roncesvalles
      • Day 2; Roncesvalles – Zubiri
      • Day 3; Zubiri – Pamplona
      • Day 4; Pamplona to Obanos
      • Day 5; Obanos – Estella
      • Day 6; Estella – Los Arcos
      • Day 7; Los Arcos – Logroño
      • Day 8; Logroño – Ventosa
      • Day 9; Ventosa – Cirueña
      • Day 10; Cirueña – Santo Domingo de la Calzada
      • Day 11; Santo Domingo – Belorado
      • Day 12; Belorado – San Juan de Ortega
      • Day 13; San Juan de Ortega – Burgos
      • Day 14; Burgos – Hontanas
      • Day 15; Hontanas – Castrojeriz
      • Day 16; Castrojeriz – Frómista
      • Day 17; Frómista – Carrión de los Condes
      • Day 18; Carrión de los Condes – Ledigos
      • Day 19; Ledigos – Calzadilla de los Hermanillos
      • Day 20; Calzadilla de los Hermanillos – Mansilla de las Mulas
      • Day 21; Mansilla de las Mulas – León
      • Day 22; Leon – Hospital de Órbigo
      • Day 23; Hospital de Órbigo – Astorga – 15 km
      • Day 24; Astorga – Foncebadón – 27.2 km
      • Day 25; Foncebadón- Ponferrada – 25 km
      • Day 26; Ponferrada – Villafranca del Bierzo – 23.5 km
      • Day 27; Villafranca del Bierzo – La Faba – 25 km
      • Day 28; La Faba – Triacastela – 26 km
      • Day 29; Triacastella – Sarria – 25 km
      • Day 30; Sarria – Portomarín – 22.4 km
      • Day 31; Portomarín – Palas de Rei – 24.8 km
      • Day 32; Palas de Rei – Ribadiso – 25.8 km
      • Day 33; Ribadiso – Lavacolla – 32 km
      • Day 34: Lavacolla – Santiago and Goodbye
      • The Camino and Me
  • Themes
    • Stepping into the Ring
    • Clear Intention
    • Enjoying the mystery
    • Fear and Courage
    • Risk and Vulnerability
    • Meeting and Letting go
    • Giving In
  • Tag: camino de santiago

    • Day 34: Lavacolla – Santiago and Goodbye

      Posted at 6:03 pm by Mary Murphy, on April 13, 2020

      I left the hotel joyfully in the morning, knowing that I was walking the final ten kilometres to Santiago. On the way I met the three amigos (Frank, Jill and Brett) and we stopped at Monte de Gozo, five kilometres from Santiago, to catch a glimpse of the city below. An hour or so later we entered the old town with its narrow streets and lovely artisan shops. Although they were charming, all I really wanted to see was the cathedral spire, and when it came into view, all roads led to Santiago de Compostela. Once we arrived in the square in front of the cathedral I left my rucksack in the care of others while I headed for the swanky Parador to use their facilities and Brett went to find his hotel.

      Inside the cathedral we searched for a seat, but it appeared they were all taken until some people squeezed a little closer to accommodate Frank, while Jill and I pitched our rucksacks against a stone column and got ourselves comfortable. Then we waited, and when Brett arrived he joined us on the floor. During Mass I felt completely at home. I thought of my mother, in particular, whose anniversary it was, and of a friend who was having an operation that day. I didn’t say formal prayers – I didn’t have the words and they didn’t seem necessary – I just held them in my heart and hoped that would be enough. Then I walked to receive Holy Communion, each footstep a sincere prayer of gratitude for the privilege of being there.

      Outside after Mass, I looked around to see who else I knew and I met Eugene. He told me that he had decided to leave Santiago in the afternoon and take a bus to where his wife was staying in Portugal. That had not been his intention when the day started and he still had to break the news to his walking companion, Heather. While I was surprised that he wasn’t staying to celebrate, at the same time I understood his desire to be reunited with his wife. Such a journey has a profound impact on the heart.

      In the evening I met my Brazilian friend Manoel who had been such a significant support to me in the first two weeks. The last time I had seen him was in Ponferrada where he was recuperating for a few days. I was delighted to learn that he had walked the last one hundred kilometres, despite the injury that had stopped him in his tracks ten days earlier.

      Last Supper Contingent

      Later I joined Mike, Jackie, Brett, Frank and Jill among others for the last supper and had a wonderful meal, followed by churros (doughnuts) with hot chocolate. But afterwards I headed away early to be alone with my loss, while my comrades seemed to be in more celebratory mood. In the last few days leading up to my arrival in Santiago I didn’t want the Camino to end. Of course I wanted to arrive in Santiago, but I didn’t want the adventure to be over. I had been on a long walk with my soul, exploring and discovering its deepest longing, and although it had been the most difficult experience of my life, it was also the most transformative, all of which meant that being in Santiago was bittersweet – the joy of arriving and the sadness of ending. For me, it was like being without my best friend.

      Earlier in the day when I had picked up my Camino certificate, I noticed how little it meant. In 2011, I had received a certificate of completion for walking the last one hundred kilometres of the Camino and it had meant a lot to me. Second time around I didn’t need it; I knew I had walked the Camino. It had taken me thirty-four days and my achievement felt deeply personal. Its meaning was something only I could know, and there was no certificate for that!

      Next day while I sat in a café over breakfast, I noticed a line of rucksacks resting against the counter and my heart jumped with longing to still be part of the pilgrim community. I assumed they were heading to Finisterre to meet the sea and what is known as the end of the world, and I wanted to go with them! But this part of my Camino was over. I had just one call to make before leaving; my last trip to the cathedral. Outside, a security guard prevented tourists entering during Mass. As Mass was already in progress, I knew it was pointless to pretend that that was what I had come for, so I told him the truth: I wanted to say goodbye. He indicated that that was good enough and stood back to allow me to enter. Inside, Mass was in full flow and I rested against another of the stone columns, absorbing fully what I was experiencing in my heart. I felt full of gratitude and love for the one who guided me, while I acknowledged, too, the heartbreak of the losses along the way.

      At the time I didn’t know what affect the Camino would have on me or how it would change my life. Now, I see it as the threshold that divides my life: the life before and the life after.

      The Camino is in me now.

      Posted in Day by Day | 1 Comment | Tagged Camino Certificate, camino de santiago, Finisterre, Goodbye, gratitude, guidance, heartbreak, Lavacolla, longing, Loss, Monte de Gozo, Ponferrada, Santiago, Santiago de Compostela, Soul walk, threshold, transformative
    • Day 17; Frómista – Carrión de los Condes

      Posted at 5:57 pm by Mary Murphy, on March 27, 2020

      I had been walking the Meseta for a couple of days and felt I had entered a different phase of the Camino. There were fewer people, stops and shelter, along with much less variety in the terrain and an elusive horizon far off in the distance. Everything seemed to stretch out. Maybe I had stretched out too; I had certainly slowed down. At last I seemed to accept that there was no such thing as getting ahead.

      When I arrived in Carrión de los Condes, I headed for the parish albergue where I met two beautiful young nuns, Maria from Spain and Diane from Peru. At the check-in desk, Maria sat with the male hospitalero inviting pilgrims to join her and Diane for a sing-song before evening Mass. At the appointed time, about twenty of us sat in the foyer in anticipation of being entertained – well, that’s what I anticipated anyway – but before any singing began, we were each asked to introduce ourselves and say what we were looking for from the Camino. I hadn’t expected that. Not only did I feel the discomfort of the truth in the pit of my stomach, I was also first in line to speak. With a shaky voice and a pounding heart I said I was looking for oneness, and just to add to my discomfort, I was asked to repeat what I had said! My mind questioned then whether I had said too much – or perhaps too little; had I been understood? Worst of all, had I sounded too holy?

      After Mass the priest, with the help of Maria’s translation, invited the pilgrim congregation to join him around the altar to receive a blessing. Twenty or so of us stood in readiness for what I anticipated would be a group blessing when unexpectedly, the priest asked us to approach him individually. As he laid his hands on each person’s head, Diane sang in joyful accompaniment, and when I looked over at her through my tears she just nodded. I felt she was saying, yes, it’s all here for you. Then when it was my turn, I walked slowly and as consciously as I could to stand in front of the priest. It was an experience I wanted to savour. I didn’t want to miss a thing, and when I received the blessing, I felt the innocent gratitude of a child truly received. In fact it was like making my first communion all over again.

      Over the previous two weeks I had received a number of blessings, some particularly special, but none compared to that night.

      Posted in Day by Day | 0 Comments | Tagged albergue, Blessing, camino de santiago, Camino Frances, Carrion de los Condes, Meseta, oneness, pilgrim
    • Day 16; Castrojeriz – Frómista

      Posted at 5:53 pm by Mary Murphy, on March 26, 2020

      In the morning the hotel was eerily quiet with no signs of life – so different to waking up in an albergue. At the water fountain I filled my bottle while I observed activity outside the hostel nearby and kept my eye out for people I knew who might have slept there. On the steep climb out of Castrojeriz I thought about Kathy and wondered whether she would need to take another rest day and, of course, if I would meet her again. Then after the exertion of the climb, I stopped for water and rest while I enjoyed the rewarding view back across the valley floor as the early dawn blossomed into full expansive light.

      To my surprise, day sixteen marked the arrival of my first blister – after two weeks I had begun to believe that I was fated to walk the Camino without any. The burn began before I stopped for coffee, but I didn’t investigate, so my eventual concern and subsequent treatment was delayed, and for that I would pay the price.

      While I walked I enjoyed the solitude, and perhaps for the first time on the Camino I was really in sync with myself, immersed in the rhythm of my own body and soul. At times I felt absolutely at one with my environment, while after reading Conversations with God, I had more compassion for my struggle to accept and be open about my spirituality. For lunch I settled under a tree by the river where it was incredibly quiet and peaceful. That day, lunch comprised more white bread and a tin of tuna. I had bought a pack of three small tins a few days earlier and they proved very handy on the days when cafés were at a premium. Dessert was a gorgeous doughnut-shaped peach.

      Arriving later at the albergue in Frómista, I stopped on the way in to chat with Christine who was outside washing clothes. Inside, the place was lovely – well, as lovely as you can get with twenty-odd bunks in one long room and very little natural light. The bunks were newish with proper deep mattresses, unlike at some albergues where the bunks were old and the mattresses very thin. There was also a bench in the room, which meant I had somewhere to sit while I carried out blister repairs. Christine sat beside me while I treated my feet, telling me about the challenges she faced on the Camino. Listening to her helped me feel less alone in my own struggle, and not quite so odd after all.

      The albergue offered an evening meal, although the dining room was too small and intimate for me to feel comfortable. What I wanted was to blend in and feel anonymous so I went to a hotel for my pilgrim meal and the obligatory red wine! I also thought I was less likely to bump into people I knew there, particularly Eugene and Heather. I felt they didn’t understand me and I had a sense, sometimes, that they wanted to change me. It was as though we spoke two different languages.

      Back at the albergue Christine asked me about dinner; she knew I had gone out. When I told her where I had been, she was surprised that I had gone on my own. Although I knew I could have joined her and Sylvia for dinner, I also knew that I was unable to make small talk. It would have required too much effort on my part. The Camino was bringing up a lot for me to process, and that was where my energy was engaged.

      Posted in Day by Day | 0 Comments | Tagged Camino, camino de santiago, Camino Frances, inner camino
    • Day 11; Santo Domingo – Belorado

      Posted at 4:25 pm by Mary Murphy, on February 9, 2020

      As I left Santo Domingo I began walking with Wolfgang, a young German man in his mid to late thirties. Although initially I wasn’t entirely sure I wanted to walk with him, I allowed myself to find out. The previous evening we had sat across from one another at the dining table in the albergue. He had tried to include me in conversation with the people he knew at the table. However, I had retreated back into myself and it wasn’t easy to draw me out. It really says a lot about someone who continues to act kindly in the face of little encouragement. So having had that experience with Wolfgang I was positively predisposed towards him. After three or four kilometres together we were joined by Eugene, an Irishman from Cork who lived on the Isle of Man. He was walking the Camino with an Irish woman and a group of Canadians.

      As we approached the first village I could see the bar was busy and some people were sitting outside, amongst them the two Dutch ladies I had paid little attention to, as well as members of Eugene’s walking group. Instead of heading straight for the bar as I hoped, Wolfgang unexpectedly went into the church, and as soon as I saw him disappear, I felt lost. I wasn’t sure what to do. Although I wanted a rest over coffee, suddenly that seemed next to impossible. For some unknown reason I felt unable to walk into the bar with Eugene. To buy some time, I went into the church too. Really I was just hiding while I tried to work out what to do. In the end I decided to walk on.

      At the next village, four kilometres later, I stopped for coffee and within about ten minutes I was joined by Eugene while he waited for one of his group. He began by asking why I hadn’t stopped to join them earlier. In the face of his challenging enquiry, I lied and said I hadn’t felt the need to stop then. I decided it wasn’t a moment for truth. My experience of Eugene had already made me wary. I had the feeling that however unintentional it might be, he could trample on my sensitivities. In contrast, I felt safe with Wolfgang. With him I experienced kindness, gentleness and a respectful distance, while Eugene was a bit more of a bull in a china shop.

      In Belorado there were lots of places to stay, and as a result, the hospitaleros competed for pilgrim custom. One enterprising albergue owner came out to meet us, offering bottles of water while advertising his albergue at the same time. By coincidence it was his albergue that had already caught my attention so in my case his advertising wasn’t necessary. On the way inside, I met Elaine, one of the Canadians, and we both made reservations for the dinner the owners provided on site. Almost immediately I became aware of my attempts to ingratiate myself with Elaine. I was fully aware of what I was doing: I was trying to ensure I was part of the Irish/Canadian party for dinner.

      In the evening while we waited in the foyer before going in to dinner, I overheard someone say that Elaine had booked a table for six people. That worried me a little: I didn’t think it was necessary to book a table; I had assumed it would be a communal meal. Then I hoped I was the sixth person, as there were five members of the Irish/Canadian group. Wrong – it was a New Zealander named Les. I made the discovery while we waited in line on the stairs, and when I entered the dining room they were seated at a table for six. Other tables were set for smaller numbers and I wondered if they had also been reserved. I felt like a spare part. But more than anything I felt hurt by what I saw at the time as Elaine’s meanness. In the awkwardness of the moment, Les rose from his seat quickly, insisting I take it, saying he was the imposter. But the staff sprang into action and placed an extra chair at the end of the table, which I took. By then, whatever confidence I had about being there had evaporated, and in my mind I blamed Elaine for my discomfort. On more mature reflection, I know it would have been so much easier if I had asked to join them, thereby taking the power into my own hands, rather than placing it in someone else’s.

      With Eugene and Les either side of me, we talked about a variety of subjects. Les seemed a gentle, open soul, whereas I found I had little in common with Eugene. His conversation focused mostly on business, which is not something I have much interest in, and I had even less interest in what he had to say when he told me I was taking the Camino too seriously. His judgement felt really hurtful and stayed with me for days, although at the time I tried to conceal my feelings. I felt hurt because I knew I couldn’t have been more sincere in my endeavours, and yet somewhere within me I also knew there was a truth in what he said.

      Although I don’t know what prompted his comment, I imagine it may have been because of something repeated to him by Jeanie (one of the Canadians). When I had walked with her earlier in the day, I had told her I was seeking to experience a depth of inner aloneness, and that I was willing to tolerate the layers of vulnerability that came with it. On reflection, I realise that in some circles that makes me a little unusual. The notion of inner aloneness had come up at a retreat I attended a couple of months earlier. I understood it to mean the place beyond the illusion of separation, where inner aloneness is in fact experienced as unity with the Divine, rather than the aloneness I was more familiar with. And to experience unity I would need to dissolve the layers of separation.

      Posted in Day by Day | 0 Comments | Tagged albergue, Belorado, camino de santiago, Camino Frances, Divine, hospitaleros, illusion of separation, inner aloneness, lost, pilgrim, Santo Domingo, sincere, Soul, truth, unity, vulnerability
    • Risk and Vulnerability

      Posted at 8:54 pm by Mary Murphy, on January 21, 2013
      Señal del Camino
      Señal del Camino (Photo credit: gabsiq)

      On the second night I stayed in Zubiri, a fairly grim experience.  The albergue was as much like a concentration camp as I ever wanted to experience. During the night I got up, to go outside to the toilet, which meant walking across the yard in the rain. I had heard the rain before I got out of bed but I hadn’t remembered that my walking shoes were outside! Thankfully some good Samaritan had moved indoor so they were only partly wet. In the morning I was up early and it was still dark as I packed and dressed without disturbing others too much. After breakfast when the light was just about up I set off to find the yellow arrow that would direct me back onto the Camino.

      During the day I stopped for coffee outside Pamploma where I sat with Christian, a young German, who was walking alone that day as his girlfriend had taken the bus due to an injury.  We were sitting out in a wide open square with lots of tables and chairs, and although it was midday the place was almost empty. Christian then sprang the big question on me, why I was doing the Camino. I took a moment to consider his question as my answer felt very personal to me and I felt emotional before I responded. I was wondered, ‘will I give the real answer or tone it down to something bland’?  I realised being truthful would expose my vulnerability and I didn’t know if I was ready for that. However as I began to find the words, the tears came and I knew I couldn’t deny the truth “I have come to meet and be alone with myself”, I said. My companion asked “is that not something you can do in day to day life, without coming on the Camino”? I replied “no, I don’t think it is, there are lots of distractions and I can’t do it to the extent that I wish to”. 

      It was strange and surprising to discover that even on the Camino it was difficult for me to reveal and acknowledge the truth of why I was there. Even on the Camino I was afraid of being judged. I had thought that it would have been easy to be truthful as I assumed that others would have similar reasons for being there. In fact, lots of people I met seemed unsure, some for the challenge (the walk), some for time out to contemplate, for others it was on their bucket list and one person I met told me he was there to give thanks to God. In this exchange with Christian I was beginning to come out of hiding about the importance of my inner relationship with God (true nature, higher power) in my life.

      My sense is that we were all searching for something – connection, meaning, purpose – whether we were conscious of it or not.

      Posted in Themes | 2 Comments | Tagged albergue, Camino, camino de santiago, Connection, consciousness, courage, letting go, meaning, Risk, searching, truth, vulnerability, Zubiri
    • Clear Intention

      Posted at 3:28 pm by Mary Murphy, on January 9, 2013

      On the first night in St Jean Pied de Port I walked around the town to get a feel for it and to shop for provisions for my first day of walking beginning in the morning, the 27k trek across the Pyrenees to Roncesvalles. Then on my way back to the municipal albergue (pilgrim hostel) I noticed the church and I decided to enter. I sat down with my shopping bag beside me just absorbing the atmosphere. The church itself was small and was beautifully lit with candles. There were lots of people walking up and down, talking, taking pictures, lighting candles and saying prayers. After a while I felt quite moved and realised that I was going to make clear my camino intention here.

      I decided that I would walk up and light a candle as part of my intention ritual. There were, perhaps oddly, a lot of different types of candles to choose from and some of them were named ‘pilgrim candles’. However I found myself drawn not to the pilgrim candles but rather the long stemmed thin white candles and so I chose one of those. By now the whole experience felt very sacred and as I placed my candle I closed my eyes to find my true internal intention. I didn’t know what the answer was going to be, when I had thought about why I was doing the camino up to that point I might have said for stillness, connection, unity…but the word that arose loud and clear was ‘sincerity’. With tears flowing down my cheeks I promised that I would walk the camino with sincerity. With that any other concerns I felt were gone.

      The clarity and certainty of my intention towards the camino experience came back to me many times along the way. In times of doubt, confusion, disconnection, loneliness and struggle I reminded myself of my intention to be sincere and so I could feel more accepting of the emotions I really didn’t want to experience, they had their value and I needed to experience them too and it was sincere to do so.

      Posted in Themes | 0 Comments | Tagged camino de santiago, clarity, Intention
    • Fear and Courage

      Posted at 2:27 pm by Mary Murphy, on December 18, 2012

      Spiritual Calling

      When I decided to walk the Camino de Santiago, I was aware that I wanted to immerse myself in a holding container long enough for me to find out what is calling me. I had the sense that I was meant to be doing something else with my life and that I was holding back on what God had given me. In any event I knew my soul wasn’t being fully satisfied; there was a longing I needed to address. I hoped and indeed I expected the Camino to help me find the truth of that longing.

      Letting go

      I realised before I left home that the Camino was about letting go and trusting I would be okay, although I couldn’t anticipate how the challenges would present themselves. But really the energy of the Camino started before I left Cork! The easy part was making the decision to go, a couple of months ahead of time it seemed no problem, I thought ‘I can’t wait’. However as the departure date got closer, I became more fearful, I was going to have to let go of whatever control I had in my life, my comfort, my livelihood, my emotional crutches and safety nets and surrender to the unfolding experience of Camino life.

      So to go at all I needed to let go of what was familiar and face the vulnerability that arose in the absence of the crutches and the safety nets. That took courage and more importantly it took a level of belief in the possibility and of my own potential and trust in the universe. To grow requires a will to do so, no one said this would be easy but then neither is it easy to live life in the shadows.

      Posted in Themes | 4 Comments | Tagged camino de santiago, control, courage, emotional crutches, familiar, holding back, immersion, Intention, letting go, longing, pilgrimage, potential, Soul, spiritual calling, surrender, trusting, truth, vulnerability
    • Mary Murphy

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      21-23 Oliver Plunkett Street, Cork
      0833518131
      marymmur@gmail.com

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