I smile when I see the graffiti of hundreds saying ¨Animo! Animo!¨ the closer I get to the end. All during the trail I have loved the fact that semi truck drivers and farmers in tractors and drivers in cars will honk at you and wave you on. Tomorrow is the final push and I savor the encouragement.
On the trail today there was a simple stone memorial to Guillermo Watts, a pilgrim who died right there, one day away from Santiago, in the early 1990´s. Pilgrims had placed rocks on the memorial (this is the token symbol of pilgrim respect). But someone had placed an old straw hat there too, and another person a bandaid. Which made me laugh and get a little lump in my throat at the same time.
As I get closer to Santiago, I am conscious of the fact that I have taken over 900 pictures, and this is after I have deleted the shitte ones every day. I realize my friends and family love me, but they might just mutiny if I make them stare at 20 pictures of the same Romanesque cloister, first in color, then in the muy artistico sepia.
Peace is descending on me now. Today there were melancholy moments when I recalled glimpses of this experience that made me think I never want to leave. Like when I sit alone in an old stone farmhouse, nursing a glass of wine and reading my guidebook, or when I notice the spring flowers blooming like pink and white candies dotting the forest floor, like when I am standing alone in front of a 13th century church portal, the creative power of ancient masters whispering to me through the carved stone.
But then I remember home and I think am ready to go there. I am missing my cozy bed, and reliable heat, and regular hot water and predictable toilet seats. I am looking forward to vegetables, and a laxative. I am looking forward to my own shower (at least if my shower is dirty and mildewy, I know it is my own dirt and mildew I am showering in). I am looking forward to pizza, and my friends, and my nieces. I am looking forward to rebuilding my life, stone by stone, carving in each the newly acquired wisdom of a painful past and the verdant hopes and dreams of a wide open future, but with the sincerest intent to live life in the now.
I am ready.
2 comments:
And we're ready for you!
i want to sit through all of those pictures! especially the sepia colored ones :)
Will you come tell my classes about your experience? maybe you can do a sort of "personal pilgrimage" project with them... hm. i can't wait to sit down and talk over cool ideas with you-- you're probably sprouting them like a fern in haiti :)
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