Mist and rain

The last two days have offered us mist and rain plus a long climb to the 1250 meters high alto pollo.  We had short day and nice stay in Los Herriros before powering up a 600 meter climb.  A good breakfast and a good nights sleep makes all the difference in the world.

Throughout that day of climbing the mist would change to rain and we would slowly get wetter and then with a break our clothes would dry out.  Our first day of mist and rain ended in the village of Pintin at very welcoming Albergue. We had a private room with a tub for 26€.  The village was essentially in the middle of a dairy farm with the expected smell and mess on the road.  However the room was quiet, clean and had a heater to dry our clothes.  

Walking in the mist for most of two days offers a different perspective on the surroundings.  The world is closed in.  A fellow pilgrim would pass us or we them and 10 meters later we would be alone once again.  The character of the sounds change in the close in mist.  The low of the cattle drifts from all sides.  The bells on their necks clang in the distance but the source was nearly impossible to determine.  The mist seems to embrace us.  I found that I watched the placement of my feet more perhaps because there was no view to admire.  The world became smaller.  Without the larger perspective of the path before us we had to trust path we could see and just keep walking into the mist. 

This was particularly true since we had lost our map book the previous day.  The way is marked at each junction with a marker or a yellow arrow. Sometimes when there has been no new signs after walking 30 minutes or so, our pace would slow and doubt would set in.  We would start looking for any signs or evidence that we were on the right path.  A well worn path, pilgrim litter, other pilgrims, a faded yellow arrow and then when a marker is seen we have a sense of relief, and unspoken anxiety disappears.  Since we had walked the Camino once before often our evidence was our own memory.  

In the mist the small hidden world of a path speaks to the heart of loneliness and solitude.   This is reflects a common human spiritual quest.   Do we walk alone in this world or do we walk in community? Both are evident on the Camino: solitude and community.  Loneliness is the first fear of life.  An infant may cry for hunger or discomfort or pain.  All of these are dealt with external help.  Food is provided, the source of discomfort or pain is removed but when a baby cries in the night for comfort because it is alone, the help comes in the form of someone who brings love, but it isn't the giving of love that alleviates the loneliness rather it is the receiving of the love.  Hence not everyone can comfort the child, the mother or father is needed.  Someone the child knows and trusts.  Our whole life we seek to receive what our heart needs to end the loneliness.  Love may abound in the world, from family and friends and from the divine but will we receive it?  Will we let our hearts receive the love that heals our loneliness?  Will we recognize the voice of our loving Creator?  Will we pause in our cry of loneliness to listen to the comfort offered by the divine within the world? 

Mostly in our lives we seek to end the loneliness with alternatives.  Entertainment and distractions to keep us from realizing our status.  Busyness and accomplishments to trick us into think we don't need others rather that material processions and ego gratification can replace love.   In the mist, on a long path, the truth is clear; we need community.  One of the pilgrim blessings I spoke of in an earlier post is: "blessed is the pilgrim that realizes it not that you arrive at the end of the path, but who who arrive with."   There is no true alternative to loving community, family, and friends.  The need of our human souls require divine love expressed in relationship with other loving beings.   In the mist this truth is clear. 

In the Camino Mist

My world collapses in the drifting white mist

I am alone, as I was at first

The path wanders ten meters forward and ten to the back 

Sounds of poles click and clack

 A pilgrim appears passes by and is lost.

I am alone on the misty path. 

We walk side by side,

         without her, have I being?

We talk in silence, sharing the endless moment. 

Nothing imposes, just our foot fall.

Soft chunch, on moistened gravel. 

Then a pathway decision 

          interrupts 

our private world.

In the whiteness,

          loneliness is my only fear.

Alone in the collapsed world my heart opens

Only an empty heart can be ready to receive.

Come to me now blessed One,

 the world has escaped the cage of my heart. 

And Now is my moment on the misty way.