On my first camino Frances ( my only one til I walk the portuguese in june) I met a lovely Australian couple, David and Lynn over dinner in roncevalles on my first evening proper. They had previously walked the cf so had a bit of knowledge regarding what I should expect.
I told them my life had been a bit "colourful " and I was walking to get some perspective of my home circumstances and in the vain hope of spiritual enlightenment, if this was even possible. I was tired, possibly a little lost and must've appeared a little down and at the time I just thought that they had taken out on me and were trying to cheer me up. What David told didn't seem too relevant at the time but fast forward a few weeks and his words almost became that if a Queensland prophecy. I must add that although raised a Catholic I'm a million miles away from being religious in any shape or form. So here's what he told me....
He said on their previous pilgrimage that although he was enjoying himself he was slightly disappointed at first as any hope of a spiritual experience seemed to be eluding himself and his wife until a couple of weeks in. Then something happened. Something that he struggled to describe. Something outwith his control. Something beautiful, energising and pertinent to himself. He caringly told me not to worry, to be patient and to basically give myself a break as whatever one's heart desires, the camino will provide.
I come from quite a harsh environment and I was struggling to shed that mindset so I was a little cynical of his words but felt that he was trying to cheer me up in his own way nonetheless. I had a great time over the next 2 weeks or so, beautiful walks and scenery and the most beautiful people imaginable. Then Something happened. Something profound and life changing and davids prophesy of the camino came true. And kept coming true.
Although it's an ancient pilgrimage, I tried to steer clear quite a bit from the chapels due to being seriously disillusioned with religious due to an almost militant Catholic upbringing. But one morning, tired, thirsty and in need of shade I ventured into a small Chapel. I went to the front pew and internally said a few words (praying no less). It was only when I opened my eyes that I became aware that Ave Maria was quietly being played in the background. I could feel tears welling up in my eyes, something that had been happening ever frequently over the last day if so. I hadn't shed a tear for many years after the death of my baby daughter so I pushed them down yet again. But at that instant I knew that the camino was telling me that I needed healing ( if you haven't walked a camino yet it might sound nonsense but you'll understand that the camino "always provides" once you get there. It really does"). I was incredibly self conscious even though the Chapel was nearly empty but I knew I had to let the tears fall in order to start addressing the hurt I silently carried with me every day. I shed a few tears but I let nerves and self obsession get the better of me and stood up to leave.
Just as I tried to leave the Chapel an old nun, sitting at the back, beckoned me over. I was desperate to march past her as I felt like complete fool due to my puff eyes but I didn't want to appear rude so I went over to the small table where she sat. Now I ignorantly spoke no Spanish at this point so I have no idea what she said but whatever it was it seemed to go straight into my heart and soul. It all took mere seconds but I found it excruciating and I was dying to run out and put my headphones in again to block out the noise in my head but she gently took my hand and gave me a miraculous medal on a thin blue string. I thanked her in English and made to leave.
Then to my surprise I never ran away. I was greeted outside by my "camino family ", who I said hello to and explained that I wasn't being rude but that I needed a few minutes to myself. So I sat on a bench outside then the most beautiful experience happened to me. Tears began to flood down my face and I was powerless to stop them, although I never tried to this time. But they weren't tears of sadness. It's hard to describe. They were tears of healing and of happiness they flowed and flowed for what seemed like an eternity but in reality they were only for a few minutes.
I had prev
I told them my life had been a bit "colourful " and I was walking to get some perspective of my home circumstances and in the vain hope of spiritual enlightenment, if this was even possible. I was tired, possibly a little lost and must've appeared a little down and at the time I just thought that they had taken out on me and were trying to cheer me up. What David told didn't seem too relevant at the time but fast forward a few weeks and his words almost became that if a Queensland prophecy. I must add that although raised a Catholic I'm a million miles away from being religious in any shape or form. So here's what he told me....
He said on their previous pilgrimage that although he was enjoying himself he was slightly disappointed at first as any hope of a spiritual experience seemed to be eluding himself and his wife until a couple of weeks in. Then something happened. Something that he struggled to describe. Something outwith his control. Something beautiful, energising and pertinent to himself. He caringly told me not to worry, to be patient and to basically give myself a break as whatever one's heart desires, the camino will provide.
I come from quite a harsh environment and I was struggling to shed that mindset so I was a little cynical of his words but felt that he was trying to cheer me up in his own way nonetheless. I had a great time over the next 2 weeks or so, beautiful walks and scenery and the most beautiful people imaginable. Then Something happened. Something profound and life changing and davids prophesy of the camino came true. And kept coming true.
Although it's an ancient pilgrimage, I tried to steer clear quite a bit from the chapels due to being seriously disillusioned with religious due to an almost militant Catholic upbringing. But one morning, tired, thirsty and in need of shade I ventured into a small Chapel. I went to the front pew and internally said a few words (praying no less). It was only when I opened my eyes that I became aware that Ave Maria was quietly being played in the background. I could feel tears welling up in my eyes, something that had been happening ever frequently over the last day if so. I hadn't shed a tear for many years after the death of my baby daughter so I pushed them down yet again. But at that instant I knew that the camino was telling me that I needed healing ( if you haven't walked a camino yet it might sound nonsense but you'll understand that the camino "always provides" once you get there. It really does"). I was incredibly self conscious even though the Chapel was nearly empty but I knew I had to let the tears fall in order to start addressing the hurt I silently carried with me every day. I shed a few tears but I let nerves and self obsession get the better of me and stood up to leave.
Just as I tried to leave the Chapel an old nun, sitting at the back, beckoned me over. I was desperate to march past her as I felt like complete fool due to my puff eyes but I didn't want to appear rude so I went over to the small table where she sat. Now I ignorantly spoke no Spanish at this point so I have no idea what she said but whatever it was it seemed to go straight into my heart and soul. It all took mere seconds but I found it excruciating and I was dying to run out and put my headphones in again to block out the noise in my head but she gently took my hand and gave me a miraculous medal on a thin blue string. I thanked her in English and made to leave.
Then to my surprise I never ran away. I was greeted outside by my "camino family ", who I said hello to and explained that I wasn't being rude but that I needed a few minutes to myself. So I sat on a bench outside then the most beautiful experience happened to me. Tears began to flood down my face and I was powerless to stop them, although I never tried to this time. But they weren't tears of sadness. It's hard to describe. They were tears of healing and of happiness they flowed and flowed for what seemed like an eternity but in reality they were only for a few minutes.
I had prev