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Longing

William Garza

Veteran Member
Time of past OR future Camino
Camino Frances, The Jakobsweg
Recent posts have brought up my Muse's curiosity..
Ohh Oh..

Fernweh (n.)
Origin: German
Crave for travel; “farsickness”; being homesick for a place you’ve never been

Good Lord..finally a name for my affliction!..or is it?

Sehnsucht (n.)
Origin: German
“The inconsolable longing in the human heart for we know not what”; a yearning for a far, familiar, non-earthly land one can identify as one’s home.
Maybe its this?
Or...


Yūgen (n.)
Origin: Japan
An awareness of the universe that triggers emotional responses too deep and mysterious for words

Which, often in me..leads to
Commuovere (v.)
Origin: Italian
To stir, to touch, to move to tears..
Well..Ime getting closer to ..A truth..

Whoch has led me to this..


Eleutheromania (n.)
Origin: Greek
An intense and irresistible desire for freedom.

This is a small part of a vast gulf in between the small hours of the morning and understanding the Call to Santiago.

There are many words.
But one irresitable pull East.

Sorry for the dictionary format..
Ive grown tired and my mind is reluctant to the task.

But for whatever reason
Or none..that draws you to Santiago de Compostella.

Do not be afraid
No Road leads nowhere
All Roads lead to Santiago.

References quoted without permission.
For i am a scoundrel..
Kidding, here is the Website.

https://roamandreason.com/2014/04/11/25-words-of-different-languages-youll-wish-we-had-in-english/

Be Blessed Pilgrim
 
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Thank you, again, William

It is no simple longing for the home town or country of our birth. The emotion is Janus-faced: we are torn between nostalgia for the familiar and the urge for the foreign and strange. As often as not, we are homesick most for the places we have never known.
Carson McCullers


It's fascinating that I have travelled many places but few continue to call me back - and the Camino is hauntingly one...
 
Recent posts have brought up my Muse's curiosity..
Ohh Oh..

Fernweh (n.)
Origin: German
Crave for travel; “farsickness”; being homesick for a place you’ve never been

Good Lord..finally a name for my affliction!..or is it?

Sehnsucht (n.)
Origin: German
“The inconsolable longing in the human heart for we know not what”; a yearning for a far, familiar, non-earthly land one can identify as one’s home.
Maybe its this?
Or...


Yūgen (n.)
Origin: Japan
An awareness of the universe that triggers emotional responses too deep and mysterious for words

Which, often in me..leads to
Commuovere (v.)
Origin: Italian
To stir, to touch, to move to tears..
Well..Ime getting closer to ..A truth..

Whoch has led me to this..


Eleutheromania (n.)
Origin: Greek
An intense and irresistible desire for freedom.

This is a small part of a vast gulf in between the small hours of the morning and understanding the Call to Santiago.

There are many words.
But one irresitable pull East.

Sorry for the dictionary format..
Ive grown tired and my mind is reluctant to the task.

But for whatever reason
Or none..that draws you to Santiago de Compostella.

Do not be afraid
No Road leads nowhere
All Roads lead to Santiago.

References quoted without permission.
For i am a scoundrel..
Kidding, here is the Website.

https://roamandreason.com/2014/04/11/25-words-of-different-languages-youll-wish-we-had-in-english/

Be Blessed Pilgrim

William,
The word which expresses this longing for me, and attaches it inevitably to the camino, is "Ultreia."
 
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Zugunrue

This is a German word which roughly translated means the restless nervousness in migratory animals and birds, particularly when the migration is due to start. Curiously, it also exists in non migratory species. It sums up the restless urge to travel which I feel acutely in the spring and autumn, with the changing seasons bringing on the call of the camino and the desire to pack my mochilla and hit the road again.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Zugunruhe
 
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My wanderlust..
I was up and walking before 9 months.
I remember my little williehood as earing my toes
Rolling over.
Doing a peculiar little arched back on the carpet..then a need to get up from all four legs..its rumored i skipped a step.

Then with my long suffering German Shepard as my guardian Angel..
I left home.
About 2 and a half feet tall of curiosity.
The whole neighborhood just about had a heart attack...

Lol...
I was perfectly ok..my poochie would be my shepard,

Whats over..There
Whats behind...That

The high wild empty places call like bacon to me..kidding.

What is it to walk on that gravel
Smell, that grass

Hear "The Gael" and want to be in the wind on high and mighty crags.

To hear the Portuguese Fado and to be in a smokey bar and watching a person sing with all their being...

To walk with the Pilgrim out upon the Way..
To be free..yet
Captured by an emotion
A mear..idea.

To let go
There is something to the nature of letting go.
Fear, angst,anxiety
A lancing of a soul, to let loose the toxic and let good bye happen.

There is No Good in goodbye
Yet..
There can be if you so desire.

Just..bye your leave?
Leave it on the Way.

Ime sure there are millions of "Good" byes left by the wayside.

I am familiar with the instinct to move.
Some days too big in my skin
Others...trapped.
Yet always moving forward.

Ultrea
 
A selection of Camino Jewellery
Tell the gremlins to b..... off! ;-) Buen Camino, SY
 
€2,-/day will present your project to thousands of visitors each day. All interested in the Camino de Santiago.
Your gonna look back on this and smile gently.
Not having control over the unknown variable..
But you do have control over your uncertaintys internally.
Have a little Faith in yourself.
You will be in a wondrous land
On a wondrous path
With as many people....all staring at each other wondering
What next?
That nervous flutter
Then
You step out onto the floor and dance.
We
They..are all there to dance(well walk ☺)
And are going to share
Something Wonderful...
The heebeejeebees cant compare to that!
 
My wanderlust..
I was up and walking before 9 months.
I remember my little williehood as earing my toes
Rolling over.
Doing a peculiar little arched back on the carpet..then a need to get up from all four legs..its rumored i skipped a step.

Then with my long suffering German Shepard as my guardian Angel..
I left home.
About 2 and a half feet tall of curiosity.
The whole neighborhood just about had a heart attack...

Lol...
I was perfectly ok..my poochie would be my shepard,

Whats over..There
Whats behind...That

The high wild empty places call like bacon to me..kidding.

What is it to walk on that gravel
Smell, that grass

Hear "The Gael" and want to be in the wind on high and mighty crags.

To hear the Portuguese Fado and to be in a smokey bar and watching a person sing with all their being...

To walk with the Pilgrim out upon the Way..
To be free..yet
Captured by an emotion
A mear..idea.

To let go
There is something to the nature of letting go.
Fear, angst,anxiety
A lancing of a soul, to let loose the toxic and let good bye happen.

There is No Good in goodbye
Yet..
There can be if you so desire.

Just..bye your leave?
Leave it on the Way.

Ime sure there are millions of "Good" byes left by the wayside.

I am familiar with the instinct to move.
Some days too big in my skin
Others...trapped.
Yet always moving forward.

Ultrea

Dear Kindred Soul
Aaahhh... that familiar instinct to move regardless... the ephemeral moment caught briefly in another beautiful poem...

Wonderful to know that we both had genuine guardian shepherds (though my pram dog was classified as an Alsatian post war) and that we sparked our first search and rescues so early in our childhoods.

This is me on a 5 bar gate when mum was still trying her hardest to turn me into a young lady. My brother is crying because there are pigs and a bull in the field that leads to town - the farmer's concession to the rambling laws.

bh_05 036.jpg
 
Get a spanish phone number with Airalo. eSim, so no physical SIM card. Easy to use app to add more funds if needed.
I will remind myself of this when certain gremlins lurking about in my head start to tell me I shouldn't be doing this ;)
How's the foot, Angie? I've been wondering if you've been able to get the PF under control. I about took a face plant today while out for a training walk. I have always had quick reflexes and was able to get my feet under me without falling. All I could think of was that I was going to smash my knee on the step edge. That might have ended my trip. I'm off in 1 week. I am having trouble sleeping. Today I told my husband that If I died in Spain, to have me cremated and bring me home and not to scatter me across Spain like in the movie. He had a good laugh.
 
The focus is on reducing the risk of failure through being well prepared. 2nd ed.
Dear Kindred Soul
Aaahhh... that familiar instinct to move regardless... the ephemeral moment caught briefly in another beautiful poem...

Wonderful to know that we both had genuine guardian shepherds (though my pram dog was classified as an Alsatian post war) and that we sparked our first search and rescues so early in our childhoods.

This is me on a 5 bar gate when mum was still trying her hardest to turn me into a young lady. My brother is crying because there are pigs and a bull in the field that leads to town - the farmer's concession to the rambling laws.

View attachment 25652
I didnt know what the fuss was all about?
I was her pup!
We lived in a semi rural area.
I got under the horses one day
Well..everyone freaked out
Which freaked the horses out
Which freaked everyone..
You get the picture.

I was ok
The horses..Noble beast that they are, were careful not to step on me.
Only after i was away did they run!

I think being Storm Born has something to do with my wanting to see
Whats there
And..once there to sniff the air
Off with the hat and feel.."that" sun
Taste, "that" rain
Feel"that" wind

I dont have an Idectic memory.
But i remember sensations.
The Camino will see me hopping up and down..not sleeping
So much to see
To do...
 
How's the foot, Angie? I've been wondering if you've been able to get the PF under control. I about took a face plant today while out for a training walk. I have always had quick reflexes and was able to get my feet under me without falling. All I could think of was that I was going to smash my knee on the step edge. That might have ended my trip. I'm off in 1 week. I am having trouble sleeping. Today I told my husband that If I died in Spain, to have me cremated and bring me home and not to scatter me across Spain like in the movie. He had a good laugh.

Ladies! Be careful out there!

I have to laugh because the closer I get to leaving for any extended walking trip and the more careful I try to be, the more accident prone I seem to become. I think it's a paradoxical intention.

Two days before leaving for one Himalayan trip we went for a final 'shake out of the legs' walk in our favourite and very familiar gorge near home. Long story but ended up tied to an olive tree on a cliff face and were lucky to escape with only bruises and scratches.
 
The 2024 Camino guides will be coming out little by little. Here is a collection of the ones that are out so far.
I didnt know what the fuss was all about?
I was her pup!
We lived in a semi rural area.
I got under the horses one day
Well..everyone freaked out
Which freaked the horses out
Which freaked everyone..
You get the picture.

I was ok
The horses..Noble beast that they are, were careful not to step on me.
Only after i was away did they run!

I think being Storm Born has something to do with my wanting to see
Whats there
And..once there to sniff the air
Off with the hat and feel.."that" sun
Taste, "that" rain
Feel"that" wind

I dont have an Eidetic memory.
But i remember sensations.
The Camino will see me hopping up and down..not sleeping
So much to see
To do...

OoohhKaayyy

This is getting scary - or coincidental - now.

I too was born in a semi rural area and was around horses from when I could crawl...

and... I was born at home in the middle of a ferocious storm...
 
Hurrican Born

Ohh Pilgrim
It is a lovely and mysterious geasa i am under.

I
Wander.

I have a fierce longing to be out in the wild winds
To feel the angry oceans roar
To stand among the Bolts as they fall.
To hear the deserts breath
The ice, tickle contentedly as it fits into the cold and damp.
Bare feet on fallen leaves...

The trees speak of us
They touch fingered limb
They wave brilliant leaf
At our coming

Do you hear them in passing Pilgrim?
Countless words..aye
Verily beyond measure!
In sheltered alleys lean"ed over
And quiet passages among the worlds of our lives.
Santiago knew of these pillars of eternity
They..passed on his name in the winds
Do you hear Pilgrim?

Mesetas grasses wave
Rubbing countless fingers
The sign language of the plains.
They whisper of you to the clouds

Do You Hear Pilgrim...
 
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Hurrican Born

Ohh Pilgrim
It is a lovely and mysterious geasa i am under.

I
Wander.

I have a fierce longing to be out in the wild winds
To feel the angry oceans roar
To stand among the Bolts as they fall.
To hear the deserts breath
The ice, tickle contentedly as it fits into the cold and damp.
Bare feet on fallen leaves...

The trees speak of us
They touch fingered limb
They wave brilliant leaf
At our coming

Do you hear them in passing Pilgrim?
Countless words..aye
Verily beyond measure!
In sheltered alleys lean"ed over
And quiet passages among the worlds of our lives.
Santiago knew of these pillars of eternity
They..passed on his name in the winds
Do you hear Pilgrim?

Mesetas grasses wave
Rubbing countless fingers
The sign language of the plains.
They whisper of you to the clouds

Do You Hear Pilgrim...

the siren call of the wilderness, William
 
Hurrican Born

Ohh Pilgrim
It is a lovely and mysterious geasa i am under.

I
Wander.

I have a fierce longing to be out in the wild winds
To feel the angry oceans roar
To stand among the Bolts as they fall.
To hear the deserts breath
The ice, tickle contentedly as it fits into the cold and damp.
Bare feet on fallen leaves...

The trees speak of us
They touch fingered limb
They wave brilliant leaf
At our coming

Do you hear them in passing Pilgrim?
Countless words..aye
Verily beyond measure!
In sheltered alleys lean"ed over
And quiet passages among the worlds of our lives.
Santiago knew of these pillars of eternity
They..passed on his name in the winds
Do you hear Pilgrim?

Mesetas grasses wave
Rubbing countless fingers
The sign language of the plains.
They whisper of you to the clouds

Do You Hear Pilgrim...
I haven't been following your writings for too long as I am fairly new, but thus far this one is my favorite.
Really wonderful...
 
The one from Galicia (the round) and the one from Castilla & Leon. Individually numbered and made by the same people that make the ones you see on your walk.
I shall walk the camino for the second time this fall. With me, in the only sure place for poetry, my memory, will go this poem by an early Canadian poet. I learned it in school and it expresses for me perfectly the restlessness that has come to me all my life, as the leaves change colour and the winds cool in the autumn:

A VAGABOND SONG
Bliss Carman


There is something in the autumn that is native to my blood —
Touch of manner, hint of mood;
And my heart is like a rhyme,
With the yellow and the purple and the crimson keeping time.
The scarlet of the maples can shake me like a cry
Of bugles going by.
And my lonely spirit thrills
To see the frosty asters like a smoke upon the hills.
There is something in October sets the gypsy blood astir;
We must rise and follow her,
When from every hill of flame
She calls and calls each vagabond by name.
 

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