Skip to main content

31 Days of Five-Minute Writes: Day 27 - Perhaps

Tonight at book club, a young woman came to tell us about her trip to Spain and her travels along the Camino de Santiago. She and a lifelong friend spent 21 days walking an average of 15 miles a day. She brought along a scalllop shell, the symbol of the trail, because, as legend goes, St. James' coffin washed up on shore after a terrible storm, covered in scallop shells.

As she talked about how meaningful her journey was, I thought, perhaps I could do that one day. She told of the Sunday she sat in a small church, at the same time of day as her church family was sitting in church, and a song that is often a part of our service started playing in that church in Spain. She said it was so powerful knowing that thousands of miles away, people were hearing the same song and prayer for her as she made this journey.

Perhaps I could have that experience, to know that I'm not alone, that thousands of miles away, people are with me on a journey of a lifetime.

She also told of a part of the trail where you are encouraged to toss a rock that you have carried along the journey with you. People bring rocks from their homes as a symbol of what burdens or hopes they are carrying on this pilgrimage. You toss those rocks as an embodiment of tossing your cares or of making a wish. She told of how for the rest of the trip, they simple enjoyed the journey. After tossing the rock, they had realized their dream of self-discovery and walked knowing they would never be the same.

I hope I get the opportunity to travel to Spain and experience this pilgrimage. Perhaps I'll do it for my 60th birthday or perhaps I'll wait a little longer and use it as a launch pad for retirement. Perhaps when it happens, I too will be transformed by the experience.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Five Minute Friday: Time

Five Minute Friday is a writing event that has writers spending five minutes writing on the same topic and then sharing them at http://katemotaung.com/five-minute-friday/ . This week's word is Time. Sometimes time feels like this, like we are in it. Standing inside it, watching life pass by. It is so easy to get stuck in a time - in our pain, in our hurt. We hear the ache tick away in our head like a giant clock. Time, instead, is a gift. More time with family, more time to accomplish goals, more time to see the world. When you are hurting, it seems like time takes forever. One day turns into another day, turns into another day. When we hate a job, the five days of time that make up a work week seem to go on forever. But those five days are also a gift. Because these days, a job is not a guarantee. I want to see time as gift, not as a chore. I want to be on the other side of it, wishing there was more of it. Making the most of every hour, minute, and second instead of

Five Minute Friday: Roots

Lisa-Jo Baker (lisajobaker.com) hosts a weekly event on her blog called "Five Minute Friday". The rules are 1. Write for 5 minutes flat – no editing, no over thinking, no backtracking. 2. Link back here and invite others to join in. 3. And then absolutely, no ifs, ands or buts about it, you need to visit the person who linked up before you & encourage them in their comments. Seriously. That is, like, the rule. And the fun. And the heart of this community.. So here's my first try at this. Today's topic was Roots. Roots – I think about my grandparents who lived on a farm until my grandfather’s diabetes worsened and they moved to a town with a hospital nearby. My father still says he wished he could have kept that farm. I think of my grandmother who was a widow for 20 years. Every year she would stand over my PaPa’s grave, wishing she was with him. I think of my parents, a product of those grandparents, how hard my father worked to put 2 girls through

Five Minute Friday: Dwell

Five Minute Friday is a writing event that has writers spending five minutes writing on the same topic and then sharing them at http://katemotaung.com/five-minute-friday/ . This week's word is Dwell. I have thought about this word a lot - where should I dwell. After my divorce, I had a big decision to make - did I buy X's half of the house and continue to dwell where I had for the past 15 years or did I sell and move to a new dwelling. After crunching numbers and weighing my options, I decide to stay in the house we had bought together. Because, when it came right down to it, I loved my house. I felt safe there. I try not to dwell on the sadness that happened in this place but instead try to dwell on making it my own. I have painted rooms in colors X would have never agreed upon, I have bought artwork that he would never have hung. I want to dwell in a place that reflects who I am. When the yard is full of weeds and the basement full of water, I long to dwell in