Nowhere to run, no where to hide…

I stopped writing, really for the past year because I had not motivation, nothing positive or interesting to write about and a lot of negative energy building up in me largely due to the relentlessness of the Covid-19 pandemic.

I wrote several months ago that I was not going to write about Covid again, apparently, I lied.  This post, this story is very personal as I am now recovering from Covid-19 myself.  I hope this offers a different perspective.

The title comes from a song made popular by Martha Reeves and the Vandellas and as far as I’m concerned, no truer words have ever been written when it comes to Covid-19 and all of its well-known variants, Α (alpha), Δ (delta) and ο (Omicron).  Small bit of pandemic trivia, Omikron literally means, little O.

After taking every reasonable precaution for almost 2 years which included significant isolation, family bubbles, hand sanitation, mask wearing, vaccinations, boosters and pretty much everything else, I tested positive to Covid-19 two days after Christmas.

Several weeks before, the coach of the Dallas Cowboys football (American) team had tested positive as had several players on the team.  In the Sports section of the Dallas Morning News Coach McCarthy said “once Covid gets in the locker room, it’s almost impossible to get it out”, or something very close to that.  I didn’t think a lot about it at the time but clearly it stuck in my brain.

My reality isn’t that different.  In our bubble, we all took precautions.  We’re all vaccinated, including my grand-children and the adults, excepting my son-in-law are boosted.  He’s not 6 months out yet from his 2nd dose of the vaccination. 

The weak link in our armor is probably our grand-children, if you have kids or grand-kids, probably yours too.  While I can’t prove it, I strongly suspect that one of them was Covid positive but asymptomatic.  We have family dinner almost every Sunday and we see both the kids regularly.

I expect that they then infected my wife who had very mild head-cold symptoms which passed quickly.  The boy’s mother wasn’t feeling great on Christmas and on the next day, I got hit.

The Omicron variant is sneaky.  It presents very much like a cold which if very different than alpha and delta.  For me, I woke up on the day after Christmas, rode my Peloton with no problems and prepared for family dinner.  Around 5:00, I felt a little fullness in my frontal sinus, nothing to note and especially when the cedar trees here in Texas are dropping pollen all over the place.  I have allergies so a little sinus pressure is my norm.

The difference was that in 3-4 hours, I was fully congested and starting to feel some significant pressure.  I did though sleep okay.  So, from here, this is a synopsis of events up to now, a week later.

Monday, December 27th:  Very congested in the morning and felt warm, drinking my morning coffee made be break out in a heavy sweat.  We don’t have a thermometer, but I knew I was feverish.  The rapid onset of the symptoms and the fever was a real red-flag.  Getting tested in Dallas, the entire U.S. actually is not easy.  I did get an appointment at a local health center for 6:00 to get tested.  Spoiler alert, I was positive.  I shared the good news which went over like a turd in the punch bowl.  It also caused very negative reactions within my family bubble, that’s another story.

Tuesday, December 28th: While the day began on a reasonable note, it quickly became a bad day.  Fever persisted, congestion was heavy, I had aches and headache and I was very tired.  My sinuses were not just full but burning.  I slept off and on most of the day because I had not slept so well the night before.  I hoped this was the worst day, but it was only day 2 after becoming symptomatic.  I was thirsty constantly, probably from the fever but maybe from the copious amounts of drainage from my nose but also my mouth was watering and my eyes running.  All fluid, I guess.

Wednesday, December 29th:  This was by far the worst day for me.  My fever persisted as did the congestion and the pain in both my frontal and maxillary sinuses.  All the disgusting drainage continued as well.  The pain was so bad that besides over the counter analgesics, I was using visualization, a meditation technique, to help.  I literally visualized the battle between Covid and my white blood cells on the in breath and on the out breath, I visualized the virus fleeing, retreating.  It helped and I know some of you may not get it while others will.  No sleep again and I watched the hours go by blowing my nose every 5 minutes it seemed.

Thursday, December 30th:  The morning was miserable, I was in and out of bed trying to sleep, nap, snooze, whatever I could get.  Later in the day though, I thought I sensed a change.  The pain had subsided as had the pressure and I didn’t feel as feverish.  To me it was like cresting a hill on a bike.  At the top, you don’t instantly get the down hill relief, you have to first sort of plateau and then the coast down the other side begins.

Friday, December 31st:  Sleep, glorious sleep!  To the best of my knowledge, I slept through the night.  My sinuses were clearing, the pain was gone but the fatigue persisted.  I’ll take the gain and deal with the lingering effects.  I was hoping the worst was over but didn’t know, never had Covid before.  No great party but did feel well enough to watch the new (old) 007 movie on Amazon Prime, it was worth the $5.99.  Still lights out by 11:00.

Saturday, January 1stHappy New Year (?), I hope.  About the same today as yesterday, a little congestion has returned but nothing like the other, this may actually be the good old rhino-virus taking advantage of a weakened immune system.  Drainage again and a cough which I had not had before.  When the drainage stops the cough subsides, so I hope it’s non-Covid related.  Did a few things around the house, still a bit fatigued but not as bad.  Progress is slow, I guess.

As I write this on January 2nd, the day started very cold, our first real cold snap of the season.  I slept through the night but woke up early with the cough.  I didn’t want to wake Susan, so I got out of bed.  By the way, we did not quarantine from each other as we both suspected that she’d already been infected and so far, she’s fine.  A little passing congestion along my it’s partner…drainage.  I will not miss that.

My thoughts on all of this is that if you’re around anyone with cold like symptoms, suspect Covid.  So far, my grandsons have tested negative, but we suspect they were probably positive and asymptomatic 2 weeks ago.  Little kids with snotty noses are common now though, more attention should be paid.  Their mother is positive.  My other daughter and son-in-law are positive and of course, so am I although I’m scheduled to be tested again on Thursday which is 11 days after my symptoms occurred.

No matter how careful you are, there’s no place to run to, no place to hide!  I’m now convinced that we will all become infected, and the outcome is directly related to your vaccination status.  How sick do you want to be potentially? 

My experience was the head cold from Hell, but I survived it with no serious complications.  What do you want your experience to be?

Pushing Out

As I mentioned in my last post, a tease I called it, I do have plans to do many things in the next couple years all wrapped around my retiring next year.

It’s been a very difficult thing for me to accept and I know that for some, it’s hard for them to understand how retiring could be a difficult thing.  For some, maybe, not for me, it’s been a difficult journey to acceptance.

Understand that as an American male Baby Boomer, we were taught by our Silent Generation parents to work hard.  Remember, my parents’, in their lives went through the Great Depression as well as WWII, so they knew hardship.  They definitely did not want us to experience the financial hardships that they’d seen.

So, when I was younger, if you were male, you went to school for some that included College for others they went into a trade but whichever route you took, the expectation was that you’d work hard, get married, buy a house, etc., etc.  Most of all, you would save for tough times, be prepared.  What they didn’t tell you was when you had kids, all the saving part got much more difficult.

So, like a Kentucky thoroughbred that had been trained to run, we were trained to work and I (we) did.  Often gone too much and for too long, many times distracted and probably neglectful at home.  But we were doing what we thought we were supposed to do.

Suddenly, or so it seemed to me, I was contemplating retirement.  I felt and still feel selfish thinking about not working, it’s an alien concept.  After all, I started working officially, where I was taxed and paid Social Security, when I was 14 and I worked mowing yards, bailing hay or something else probably since I was 8. 

How could I just stop?  How can I on Friday be at work and on Monday, not?  How does one just turn that off?  I have friends that have very successfully done this, and they’ve managed to enjoy themselves and stay busy, I expect that I will too.

There’s also the financial security that working brings, now, you’re on your own and you hope that you’ve saved, invested and planned properly.  My luck, some financial planner will stumble across this and I’ll be inundated with solicitations with offers to help, for a fee.

So now, I wasted your time explaining my retirement angst all of which changes nothing so as I’ve thought about it over these many months, if I’m going to do this, there’s no point in agonizing over it and boring my friends to tears.

Years ago, I took skydiving lessons.  As a SCUBA Instructor and diver, you have to trust your training and equipment.  The difference between the two are that gravity is real.  I’ve done swimming assents from over 60 feet, and I could probably could have made it from deeper in a pinch.

I told a friend about stepping up to the door on the plane the first time you’re not jumping tandem.  At some point, you must trust that you’ve prepared and that your equipment is good and push out of the plane.  So, late next year, I’ll be pushing out.

Hopefully, that will free me up to pursue other more exciting (in a good way) things that I’ve wanted to do but never had the time because suddenly, time won’t be an impediment anymore.

On a positive note, I’m healthy, adventurous, willing, and hopefully in a financial situation that will allow me to enjoy my retirement and contribute in some meaningful way during that time.

Finally, why this in a blog that started out about the Camino?  Because for some of us, life is the Camino.  We’re all on the Way.

Super Ball

It’s been a long time since my last post, six months approximately which in Blogging Land is the kiss of death.  Fortunately, I write mostly for myself, and I have no interest in monetizing the site so…it’s been six months.

Really, the decline began well before April.  Like everyone else in the world, the enduring pandemic was taking its toll on me both mentally and emotionally.  Luckily, I’ve had no one seriously ill with the virus but seeing the tragedy as it took and continues to take its toll was/is exhausting.

Seeing the negative tilt my writing was taking prompted me to take a time out.  So, it’s been six months.

Anyone who’s read this blog before knows of my renewed interest in meditation and I’m happy that I have incorporated the practice into my daily life, I have found it to be very helpful in navigating the negatives but more importantly the daily aspects of my life, being or attempting to be a better person each and every day.

I had an experience recently that was totally new to me.  Generally, I meditate on my own but sometimes I use an App called Calm which offers me some guidance on my technique but also ideas on my meditation.  Sometimes more serious, sometimes lighter and fun.

Jeff Warren, who describes himself as an author and meditator is one of the guides on the Calm App who I enjoy.  He’s quite good at simplifying the process, which is actually quite simple but I, like many seem to make it more complicated than it should be.

Jeff hosted a guided meditation that he called Super Ball.  I guess he had me at the name alone.  As a child, almost everyone I knew had a Wham-O Super Ball.  If you don’t know this toy, it’s a densely packed rubber ball that when thrown down, it would bounce amazingly high.  And being a young boy at the time, hitting it with a baseball bat was exquisitely cool, a home run every time.  I digress.

In the meditation, he asked me to think like a Super Ball.  On the inhale, I was compressing the ball like throwing it down.  On the exhale, the ball was expanding and bouncing very high.  As I did this, I was, in my mind, bouncing as if I was on a trampoline or becoming the Super Ball.

What happened next was extraordinary.  As I took a long slow breath, compressing the ball, I held it for what seemed like a long time and then slowly started to exhale.  At that moment, the ball/I decompressed, and I felt as if I was accelerating, exploding but in a good non-harmful way.  There was no sound, no pressure like a G-Force there was just calm and acceleration.

While it seemed to have lasted for a long time, I’m sure that it was only seconds maybe less.  But in that time, however long it was, I felt total peace and a oneness with all things.  It was far more involved and at the same time simple than what I’ve tried to describe here.  When I opened my eyes, I became aware that I was smiling.  This type of experience has never happened to me before.

I shared this experience with my friend Katja (you should visit her Camino site) who is a Yoga instructor and knows far more about the practice of meditation than I do.  She welcomed me to the acceptance that the mind can do anything if we allow it to.

So, you may or may not believe this.  You may have experienced something like this before.  You may wonder why I’m writing about this and more importantly, why am I reading it.  All that’s okay.  It’s there if you want it and if not, that’s okay too.

I hope to get back to my routine of writing my blog.  Lots of things on the horizon for me in the next 12, 18, 24 months to dream about, write about and may fear a bit.

A bit of a tease, hopefully a return to Europe next summer.  Emersion Spanish language training in Mexico for a month.  Extended stay in Italy, France or Spain.  And a return to the Camino on parts of the Chemin d’Arles, Camino Aragonés and the Camino Francés.  Maybe pick off a couple “S” countries while I’m at it.

More details in future posts.  Feels pretty good to be back.

Hope

Most humans by nature I believe are hopeful beings.  I’ve always considered myself as a glass half full kind of person, I always try to see the positive and if someone is acting in a negative or hostile way, I try to understand why, their circumstance.  While I try, there are certainly times when I fail or sometimes they’re just jerks or the situation is just bad. Something you can’t fix so you I have to let them pass.

The last 12 to 14 months have been a real challenge for me and certainly for the entire world.  While parts of the U.S. seem to be leveling out when it comes to the spread of Covid-19 there are pockets that can only be described as a 4th wave.

Sadly, my friends in the EU and South Africa are seeing a new or continuing wave and are once again in some form of shutdown.  To them, please stay strong.

As warm weather approaches here in Texas we’re also finally doing a good job of getting the vaccine in people’s arms, about 10 million of our approximate 30 million residents have received at least 1 dose of vaccine and sadly another 2.5 million got their immunity the old-fashioned way, they caught and survived Covid-19 and survived so that’s adds to the total population with some antibodies coursing through their veins.

Our case counts here are declining slowly and maybe one can begin to think about doing some things that were once normal.  For me, being outside with my friends and maybe having a burger and beer after a long day’s hike is something that will be happening soon and on a regular basis, I hope.

Last weekend, my mask (a constant companion these days) and I went to REI a local co-op that sells outdoor supplies, it’s sort of my happy place, sad I know.

Anyone who’s hiked with me knows I wear a bandana.  Bandanas are great and serve multiple purposes, they are not just to make me look stylish.  The first bandana that I wore to Spain was named Batik and he decided he needed to stay at the end of the world after my first Camino.

Batik’s brother, Batik II is in the care of a good friend and I live vicariously through him whenever he gets to hike, wherever that may be.  Batik III is alive and well, he goes on all my hikes.

So, in a hopeful mood, I found Batik IV and V.  I didn’t really need two but there was this one lonely fellow sitting there all by himself which is probably why he was on sale so how could I dare leave him?

I can’t wait to take them out for a long hike, I’ll take them both as they’re fraternal twins and one can’t go and another stay, that would be unfair and thoughtless.  As I think about them, I’m hopeful and I find myself smiling.

I haven’t smiled enough these last many months, none of us have probably so, I will continue to smile and look ahead not back.  Me and the boys.

Free at last!

For the first time since Covid-19 became a reality here in the U.S., I’m beginning to experience something that approximates normalcy or at least something that passes for normal.

The weekend before last, my friend of 40 years, Leighton, had his birthday.  It would be impolite to say which birthday but, he’s had a lot of them.  Renee, his wife, had planned a kayaking trip down the Trinity River and a box lunch picnic afterwards.  Even though everyone attending had be vaccinated, it was still planned to be outdoors.

The weather on the 20th was cool and windy, not ideal for kayaking so we postponed that event, but she did still have a birthday celebration on the 21st with all of his friends and family who could make it.

As I mentioned, everyone in attendance had be vaccinated by this time so we decided that for this event it would be mask optional.  I guess as some point, you just have to let go and step out the door of the airplane and trust your parachute, which we all did.

Many of these people were in the last group meeting that we had the first weekend of March in 2020, just before the stay-at-home order and all of the other joy of the past year.

What I missed most during this time was being close to my friends.  Hugging, touching and being within close proximity to them.  I’d lost the sense of community over the last 12 months.  This lunch was a huge emotional release for me, them too, I think.

This past weekend, we finally took that kayak trip down the Trinity river.  I told my friend Katja via a text that it was the most normal day I’d had in over a year.  For a brief time, a group of friends who enjoy being outside, together, were able to do just that.

Kayaking Route Down the Trinity River

Kayaking by its nature is spatially distancing but, it didn’t feel contrived or forced.  We wore our masks in the van to the put in but then, free at last!  We laughed, enjoyed one another’s company and soaked in the glorious sunshine.  For 2.5 hours, Covid-19 never entered my thoughts.  This trip was an emotional and psychological cleansing.  One that was long past due.

We finished up with burgers and beers at Twisted Root Burger and if anyone is counting, I had the Vegebond (that’s for MGS the vegetarian vagabond).  More importantly, even though we wore masks inside, sitting there on the patio with my friends talking about anything and everything (except CV-19), we all agreed this felt as close to normal as it gets.

I hope I have many more days like this, so many that we’ll forget about the loneliness and isolation of the past year.  I hope that my friends around the world will soon also enjoy days like this.

And, if I were a person who prayed, I would pray that this is not an illusion and that we never return to the sadness and despair of the past year.  I’m not but hopefully my friends can pick me up here.

Guilt?

I’ve now received the second dose of the Moderna vaccine after driving another 150 miles round-trip to Granbury, Texas to get it.  The process was much easier this time and the actual vaccination was absolutely painless, I did not feel the needle at all.  Neither of us had any complications of consequence.  The first dose there was a little soreness at the injection site.  The second dose I had some body aches and joint stiffness (beyond the usual) the next day which lasted 4-6 hours.  All are “normal” possible side effects.

While I’m happy to have been lucky enough to qualify for, locate a site to get the vaccination and to have now almost completed the 2-shot regimen, I’m feeling a bit guilty.

I’m not sure why I feel guilty, I didn’t do anything wrong; I went by the rules in place for each group and struggled with the arcane and sometimes idiotic sign-up process as did everyone else, I still have this nagging sense of guilt.

I feel a bit guilty as I watch other counties around the world continue to struggle, as we are, with getting people vaccinated.  I feel guilty because we have the vaccine when most of the world does not.

I feel guilty because here in the U.S. we made it so complicated and so time consuming that many people didn’t have the time, technical knowledge or even access to the technology to find a working site or sites or to navigate those sites if they found one.  Some can’t get to a mass vaccination site and there’s really no assistance for them to do so other than a rag-tag volunteer system.  In many cases these people are also in groups that are hardest hit by this plague.

I feel guilty that the system created an immediate entitlement.  Those who have money, were younger, had technical knowledge and access to technology and those who had easily accessible transportation.  Accessible transportation in the U.S. generally means access to a private car.

I’m not wealthy but I’m better off than many.  I worked hard all my life for what I have but higher income still provides a natural advantage.  And even while I’m older than some, I do have technical knowledge and access to technology, primarily the internet. Many older people do not.  I also have access to transportation which is good because I had to do two 150-mile round trips to get both doses of the vax.

What about those who don’t have money which makes many of the other items I listed more likely.  So, I guess I feel guilty that my un-sought privilege sort of automatically put me towards the front of the line.  While I’m happy to have completed my course of the Covid-19 vaccination, I worry about those who have not whether they’re down the street or on the other side of the world.

How do we level the playing field?  How do we insure that if we ever make it out of this viral mess, when the next one comes along that it doesn’t play out the same way?  I have no answers and I feel guilty about that too.

One final thought. The Vax has not changed my habits. Even though Texas opened up 100% (bad idea) and we have no mask mandate (another bad idea) I still don’t go out for indoor dining, I avoid crowds and I still wear a mask. So, the vax is not the end of our worries and the world is not anything like it was before Covid-19 but is is a lot like it was last month.

Flashback

My friend Chris, one of the Professors I met in 2017 on my Camino told me about a recently released Prime Video series called 3 Caminos.

The premise of the series is that 5 people meet while walking the Camino de Santiago in 2000 and become fast friends, not an uncommon experience I know personally.  The story carries on as the characters grow and mature.  They meet again on the Camino in 2006 and again in 2020. 

Many things change during the 20 years of the program, some for the better and some for the worse.  But the writers did a fair job of capturing the emotions, the conflict, relationships and hardships that real life people experience.  Things that you experience while living your life or walking the Camino which are one and the same.

I was particularly touched by the relationship between the characters of Luca and Roberto.  Many of us experienced similar bonds, bonds of friendship and compassion that spanned age, gender, and nationality.

While watching the next to last episode, they showed the Pilgrims climbing up towards O’C and the path up to the Galician Frontier.  Along this way, they show the beautiful valley that leads back towards Villafranca del Bierzo, to me a stunning view.

So beautiful that this path is where I chose to leave a stone for my Grandmother. It’s a black river rock, well smoothed with time and the actions of tumbling and being scrubbed by sand, water and other stones.

As the Pilgrims trudged up the path toward the frontier marker, I was looking at the few fence posts shown along the way…hoping to see the stone.  I didn’t, by now it may have fallen or have been moved but, for me, it will always be there.

Galicia with friends

When the Pilgrims arrived at the boundary marker, I paused the show and took out my iPhone and looked at the picture that my friend Katja took in 2019 and compared it to that in the movie, taped I guess in the Spring of 2020.  While they’d scrubbed a lot of graffiti off the marker, much was still there that I have in my picture.  Dumb as it may sound, it took me back there for a moment and made me smile.

I miss those moments and I miss the friendships and something as mundane as a short television program reminded me of just how much.

Adios, Auf Wiedersehen, Goodbye!

What a brutal year 2020 has been and, sadly, I expect that 2021 will begin very much as 2020 ended.  We could all use a break but, many of us are willing to do nothing to earn one.

This time last year, Covid-19 was something that was happening in China with isolated outbreaks in Europe.  The Ass-Clown who will soon be the former President was as usual, lying to the American people and himself.

President Ass Clown

Susan and I would soon be leaving for New Orleans to meet our friends from New Zealand, Carol and Letina.  We had a great long weekend and it was one of the last fun things that we did.

Black-Eyed Peas, Kiwi Style

February brought a quick day trip to Huntsville to meet Chris, Steve and Madison as they prepared for their soon to be cancelled trip to Spain.  I know the cancellation really took the wind out of Chris’s sails.  No one could imagine what was lurking just around the corner.

Huntsville State Park

March brought the diagnosis that my father had Cancer, a rare and aggressive form.  He became very ill just as the first wave of CV-19 was washing over Texas.  A very sad and hard time for my family.

March also brought the first stay-at-home order which was certainly new to everyone.  One of the last times we met friends was the weekend before the S-A-H was in place, we went to celebrate March birthdays at Café Momentum.

Through April and May, the new reality set in.  No cars on the streets, walkers were out which I hope is one of the things that we continue after all of this.  I hope we get out more and drive less, without the masks would be nice.

Mid-June, my father passed away.  I’ve covered that in earlier posts.  Birthdays and holidays have been hard.  I know that time will take the jagged edges off my pain but, right now it still hurts.

The Rock

Summer offered a brief reprieve but probably set us up for what was to come.  While the environment was a bit safer, warmer, more outdoors, people let down their guard and some believed it was a hoax. Some still do.

In the U.S. and probably the rest of the World, our attention turned to the upcoming elections, an opportunity to right a mistake made in 2016, a serious mistake.  Still, ignorant politicians downplayed the virus and forced people to stand in long lines to vote.  They did this, risked their health to be rid of Donald Trump.

Now, after Thanksgiving and Christmas where people just couldn’t no, wouldn’t stay home wave upon wave of illness has beset the United States as well as the rest of the world.  Hospitals are full and care will soon be rationed.  If I were a petty man, I’d say that if you did nothing to protect yourself, you go to the tent in the parking lot and we’ll do the best we can.  I realize that’s not a compassionate thought but still…

So 2020, a dire year in the big picture.  However, I have found positives. I hope to focus on them in the coming months.

First, with help and guidance I’ve rediscovered the value of meditation.  While I’ve dabbled in in almost all my life, I missed the real value.  Instead of using it as a response to a problem or issue, I’m trying to adopt it as a more holistic part of my life.  So far, I like the results and stay tuned.

The Arhat

As I’ve written often, I’ve accepted that I too am a spiritual person.  My spirituality probably would not be recognized by a religious person who does not know me, it has nothing to do with any divine being.  It has to do with me and who I am and where I fit in the world and how I can be a better person in this world.  It’s about acceptance, caring, calm and joy.  I’m sure that my religious friends may recognize some of these things, the difference is that I am responsible for my actions both good and bad.

I know that I’ve both failed and succeeded in my friendships and that I must work harder at this.  That’s a good thing, we sometimes take these things for granted.  I won’t again.

I’ve learned or was reminded not to take people and opportunities for granted and to cherish every moment.  As I write this, I’m sitting in a hospital room with a friend who’s sadly suffering from a fall.  Cherish each moment.

Finally, I’ve come to peace with my decision to retire in a couple years…I hope I have anyway.  I suppose I’ll have time to reflect on my decision soon.

While 2020 has sucked, if you look hard enough and reevaluate what is good and bad, there are always little gems to be found.  Sometime they’re personal and harder for others to see.  Other times, they’re obvious for all to see.

Yes, 2020 had some good aspects but, I am really looking forward to 2021, it has to be better…please.

Be the storm

As we approach the end of an incredibility challenging year, I’ve begun reflecting on 2020, the year of COVID-19.  And while there are many things to be negative about, far too many, I can’t help but think about how others have dealt with adversity.

The Casa Ivar site (and others) is a place where Pilgrims, past, current, future and those who only dream can gather to pass on knowledge from our experience.  Future Pilgrims can ask questions to benefit from the experience of those who came before them.

It’s a place where those interested in the religious history and offerings of the Camino can bond and find community.  For the non-religious or those looking for a beautiful outdoor experience, it’s a place to learn and share.

For me and those like me, I’ve discovered that I’m not the only person who found and understood spirituality in a way I did not before.  This was possible because someone took the time to listen and share.  You may not believe in fate but that’s what led me to the Camino in 2017.

One thing that we all have in common is the 1000-year history of souls walking from their homes and trekking, for whatever reason and maybe reasons unknown, across Spain to Santiago de Compostela.

They did it, in most cases with literally nothing more than what they had on their backs.  They walked barefoot or in crude sandals.  They were preyed upon by thieves and bandits.  They survived malnutrition, disease, and pestilence.

Fortunately, most of us cannot claim the same difficulties but, we, in our modern ways endured our own hardships.  Those of us who have walked the Camino Francés or any of the other Caminos certainly saw or met Pilgrims suffering physically, mentally, spiritually or emotionally.

Many of us felt the pains brought on by 30 plus days of walking towards Santiago.  Blisters, sprains, illness, and fatigue.  For me, sore knees were my primary complaint.

But most of us journeyed on and persevered and we rejoiced, each in our own way, as we walked down the steps, bagpipe music washing over us, and into the Praza do Obradoiro.

A few may have been unimpressed; I don’t understand how but I accept their reality.  Most of us were full of awe.  The completion of a true pilgrimage for some.  For others, an accomplishment that they may have thought was beyond their ability.  For me, a journey that I did not know at the time that was unfinished and never ending.

Now, how did this diverse group accomplish this feat. How did people from Spain, Germany, the United States, Korea, Russia, Brazil and dozens of other countries survive, prosper, laugh, share and support one another?  What led them to the Camino?

Many believe there is divine guidance along this Way.  Maybe the Camino attracts the type of personalities who are naturally more social, amenable, caring or forgiving. There are though dozens of other possibilities and all reasonable explanations. 

For me, while all of the above are viable, the common thread is that we all shared the same goal.  Our reasons were as diverse as the nationalities and personalities of those on the Camino.  But we were all walking in the same direction and towards the same place.

 So, how does any of this relate to 2020, the year of COVID-19?  Sadly, even some of us who are veterans of the Camino have forgotten that spirit and instead have seen only the dark side of 2020.

We want to go out.  We don’t want to shelter in place.  We don’t want to wear a mask.  I think we can all say that we do and don’t want to do these things but, we must.

Like it or not, we’re all on this journey together.  And whether we realize it or not, we’re all headed in the same direction.  I can say with some confidence that we will all rejoice, in our own way when we finally reach the end and enter that far off plaza which is the end of this pandemic.

In my darkest moments, I think of that goal.  I look forward to going back out, with friends and without a mask.  Until then, and metaphorically, I keep walking west with the sun at my back and my shadow leading the way.

I help those that I can.  I accept help when I need it. I take care of myself and I think beyond myself.  I can do this because I know there is light at the end of the tunnel.

Light at the end of the tunnel

There’s a quote by Jake Remington that goes like this: Fate whispers to the warrior.  “You cannot withstand the storm.”  The warrior whispers back.  “I am the storm.”

As we walked across Spain, the warrior in us got us over the mountains.  The warrior pushed us to take that next step, descend that steep hill.  The warrior accepted additional burdens when required.

So now, as we enter a difficult winter, I choose to be the warrior.  I will and we will persevere because, we are the storm, if we choose to be.

Be strong, be safe and we’ll soon hear the faint sound of bagpipes in the distance.

You’ll Never Walk Alone

Even with the best spin, 2020 has been an exceptionally bad year and sadly, it appears that 2021 will get off to a difficult start as well.

The world, challenged by the novel Corona Virus-19 has faced death, illness, separation, depression, and economic pressures amongst other things.  Amidst all of this, it is sometimes easy to forget that the “normal” challenges of life go on.

For many, the nutritional challenges that they live with have been compounded.  The economic impact worldwide has hit some segments of the economy much harder than others, many of whom are always working on thin margins.

Small businesses, restaurants, cafes, bars and hotels have disappeared, many permanently taking the people and families who ran them down with them.  For those of us who are veterans of the many Caminos, the albergues, bars and farmacias that we and future Pilgrims depend upon may never recover.  The Camino is a symbiotic environment, when on partner suffers, the other does as well.

Over the past 10 months, many of us have suffered loses not directly related to the virus but certainly impacted by it as loved ones became sick with non-COVID-19 related illnesses which required them to be treated in an environment of isolation and heightened fear.  Some recovered, others did not.  Many families never got to mourn or celebrate these lives lost because of restrictions on gatherings and physical distancing.

And, not to forget, the front-line workers.  Doctors, nurses, medical assistants, and those who make our medical facilities work are taxed beyond any capacity which can be sustained.

Yes, 2020 has been one Hell of a year.

I was listening to some of my music recently when I came across a song performed by Brittany Howard, formerly of Alabama Shakes called You’ll Never Walk Alone.  This song has been around for a long time, written by Oscar Hammerstein and Richard Rogers and performed originally by Gerry and the Pacemakers in 1963.

The song is about perseverance both individually and collectively.  As I listened to it, it immediately struck a chord with my inner Pilgrim. Climbing over the Pyrenees from St. Jean and down the steep valley to Roncesvalles.  Over the Alto del Perdon.  Across the Meseta on sore knees.  Up into Villafranca del Bierzo when the thermometer at the Farmicia said 40 (104 F).  Up to O’C and finally, across Galicia to Santiago.

Even when you think you’re all alone…

All done by personal perseverance, support and help of all sorts, both received and given along the way.  All of us who have walked the Way know this.  For those who have not yet made that journey, you’ll know it too, soon.

So here we are in a world wracked by the COVID virus and it’s taking a mighty toll in many ways.  Death, fear, isolation, anxiety, anger, sadness, depression and many other sad and freighting emotions.  After all this time, it’s easy to feel sorry for ourselves.

Some may ask; why is God doing this?  Why is this happening?  When will it ever end? Gods not doing this.  It’s not a conspiracy.  It’s certainly not a hoax.  It’s a virus.

We, as people, humans who occupy this planet we call Earth are not under some alien attack.  We’re facing a pandemic.  Not the first and not the last.  We’ve been challenged before by wars, plagues and economic disasters and we got through them and we’ll get through this challenge too.

…Look in front or behind

Our challenge is whether we get through it together or not.  Do we do our part and maybe, more than our part or do we refuse, deny, point fingers and fear the unknown.  Like the Camino, as I mentioned before, our world is a symbiotic place too.  We flourish together or we suffer and possibly, perish together.

So, my friends, as we enter what will be a long and hard winter, take the hand (metaphorically) of a friend or stranger in need.  Reach out and let someone know that you’re there and they’ll be okay.  Tell someone that you love them.  As difficult as it may be, resist the temptation to condemn those who may not believe in science or facts as the energy wasted in that effort, to me, can be spent more wisely elsewhere.

For all Pilgrims, whether you’ve walked the Camino de Santiago or not, the Pilgrim spirit lives within you.  Be strong.  If you’re a believer, stay faithful.  If like me you’re a spiritual being, trust in the goodness of those who share this world with us.  In these difficult times, be kind and thoughtful.  Most of all, be tolerant and hopeful.  Know that this bleak period will surely pass.

So, back to the song, I encourage you to listen to it, regardless of the artist performing it and I’ll leave you with this:

When you walk through a storm
Hold your head up high
And don’t be afraid of the dark…

…Walk on, walk on
With hope in your heart
And you’ll never walk alone