It’s so strangely beautiful the way the universe works. There is a synchronization that occurs when we lean in and trust the journey. We can reflect on our past and see the connections that existed to now, even knowing that back then we had no clue. This day 12 years ago I’d been medevac’d from Iraq for a colluded airway, Tonsillitis. I was in the midst of my trauma, struggling to find meaning and connection. I chose to go back to Iraq rather than have my tonsils removed (and go home) and for a long time I held that decision against myself. I’ve since forgiven myself, but not forgotten. Facebook helps me remember and find healing from my trauma. The following “note” from this day 12 years back is no less true today.
This is the complementary route that starts 2km prior to Portomarín Spain on the Camino de Santiago Frances. The background is a recording of myself singing and playing the Ukelele. Enjoy!
I’m struggling on this journey with habits and patterns that I have created at home to manage myself and my PTSD.
If I were home right now I would be sleeping, because it’s still morning. I might go out to work at Starbucks today. I may spend time painting or drawing. I would likely sit outside at the picnic table, enjoying the last days of summer with Janelle before she goes back to work. I’d have made a coffee, and then another, and likely a third. I wouldn’t have eaten anything yet. I’d likely spend a lot of time indoors, binging Netflix or reading a novel. Possibly, I would do some household chores and rearrange the living room for the millionth time. Tomorrow I would do the same, just as this is what I did yesterday. Life became stale. I was complacent in my maximum isolation. So full of thoughts, and hopes, and desires, but not moving towards anything, just talking it in circles and writing down ideas.
This morning I had one cafe con leche and a ham and cheese sandwich. I packed my bag and I hit the road. I greeted others in kindness and compassion for our mutual journey and struggles up hills. I drank lots of water. I stopped and meditated in my surroundings, not concerned with those going past at faster speeds than I. I drank more water and ate a small muffin. I heard music and I stopped to sing along as the Guitarist played Stand By Me (Ben E. King). I encouraged myself to keep moving on the hills, but to stop, look around, and look up. I discovered that what I thought were dates were actually almonds. Who knew they grew on trees in green pods? I didn’t, nor did the three French women who showed it to me, explaining in French. I don’t speak French, but we understood each other all the same.
I found an old cistern on the top of a hill and I stopped to meditate again. Maybe someone took my picture, or they were just catching the view. Someone walked by and told me “Namaste”. I continued to meditate and breathe. When I opened my eyes everything was brighter, my sight was clearer. Even the ants on my bag didn’t ruin my day. I wondered why it is that I avoid meditating regularly. Is lack of peace such a comfortable place?
I arrived at my destination and felt as if I had not come far enough today, but I’m learning I must make myself pause, even when my body insists it can go further. I fed, cleaned, and embraced my body for its strength and resilience. I interact with others through smile and greeting, feeling akin. This is a life one cannot find binging netflix in the living room. I do believe this is a life we can find by stepping out our front door. There is no need to travel, though I highly encourage it. Seeing and experiencing other cultures gives us perspectives to grow and love better. I hope and believe that everyone can take their own journey and not only finds new ways to embrace life, but like I have on this trail, find that life is embracing you back.
My first hostel stay in Saint-Jean-Pied-de-Port was so nice. It was a little uncomfortable at first getting in the rhythm. Laura, the host, showed if I wished to be in a smaller room with just women. I gratefully accepted. My rooomie’s were Brigit (polish or German?) and two Spanish women – Rosa and Emparo (I think). The Spanish gals some English and eventually struck up conversation with me. Rosa teaches history in London and Emparo is from near Barcelona where she does administrative jobs, but is currently between jobs.
They had stayed an extra day in SJPDP before starting and had heard about a wine festival and asked if I wanted to go. This was French wine and food, straight local! It was delicious! The wine was definitely stronger than at home. For less than the price of a Quiktrip Hot Dog I was eating an octopus salad on a black roll. It was delicious!
My plan was to do 30km on Day 1 and they thought I was crazy. Everyone raised their eyebrows when I mentioned going to Espinal. If my stubbornness wasn’t so in control, it may have been a sign for what came later. I had also booked a room in Espinal, so it felt like I had no option to change my plans. In planning my initial week I had panicked on not having a place, so I booked rooms through Pamplona. Here was a great example of my need to control things… I hope my therapist reads this, she’ll laugh. I had also made the fatal flaw of letting my ego determine this first day would be easier than… well you’ll find out. My thought was “How hard can 3/4 miles elevation gain be over 7 miles?” Ha ha ha… (spoilers sweetie)
I started at 6am to get an early start. I woke up, felt ready, and was rearing to go. I got coffee and a croissant then hit the road. It was great at first. I saw the sun rise as I hiked out of the valley and above the clouds. From the moment I left SJPDP it was uphill. The city sits in a valley surrounded by the Pyrennes Mountains. The Pilgrims Office had given me a walk through of the trail, only offering the elevated route. It’s the one I wanted, but it is weird they didn’t offer the lower route.
The higher route is called Napoleon. There are two towns on this side of the mountain, Honto & Orisson. Honto barely gets a mention as it only has Albergues. Orisson was about 7km up and was the last stop for food before another 17km. There was also not another watering point till near the top, except for a “food truck.” I’d been told the food truck barely had anything and was near enough the water that there was no need for it. In Orisson I stopped for a cafe and basque cake (there is pudding in the middle). I also bought a bocadillo para llavar (sandwich to go). I used their toilet and then hit the road. I didn’t fill my water, which ended up being a bad idea. It was only 9am and the sun wasn’t fully up.
The view on the trail was so beautiful it made me cry tears of joy, at least for the first 12km. About 4km before Orisson my heel had developed a blister that got quite large before I stopped to treat it. I patched it up, but between the incline and my sweaty feet, the bandage kept sliding. I kept replacing it, but eventually the blister popped and tore. I went through most of my supply fixing it over and over. My whole body was also feeling the incline and the weight of my pack.
Around 11am I came to a beautiful lookout point. There was a statue of the Virgin Mary on top of large boulders. My legs were jelly and my sunscreen had stopped being effective. I dropped my pack and rested. It was extremely hot and the sun was high in the sky. I’d walked out of tree cover near Orisson. I aired out my feet and soaked socks. I knew i needed to go faster to reach Espinal before midnight. My feet weren’t happy though. I tried some yoga, but couldn’t find my balance. I threw on my flip-flops to walk a while and let my heel dry out.. i got about 3km before I started tripping on rocks. It was like I was drunk! At the food truck I put my hiking shoes back on and bought a coke and water. I had run out of water at this point and was afraid of how far the fountain might be. They said it was close, but this was nothing like I was expecting. It was a good decision as the watering point was several more kilometers on and up another ascent. I enjoyed my bocadillo, which had become a ham and cheese panini in my bag through the heat, with the coke. I drank the water in small sips as needed, just in case. It felt like being stranded in a desert. At one point i considered drinking the water from a creek, but it was all pasture, with a lot of sheep… so a lot of sheep poop in the creek I’m sure.
By this time my adventurous spirit was quickly being overcome by sunburn and exhaustion. I was so glad I was walking solo. This wasn’t a misery that wanted company. My self-talk turned for the worst and I was not at all kind to myself in my stubbornness and fear to finish the day.
At the fountain I was able to feel some renewal of my spirits as I drank deep. The water was refreshing and cold. My body still hurt, my soul felt renewed.
I picked up and kept moving, hoping I was getting close to the top. I figured, especially after this, that the downhill would be much easier. As I moved I began, or more often the sheep.
I pulled out the Lego man given to me, named him Boomer and proceeded to build his story.
Eventually even that couldn’t entertain me. I was back to this miserable place with a few “oh beautiful” moments mixed in. I had no choice but to keep going. my peace was getting slower and slower. I’d been lapped earlier by Rosa and Emparo. I reached a sign at the top of a hill which showed the different routes. I thought it was the top, however anticlimactic. It wasn’t. It was followed by a soft path through trees, which I thoroughly enjoyed. I saw no one on this path, but for some sheep and I started to wonder if I had picked the wrong path. In my exhaustion had I gone off trail? Getting actually lost when I’m trying to get lost is the story of my life. However, when I usually get lost I’m rarely this exhausted, resourceless, and in the French countryside.
My fears were alleviated as I rounded a bend to find horses frolicking (yes, frolicking) across the path and a handful of pilgrims taking naps in the shade. I too took a break, though there was no nap in store for me. In the words of Robert Frost: “These woods are lovely, farm, and deep, but I have promises to keep, and miles to go before I sleep, and miles to go before I sleep.”
I didn’t know if I would ever reach Espinal, but I needed this brief respite. It was like an act of grace, so green and friendly. The oasis in the desert. The horses were beautiful, playful, and free. There were several foals in the mix just enjoying being alive. I couldn’t have kept myself from smiling.
I had to go on though. When i reached the actual summit of Lepoeder, I couldn’t even bring myself to walk the 100ft to the very tip of it. I just wanted down off this fucking mountain. The descent was easier on my heels, but never ending. I knew I would never reach Espinal walking. I reset my expectation to stay upright and moving till Roncesvalles, another 7km yet.
My mental state was also exhausted. It had tried so hard to keep me motivated. It sang songs, did math, told stories, and even planned things for the nonprofit I’m building. Though I can’t recall those ideas now, lol. It even tried to clear itself and mediate while walking. All of these things started to get jumbled in my mind. Spanish words started to get mixed in, and I kept mumbling to myself. I debated how to ask and call for help in Spanish. I wondered if I was suicidal, but no, I only wanted to go home. I’m not the same person I was when I bought these tickets, desperate to find something to hold on to. I wanted to give up. What was so important that I needed to be here and not with the on ness I love?
I kept picking up one foot after another. A French girl said hello and that we only had 3k. To Roncesvalles. I told her I was going on to Espinal. She asked why looking concerned and I blurted out “BECAUSE I’M DUMB!” She looked shocked. I had to keep moving, or I felt I may never move again. I felt the breakdown (definitely not a spiritual awakening) coming on. I was too tired for it. I just needed to get off the mountain. I lost the trail at some point and ended up on a road. It was descending, so I kept following it. I think it added an extra kilometer. I didn’t care anymore. Everything in me had turned off and my feet were using all the energy I had left. Well my feet and the fact I’d needed a toilet for 7km. It wasn’t the act of going in the woods that was the problem, it was the need to pack out my refuse, I hadn’t remembered to get baggies. You can’t bury or burn your bathroom trash.
I finally reconnected with the path and could see the Monastery in Roncesvalles through the trees. As I cleared the trees it was like walking into a different world. There were clean happy pilgrims hanging laundry and lounging about. I imagine my relief was selections to that off people traveling long distances before technology. The sweet release of connection. I entered the monastery and they offered me a bed, which I was gladly hoping to accept. Then I realized I did not have enough Euros and right then they ran out of beds anyway. So in a confusion of people, language, and expression I called a taxi.
They’re was no public restroom and the taxi was an hour away. I sat outside and tried to silently cry it out. This isn’t what I expected. I thought I was better prepared and had failed those expectations of myself. I even looked up how to change my flight home. The Taxi call had forced me to turn my cell service on, so I made the best of that connection. I did not change my flight. I did check in with home, to remember that I’m not alone. My people still exist!
Taking the Taxi to Espinal speed 6km of the trail, which doesn’t bother me in the least. This was self-care. Hostal Rural Haizea was very welcoming. It was a perfect place to be after such a hard day. After a shower I napped and felt a little better. At dinner none of the pilgrims spoke English, so it was a silent night for me.
I had walked 18.27 miles according to my phone. The map said it was 24km (roughly 14mi). The thing I learned last year was the inconsistency in the distances from different sources.
I will have better takeaways and lessons when I’m not in the midst of exhaustion. I know this was important and I’ll keep trying, but for now, today just needs to end. Day 1 complete.
I had a lot of built up anxiety prior to getting on the plane Wednesday morning. This trip was 6 months coming and then it appeared all too quickly. It’s interesting to reflect on the path I’ve walked which led to me walking a literal path in Spain. The mindset I was in when I bought the tickets and how my world changed since, well, it feels like two different worlds.
February 13, 2019 0500 CST
I bought the tickets in a haze of sleeplessness. I was unsettled. The nightmares were creeping in on my periphery. They were alive in my mind without me even closing my eyes. I couldn’t, no wouldn’t, allow myself to sleep. The fear if entering my never ending nightmares spurred me on to practice one tool after another, but nothing calmed them, or me.
Trail on the Camino de Santiago Frances
I, finally, took my mind back to the Camino de Santiago I did in October 2018. I recalled the smell of the eucalyptus trees, still wet with dew. The quiet of the rail, the only sound was the crunchy of my shoes on the path. Singing in the rain, getting caught, and being asked to keep singing. The sense of freedom and no restrictions. The lack of my story holding me back. This was what I most wanted as I looked at ticket prices.
I hoped to find those same senses by returning to the trail. Last year I used the trail to hold onto through the struggles. On this particular February morning I once again needed something to hold onto, to keep living. I wanted to escape my pain, back to the last place that I felt peace.
After February 13th
It’s not that I don’t have peace in my daily life. I’m just constantly looking for the next danger, the next repeat of my trauma. I’m always on alert. I wish I could better embrace the peace and joy that occurs in my daily life. I also have this wanderlust inside me, and perhaps that makes me restless. I’m great in a crisis or a high adrenaline event, it’s the normal where I begin to fall and fail.
So what changed, what happened since that rough February night, which made it so difficult to actually come on this trip? Just buying the tickets I had felt i found my escape, something to look forward to, hold on to. It wasn’t a foolish choice, it was quite informed of me. I lined my date’s up with when my lease ended. I found a balance in my desire to escape and my life responsibilities. Giving myself this time was important. It offered me the space to process, connect better with others, and make a healthy departure.
I took a turn off the Camino to find this gem of nature.
For almost as long as I can remember, I have had this unhealthy desire to just up and disappear, to run away from everyone. It often has strong emotional ties to shame, guilt, pain, and other dark emotions. As an adult, I began struggling with thoughts of suicide. Suicide: the ultimate disappearing act. When I think about my struggles it is hardly ever a reflection of others. It is a reflection of how I can’t stand myself, occasionally informed by the opinions of others. The thing is I can’t escape myself anymore than you can escape yourself. So my urge to disappear doesn’t work, I can’t run from myself. That was where the permanence of suicide began to feel attractive.
Luckily, for me, I was born with this little flame in my soul, called HOPE. Sometimes, I am in awe of how strong it is. It keeps me going in the darkest of times. It is what gets me to buy plane tickets so I can walk across Spain. Once the tickets were bought, life started to get a little easier. I had an egress plan. Rule #1 of combat, know your egress points. Okay, maybe not rule #1, but it’s up there for sure. It’s as if I can handle anything as long as there is an escape route.
Funny thing happened though, I made my escape plan and then began to experience a life I didn’t want to escape from. Every day wasn’t perfect, but life felt good. It felt possible. I let myself be more vulnerable. I began to accept the love others kept trying to share with me. I leaned into my art and my dream of building a non-profit. I built deeper relationships with neighbors, coworkers, customers, and friends. Instead of thinking I could go nowhere with my dreams, I just started doing it. It was as if I suddenly had nothing to loose, so why not try. To my surprise, people really supported me! I even met someone special who has made my life even better. It turned out I didn’t need to escape my life. I needed to be embracing it.
Signpost directing where the Camino continues.
So, then I considered not going on this trip at all. I balked at the risk of leaving a good life, finally, a good life. The thing is, I had heard this call to adventure and I accepted it. My current level of comfort at home should not hinder me answering the call and stepping into the unknown. A person won’t grow well unless, from time to time, they face the unknown and seek the new knowledge and wisdom it has in store.
The beauty to this evolution is that I don’t know what I’m walking the Camino for. I am no longer escaping. I’m not appearing, like the last Camino, for myself. They’re is no record breaking, comparing, or competing. I’m simply embracing the unknown by putting one foot in front of the other, and continue to walk.
One of my tattoos: Ancient Greek, ἀγάπη, agápē, The highest form of love, loving for no other reason than it is right and good to do so.
I am a fan of hashtags. One recent one is #Chooselovenothate. This is my response to the pain I see on social media and in the world around me. I look back at my life and am so thankful that I have found the ability to love in a way that is more than seems humanly possible, but in a world so full of hate, how do we choose love?
Think about someone you are close with that once got angry or mean in a really stressful time. It is understandable that when we are stressed or scared we start to protect ourselves and this comes out as anger or meanness, especially when it is a friend or family member. I had a wise friend once tell me that fear and sadness are the root of anger. I reflected on the anger that I hold within me, and I found this to be true. These are the two reasons why today I became very angry at people that I love very much, not because of who they are, but because of the fear and sadness I had within me.
A lot of my anger stems from my issues in the military. I was taught to fear situations that many who have not walked in my shoes would think are rather uneventful. I am very sad, still to this day and maybe forever, because I live in a world that has left its scars. It’s like a cold and warm front smashing in to each other in my head and anger erupts. There are scars everywhere in the lives of each person, some are deeper than others. Still, how in a world that appears so full of hate, how do we choose love?
Think again about the person who you are close with and that you know they were just having a bad day and trying to protect themselves. Imagine that every person in this world who shows anger, hate, dislike, or is mean is merely trying to protect themselves because they have a fear front that clashed with a sadness front.
Step 1: Remember that each person is dealing with a story inside themselves that we may not be allowed to read.
They are struggling with fears that may or may not be warranted. They may fear something they do not understand, don’t agree with, or that is terribly different from who they are. They may be very sad that they are confused, don’t understand, or do not agree with a situation. Maybe their pride, guilt, or shame gets thrown into the midst. Maybe they have a whole story going on inside them that you or I will never be able to understand. I said it twice for a reason.
Fear, Sadness, Anger, Pride, Guilt, Shame are all normal emotions. Just in case you didn’t hear, they are NORMAL emotions. It is when we allow them to take control that we start to spiral out of control and they become beasts that overwhelm us and cause us to behave in ways that hurt ourselves and others. They say misery loves company, and I only use this old quote because if you think about it, it is really true, about so many different emotions. Misery just happened to get the copyright on it.
Now think of yourself in a moment where you were angry or lashed out at people around you. Afterwards, did you think about it?
I imagine my inner voice when I create.
If you thought about it, did you wish you could have done something different? When I am angry, hateful, spiteful, or just plain mean I hear a voice deep in my heart and soul that is crying for me. For a long time in my life I didn’t care, I never heard this voice. As I began to reconnect with who I wanted to be in life I found that there was this voice hiding behind the shadows in my life. Some people call it a conscience, intuition, angel’s voice, or many other things, I just call her my Wild Woman. Once I started listening to what was going on inside me, I could not turn back.
Step Two: Start listening to the voice inside yourself that says positive things, and encourages love and happiness.
This means you have to start listening to yourself. It looks different for different people. Some people pray because the voice in themselves is God. Some people meditate in order to clear the mind. Some journal or create in order to understand themselves. You have to understand your own emotions in order to better understand others. It’s a practice, not a perfection, by the way. It also looks like whatever it looks like for you. Try different things to begin understanding your own emotions.
You won’t always like what you are hearing, but remind yourself that you are in control over what is going on inside you.
Top left Emotion: Terrified. Center Left Emotion: I got this. Bottom Left Emotion: Wait!?!?! I’m doing what? Right Emotion: I got this, I control me!
The story that you may not share, is that story that you can control. You can throw it out, you can hold on to it, or you can take it and develop it into something more to be who you want to be. You see my last post? I didn’t let the darkness beat me, I found my voice. So can you! Take a leap of faith with me, you won’t even have to be on a 30ish foot pole like I was in this photo collage!
Step Three: Now that you are listening to yourself, tell yourself that you love you.
We are better equipped to love others when we love ourselves. Often anger and hate have little to do with the issue or with the person we lash out at, it has to do with us being unhappy with ourselves. Daily I practice this step, because it is really hard, and I don’t always remember I love myself. The great thing is that we have this Prefrontal Cortex that offers us reasoning (this can be altered in someone with PTSD or brain trauma, but dealing with that is a blog for a different day, maybe next week). So we can logically reason that since we feed, clothe, and provide sleep to our bodies that we actually do love ourselves, even if our emotions don’t jive with the statement. So use that reasoning and tell yourself that you love yourself. In the way that is right because you deserve to be loved, even if maybe you don’t like everything about yourself, you can still love yourself. So say it, go ahead, I’ll wait…
I’m waiting, just like this, right now, I promise. Go on, say you love yourself!
Step Four: Take that love you are practicing on yourself and practice it on others.
This means that you tell yourself you love other people, especially if they are making you want to lash out or are different from you, or make a mistake. You chose to read this article, you chose to pause and tell yourself you love yourself (or you chose not too and rolled your eyes instead!?!?), and you can choose to show love to others. In your head as you internally roll your eyes, remind yourself that you want to live in a world where you are loved no matter what. In order to live in a world like this you must give this love. When you are angry, people get angry back. When you show hate, you are shown hate in return. When you raise your voice the response is in a raised voice also. When you show love, you receive love.When you more easily forgive, you are more easily forgiven.
I have heard the argument that it is not easy to do, or that you can’t choose your emotions or sometimes even your behavior, but I will tell you right now… STOP. Stop telling yourself what you are not able to do anything. Stop being negative about your own abilities. I can sit here and I can tell you these four, seemingly simple steps, because I know that it is not easy at all and I know that it is not impossible. Some people practice a musical instrument, a fitness routine, or some other skill until they become the best that they want or can be. You probably have a practice that you have been practicing your whole life. So why not start this one too?
Step Five: Repeat as Needed
At the core of each of us we want to be loved. This means loving others and loving ourselves. For some this comes easily, for some it comes hard, and for some of us we get lost in between and wander in our shadow. When we are stuck in our shadow and our own story we have a hard time seeing the light and the love that comes with it. Those who want to live in the shadows, they can’t see through it. If you made it this far, then know that you can and will succeed at this. Stories now and forever ago confirm that love is the greatest of all emotions and values in life. You have to journey to get there. I still am, and even on days like today that I want to lash out, instead, I write and create and tell myself I love myself and I love others too much to choose hate. So today I choose love not hate. Will you join me in practicing? Will you choose love not hate?
