Honoring the Second Half

Early this morning, I allowed myself to be pulled from what had been what I might call a Camino zen state, just as I began the day in which I crossed the halfway point of my pilgrimage. 

After two weeks of walking over 250 miles, I felt disconnected from the stresses of my life and work back home and fully present on the way to Santiago in Spain.

I hadn’t anticipated opening my personal email account to encounter alerts from multiple San Diego local news outlets as well as from the neighborhood discussion site NextDoor, on a matter directly related to my job. Without getting into details, I learned about a major technical glitch in a billing report that resulted in tens of thousands of residents receiving a bill with an incorrect amount owed, characterized as a scandal and discussing calls for resignations. 

I’ll reflect on three aspects of this. First, if my team is reading this, you have got this. I stand by you. As a former director once said to me, it’s not about the stumble, it’s about the recovery. Also, as I have told staff I’ve supervised over the years countless times, navigating and learning from missteps or errors is an essential part of experience, as long as we can learn from it. You have my confidence. We will all learn from this and find opportunities for improvements. 

Second, I have since unsubscribed from the local news and NextDoor email lists. This isn’t about being misinformed or avoiding information. Rather, it’s about setting boundaries and seeking out information on my terms and schedule, rather than be provoked or influenced on someone else’s terms or worse yet by an algorithm. For this reason, I’ve refrained from instagram and Facebook while on the Camino, and I have to say I miss neither. 

Third, as I enter the second half of my pilgrimage, I’m hopeful to restore the feeling of peace I had attained on the first half and that I remain fully present through the rest of my walk to Santiago. 

It’s still a long road ahead with around two more weeks of walking, prayer and reflection, and l aspire to keep those as my focus. 

I have to admit I had a rough time shaking this topic today, but a chance encounter helped quite a bit. As I walked, I encountered a woman with a 617 cap  attached to her backpack. Having once had a work colleague based in Boston, I recognized the number as an area code and used it as my opener.

“617“ 

“Boston?”

“Yes!” She said. 

This led to a new friendship with Allison and more than two hours of walking together.

Allison has three sons, the youngest of which just started as a freshman at Michigan State University the same school, where my nephew just began as a freshman this fall as well. Her Camino is a gift to herself to commemorate reaching empty nest state. 

Among the topics covered included the magical moments we had both encountered on the Camino. For her part, on day one, from St. Jean to Roncesvalles, just after ascending above the cloud layer, she encountered a man spreading the ashes of his lost wife by a statue of the Virgin Mary. She didn’t speak Spanish and he didn’t speak English, but she comforted him and then said her goodbye. Later that day, upon reaching Roncesvalles,  she needed to call a cab to get to where she would be staying that evening. Strangely enough, when the cab arrived, the same man was inside which led to a conversation between the two of them, facilitated by Google translate, during what she learned the backstory of the man and his deceased wife. I also told her some of my experiences to date, including the ribbon I had received in Zaragoza, how I happened to sing Ave Maria in Pamplona, and how and when I felt called to say goodbye to Erin. 

We appreciated each other’s stories, and then she asked me, “I don’t want to diminish these experiences and the magic of the Camino, but do you think this also exists back home too, but that we move to quickly and fill our lives with too much noise to notice it?”

“Yes” I told her. There’s a lesson there I hope to carry with me back to San Diego.

Allison and I got on great because we were able to have a serious conversation but we also demonstrated that we both also know how to have some fun. 

She asked me about the walk from Hontanas to Boadilla del Camino, and whether I saw the man with the professional camera equipment in a field. 

“Yes!” I told her. 

“Did you talk to him?”

“Of course I stopped for my Camino glamour shots!”

So Allison and I both stopped to get our photos taken by Luca, a photographer from Italy who does pilgrim portraits on a donation basis. What an experience. Allison’s story is much more interesting than mine, but it’s not mine to tell, but if you ask me in person, maybe I will share. For now, I’ll just post some of the ridiculously extra photos taken of me in a random field in the middle of Spain on the Camino. Because why not?