Perspectives on the Camino de Santiago--a year later-Day 2
The second day of the Camino was a
great day. I got a good night’s sleep the night before in the large albergue in
Ronceveaux...
and started out that morning full of excitement. I walked with a woman from France and another woman from Canada. It rained the day before and was still raining the second day, misting really. On one part of the path there were some beautiful paving stones that had been put in (I guess) to make the Way better. The situation was this, however, descending from the ascent of the day before, wet slick pavement, and me. I was really being careful, even walking in the muddy path on the side of the slick paving stones—did I mention that these paving stones were very slick in the rain? The muddy path ended on the right side of the paving stones but took back up on the left side of the “slick” paving stones. I attempted to cross—using slow, small, side steps, carefully and gently I made my way to the middle of the paving stones I took another step and everything happened in slow motion—whoosh I went up in the air and back down hard. My two new friends heard the commotion and they turned and rushed back up to where I was laying flat on my back. I had several injuries that to which they tended. They had their first aid kits out so fast I knew I was in good hands.
and started out that morning full of excitement. I walked with a woman from France and another woman from Canada. It rained the day before and was still raining the second day, misting really. On one part of the path there were some beautiful paving stones that had been put in (I guess) to make the Way better. The situation was this, however, descending from the ascent of the day before, wet slick pavement, and me. I was really being careful, even walking in the muddy path on the side of the slick paving stones—did I mention that these paving stones were very slick in the rain? The muddy path ended on the right side of the paving stones but took back up on the left side of the “slick” paving stones. I attempted to cross—using slow, small, side steps, carefully and gently I made my way to the middle of the paving stones I took another step and everything happened in slow motion—whoosh I went up in the air and back down hard. My two new friends heard the commotion and they turned and rushed back up to where I was laying flat on my back. I had several injuries that to which they tended. They had their first aid kits out so fast I knew I was in good hands.
I
was reminded that day of what I used to tell my children when they fell, “Pick
yourself up, dust yourself off and keep going.” It’s an attitude thing. This
wasn’t really a new perspective for me but laying there flat on my back, on
only the second day of a thirty plus day “long” walk, only 20 some odd miles in
to a 600 mile walk—I had to think about what that meant and how my children
must have felt when I said that to them.
How
do people pick themselves up, dust themselves off and start all over again?
Does one really do that all alone? No. I don’t think so. My fall took a lot out
of me that second day. But I knew I was not alone. I had others that helped me.
I knew that others back home were walking with me, and I had a strength that
came from deep inside me that I believe actually came from something beyond me.
My
understanding of strength and perseverance grew that day. I was grateful,
humbled and determined—and accepted more fully that I never walk alone.
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