Three weeks in. Now, here things change a lot. I should say
something about my mind at this moment.
I was actually asked by a fellow Walker if I felt like
'there was something' on the Camino, 'someone watching over us',
as he felt. I had not yet thought of the serendipity angle in any
conscious manner, so I basically gave him a long 'no', while at
the same time explaining what I would count as a moment of
spiritual depth, if such is afforded to a non-believer. But also
I did tell him about the slowing down that was very much a reality
to me by then. I felt that I was slowly released from the strenght
of the recurring thought patterns but I was not released of the
patterns themselves or having new, fresh patterns. At the same
time though, something was being released into my blood flow.
I felt like I was allowed to feel more pain for my past years
than I was when I started the Camino. This I didn't tell him.
There is a point in the Camino del Norte where you can choose to
take to the mountains, or you can continue along the coast. The
mountain way is called Camino Primitivo and is apparently the
first Camino, started by some king in the Middle Ages. As I
was coming closer to this point, maybe prompted by the decision
to finish the Camino with my 'improved' footwear, I decided to
take the Primitivo. Another reason was that I had started to be
really annoyed by the weather, or more precisely the showers that
started randomly, lasted an hour and went, only to start again
later. I didn't have proper rain gear either. I would rather
be properly drenched or dry, but this on and off is just annoying.
So I thought that maybe the coastal mountains will stop most
of the weather getting inland?
So, back to my state of mind. I had decided to go to the mountains
but had to leave the coast behind for the rest of the trip, and
I had really loved the coast. So I decided to have a little
farewell party with the coast. On the last day I would be walking
by the sea, I had a bottle of two euro wine with me. I was
sitting on a bench on a hill, looking over some amateur surfers
trying to catch waves, drinking my wine. As it happened, one of
their boyfriends came over with a dog, the same breed of dog that
I had lost with my breakup, along with everything else, of
course. But that dog was the closest thing to a child I will
ever have, in all likelihood. And that was the only time I
saw a dog of that breed while in Spain. But after that I
often imagined him walking next to me, like we used to walk,
but on the Camino. And I would wonder how is he getting
the excercise he needs, my ex being as she is, an indoor
person.
Another Camino tradition is bringing a stone from your home
country that represents the sorrow you wish to leave behind.
I had brought a stone of dirty white and pink of a rather ugly
star-like shape. After seeing this dog from afar I started
taking the stone out of my pack, holding it and mulling over
the life left behind. But not in a narrative way, but more
like meditating on the pain.
So, as I walked further from the sea, it felt like walking
further from that life. I would still see the ocean whenever
I got high enough, for surprisingly many days. The last time
I saw it, I was already with my walking Partner.
I basically got lost every time I was walking through a bigger
city on the Camino. The way is marked, but the markers get
easily lost in all the other signals in the city. As I was
finally getting back on track, I came across three women,
one of which turned out to become the Partner. I don't know
what exactly was the factor, but something about her was just
somehow 'compatible' with me. There were several obvious things
like the fact that she is in the same type of business as I am,
she comes from a culture I have a strong connection with, she
reminds me of two friends of friends in mannerism, but I don't
think these were the real reason that we became a team.
This connection is the ultimate serendipity of the Camino for
me. What happened during the next six days was some kind of
a mindmelt. If you imagine having a therapist who is not an
authority figure but instead is talking from personal
experience that matches your own in significant ways. Then
add to that an openmindedness that is almost like a complete
lack of judgment, but not in a way that dissipates into a
'whatever'. Then imagine spending six days with a person like
that.
There is also the fact that she is not connected to my past life.
It creates this freedom to just say things as I remember them now,
instead of remembering what they already know about me previously.
I don't want to make it sound like I am usually somehow 'keeping
up a storyline' with my friends, it's not like that. There is,
however, the process of putting in new information into an
existing structure, which takes some energy. With my Partner,
I was able to just say stuff, without the friction of the past
knowledge.
As I thought about people in my past, there were people and times
when I have been able to have similar discussions, but not like
this, this was extreme. Also, the level of the conversation was
different than what I have known. It was more on an emotional
level, but strangely without any obvious emotionality. I think
this last peculiarity is most likely due to the act of walking.
The walking takes away some pressure that would be present if
the same conversation was happening face to face, actually
looking in the eyes of the other person. There would be more
emotions, because the constant mirroring that would happen.
When I thought back, I could see that there were some moments
in my life when I have had talks of the most important matters
and they have been during walks. This is something I must take
advantage of in the future.
The talks themselves were not 'special' in any rhetorical or
logical way. It was just that one of us would describe some
aspect of our brokenness, and the other would listen, maybe give
some comment, or usually go on about some problem that they
have that is somehow illuminating a similar theme. We were both
burned out, had experienced similar power dynamics in our
relationships, had similar stresses with work and meaning, had
similar ideological themes...
Now the reader would not be completely wrong to ponder if this
'therapy session' should better be called 'falling in love'...
I thought about it, and well, I am more inclined to compare
the situation to when someone thinks they have fallen in love
with their therapist. It's the mental intimacy, I think. It
is actually quite close to falling in love. I think the best
way I have heard it described was probably by Abraham Maslow,
although it could have been one of the other humanistic
psychologists. He somehow equated falling in love with making
friends. Like it is the same process, but there is another
filter to falling in love than there is to making friends.
So in a way you could say as a straight male that you fell
in love with another man, but since your sexual preference is
what it is, you are filtering them out as a possible lover.
Then just add all kinds of filters you like and you get to a
situation where you are indeed attracted to a lot of people but
end up friends. Then as time goes on, you sort of forget how
you felt in the beginning and might come to believe that the
categories are completely separate.
In any case, with the level of intimacy, I think that this is why
we went our separate ways after the six days. There were other
more practical reasons, like different preferences in scheduling,
but I do think that there was some limit that was about to be
reached.
It's not like I didn't see her again, though. We met on the road
several times and in the end of the road as well. It's just that
after the Session was ended, we never got back to the same
level. If I met her with the group she was in, there would be
some strain, some uncomfortableness in her. It might be because
I made it no secret that I considered the time with her very
important for me, so I am sure the younger people would be
asking her what does that entail...
In any case, after I was back on my own, I realised that I
actually really need to meditate on the Session. This is how I
spent the rest of the way to Santiago. I was quite emotional
by now, feeling like this connection was sort of a bright
flash of hope. I came to see the Stone of Sorrow that I am
carrying as the fear that I will not fit in, will not find people
who I relate to. This is an old fear, I must have had it at
least since I was ten. I basically don't remember a time I have
fit in. And there is something about becoming older. People
stop making new friends, they don't have time. But now I at
least had this experience of connection and it gave me some
kind of overwhelming sense of hope. It was basically like in
Kill Bill vol 2, when Uma is crying on the floor because she is
so happy, except she has a beard and a tent, and no one died.
