The Camino and Me Counselling and Psychotherapy

The Camino and Me Counselling and Psychotherapy
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  • Posts
    • Cork – St Jean Pied de Port
      • Day 1; St Jean Pied de Port – Roncesvalles
      • Day 2; Roncesvalles – Zubiri
      • Day 3; Zubiri – Pamplona
      • Day 4; Pamplona to Obanos
      • Day 5; Obanos – Estella
      • Day 6; Estella – Los Arcos
      • Day 7; Los Arcos – Logroño
      • Day 8; Logroño – Ventosa
      • Day 9; Ventosa – Cirueña
      • Day 10; Cirueña – Santo Domingo de la Calzada
      • Day 11; Santo Domingo – Belorado
      • Day 12; Belorado – San Juan de Ortega
      • Day 13; San Juan de Ortega – Burgos
      • Day 14; Burgos – Hontanas
      • Day 15; Hontanas – Castrojeriz
      • Day 16; Castrojeriz – Frómista
      • Day 17; Frómista – Carrión de los Condes
      • Day 18; Carrión de los Condes – Ledigos
      • Day 19; Ledigos – Calzadilla de los Hermanillos
      • Day 20; Calzadilla de los Hermanillos – Mansilla de las Mulas
      • Day 21; Mansilla de las Mulas – León
      • Day 22; Leon – Hospital de Órbigo
      • Day 23; Hospital de Órbigo – Astorga – 15 km
      • Day 24; Astorga – Foncebadón – 27.2 km
      • Day 25; Foncebadón- Ponferrada – 25 km
      • Day 26; Ponferrada – Villafranca del Bierzo – 23.5 km
      • Day 27; Villafranca del Bierzo – La Faba – 25 km
      • Day 28; La Faba – Triacastela – 26 km
      • Day 29; Triacastella – Sarria – 25 km
      • Day 30; Sarria – Portomarín – 22.4 km
      • Day 31; Portomarín – Palas de Rei – 24.8 km
      • Day 32; Palas de Rei – Ribadiso – 25.8 km
      • Day 33; Ribadiso – Lavacolla – 32 km
      • Day 34: Lavacolla – Santiago and Goodbye
      • The Camino and Me
  • Themes
    • Stepping into the Ring
    • Enjoying the mystery
    • Fear and Courage
    • Risk and Vulnerability
    • Meeting and Letting go
    • Giving In
  • Tag: Puente de la Reina

    • Day 5; Obanos – Estella

      Posted at 6:08 pm by Mary Murphy, on December 8, 2019

      After breakfast in Puente de la Reina, Manoel, Sue and I separated, and until mid morning, which on the Camino is about 9.30, I walked alone. Then I met David, an Irish musician in his mid thirties, who lived in Paris with his girlfriend. We hit it off straight away, and I realised as the hours passed that I didn’t want to share him with anyone else. It seemed we could talk about anything, and our conversation flowed freely. We talked about life, struggles, heartbreak, personal histories, influences; we covered a lot in one day! I usually think of myself as an open person, but on the Camino that was not how I was at all. However with David I was completely open. I let him see me and I saw him.

      After five hours of walking together and only one brief coffee stop we reached Estella. Immediately, I faced a choice between a further uphill climb into town to find a private albergue, or settle for the big municipal hostel that stood in front of me. Despite my preference for small homely places, my tiredness dictated my decision. Initially we waited in the street with a few other pilgrims for the scheduled 1 p.m. opening time, not realising it was in fact already open. While we waited I noticed that the ease I had felt while I had walked with David had gone. I now felt awkward about our arrival together, as that often meant sharing a bunk, or at least ending up in close physical proximity. I also didn’t want anyone to assume we were a couple. Quite why that had any importance I don’t know, but at the time it did.

      Once inside the albergue, David placed his rucksack on the ground before he set about a comprehensive rummage through his belongings. I was puzzled about what needed to be so urgently rescued when we only required the usual items: a Camino passport and €5 in cash. Why anyone would bury them in their belongings I couldn’t understand. I didn’t know whether to wait for him to find whatever he was looking for or not. In the end I decided to register without him, and when I received my bed number I went upstairs, leaving him to continue his search in the foyer.

      Shortly after arriving in the dorm, Dublin John appeared next to me. He had been allocated the bunk above mine, and as we prepared our nests for the night, we did our best to navigate around each other without touching. There was still no sign of David. I thought perhaps the rummaging in his bag had been a delaying tactic, and I wondered if I had lost him. Despite the connection I had experienced with him, or perhaps because of it, I was relieved not to be sharing close physical quarters with him – it was easier for me to share such confinement with strangers – but I didn’t want to lose him either.

      We hadn’t eaten along the way, and even though I was really hungry, I delayed lunch further in favour of chores. That was a mistake! By the time I had finished washing, the supermarkets were closed for siesta, so any ideas I had about making lunch in the homely albergue kitchen were quashed. Instead, I found a soulless, empty bar along the street serving food, and while I could have explored the town afterwards, I had neither the interest nor the energy for more activity. It might have been a pretty town, but I was unlikely to see it, except on the way out in the semi-darkness of the morning.

      Late in the afternoon, I observed a few people, including David and Dublin John, chatting in the garden, and although I wanted to join them, I hesitated. I questioned whether or not I should. Maybe David wants some space, I thought, and as I second-guessed what David wanted, I held back and denied my own needs. In the evening, Dublin John was rounding up people for dinner, but I wouldn’t join them – by then I had lost any ability for conversation.

      With hindsight I have a clearer understanding of the events that triggered my reactions that day. In David I had found a kindred spirit, someone who spoke my language. He was the first person I was willing to confide in, and while we walked I felt held in a protective bubble, without interference from the external world. But when we were reunited with the world, it was a transition I found difficult to make; I felt challenged by the reintegration process. During the day when I observed David in conversation with others, I told myself not to be a burden to him, yet at the same time I felt burdened by what seemed to be required of me – assimilation into a wider group and the ordinary conversations of Camino life.

      Posted in Day by Day | 0 Comments | Tagged albergue, Camino, Camino Passport, Closed, Connection, Extella, heartbreak, kindred spirits, Obanos, Openness, pilgrim, Puente de la Reina
    • Day 4; Pamplona to Obanos

      Posted at 6:37 pm by Mary Murphy, on December 1, 2019

      On the outskirts of Pamplona I met Manoel and Sue again and we walked while we exchanged stories about how we had spent the previous night. However, the conversation didn’t last long as quite soon I began to slip behind with fatigue. When slowing down didn’t provide enough relief I decided it was time to take a break. ‘I’m going to have to give in,’ I shouted to let them know I was stopping.

      I felt I really had to stop, even though the environment around me wasn’t conducive to resting. The dry, cracked earth was home only to some spiky-looking plants. With little comfort to choose from, I considered an upright, concrete Camino bollard as a seating possibility. Once I was sure there wasn’t a softer option, I sat on it, and although it was a seat of sorts, it was not a comfortable one.

      As I contemplated my situation, I couldn’t believe that four days into the Camino I was already exhausted; it was so much harder than I had expected. Apart from the physical weight on my back, I was also carrying some very heavy emotions, and they were often more difficult to carry than the rucksack. Once again, I returned to thoughts about the kind of Camino I had imagined I would experience and this was nothing like it! In my imagination, the Camino was a healing escape, one that I was meant to fall in love with, and I had naively hoped I’d bypass the difficult stuff. I had underestimated completely how the conditions of the Camino would work to strip away my defences, layer by layer. This was going to be a struggle for which I was ill prepared.

      A couple of hours passed before I stopped again at a pilgrim monument on the top of Alto de Perdón where the seating options were marginally improved. The monument, a line of life-size pilgrim figures cut from iron, conveyed to me a sense of what it took to be a pilgrim in earlier times. Then, pilgrims had journeyed with minimal comfort in order to complete their Camino, and it seemed to me they must have walked with great commitment and sincere hearts. It was humbling to be reminded of what others were willing to endure on their pilgrim quest. While I rested there, I thought about what I needed to help me manage the challenges the Camino was presenting me with. I had already noticed that where I stayed and how supportive it felt was important to me, so I reflected on my options. The next official stop was Puente de la Reina, a big town, and at the start of the day it was where I assumed I would stay. Now I thought that is perhaps not what is best for me. Instead of falling in with what most pilgrims were planning I decided that I would stop in the small village of Obanos, a few kilometres before Puente de la Reina. Satisfied with my decision, I communicated my plan to Sue and Manoel before I took off again.

      After lunch the afternoon stretch was very dry and hot, hot, hot. The intense heat felt torturous and fatigue took me over completely. Manoel and Sue had fallen behind and I was walking alone, which is how I wanted to keep it. I am not enjoying this Camino one bit! By then, I was in such a resentful state that I didn’t want to speak to anyone. However, I sensed a presence close behind me and when I turned around I discovered my stalker was a beautiful black Labrador and hugs and kisses were exchanged. A dog was no threat! Within moments, the dog’s master, a man in his forties, appeared beside me and began speaking to me in Spanish. Although I tried to respond, I also wished he would just walk on and leave me alone. Then he demonstrated himself collapsing under a great weight and I realised the meaning of his words. ‘Yes, heavy and tired,’ I said. On cue, he lifted and held my rucksack up off my back and as I adjusted the straps, I felt the weight shift from my shoulders to my hips. In response, I almost cried with relief while I clasped his arm to communicate my thanks, repeating my words over and over. Soon afterwards he handed me his walking stick, insisting that I walk with it to ease the pressure. He still talked away in Spanish, none of which I understood, until I heard him say fiesta and I wondered if he was inviting me to a dance! Then as some others came into earshot behind, my companion fell back to talk to them and I took my chance to pull away.

      Prior to arriving in Obanos, I was reunited with Manoel and Sue and we headed straight for the albergue. However, we were in for some deflating news: it was closed due to a local fiesta. The Spanish man had not been inviting me to a dance after all! In disbelief, I gazed through the window, in the vain hope of seeing some life inside, but it really was closed. Moreover, it was the only albergue in the village. Sue and Manoel would have walked on, but I was absolutely determined not to go another step and I declared I was going to stay in a hotel. I had seen a sign on the way into town and I wanted to retrace my steps to find it.

      The sign I had seen was in fact a Casa Rural, a private house with accommodation on a room-only basis. Then while we stood outside the house, the man with the black Labrador reappeared and caught my arm by way of saying goodbye. He seemed to acknowledge that something special had passed between us; I felt it too. Before we parted, I offered to return his walking stick, but he refused to take it; it was mine to keep.

      Inside the house, I felt my spirits lift after the adventures of the day. We were shown to a lovely room which was like a treasure trove with pieces of antique furniture throughout and a little outdoor balcony where we could hang our clothes to dry. There were two soft single beds in place along with fluffy towels and an en-suite shower. An additional camp bed was provided for the third person; Manoel insisted that was him. I felt truly blessed by the kindness of my fellow pilgrims. It was their willingness to support me that meant I had both companionship and comfort.

      Emilio’s wife, Sue, Manoel, Me, Emilio – Obanos

      On our way back to the Casa Rural after dinner, we saw the hospitalero with his wife sitting outside the house enjoying the evening sun and we stopped to greet them. Within seconds he pulled at my arm to place me beside him, and although we had no common language, I felt we could communicate. Emilio, a man in his sixties, enjoyed comparing the colour of his skin with mine; it seemed to amuse him to touch my pale, white, cold arm with his sun-drenched, dark, warm skin. While we talked, he shared with us his store of fresh walnuts, breaking the shells against the wall with the palm of his hand. I felt relaxed and connected as I enjoyed Emilio’s hospitality and the companionship of my new friends.

      Back in our room, Manoel took out a Brazilian postcard that he had carried with him from home, perhaps for just such an occasion, and we all wrote our gratitude to the hospitaleros for their generosity. That day I felt touched by the generous interventions of strangers, and as a result, more connected to myself and those around me. At the time I wasn’t particularly open to receiving kindness. Yet those restorative experiences were exactly what I needed.

      Posted in Day by Day | 0 Comments | Tagged Alto de Perdon, blessings, Camino Frances, generosity, gratitude, hospitaleros, kindness, Obanos, Pamplona, Puente de la Reina, support, Zubiri
    • Mary Margaret Murphy

    • Recent Posts

      • Taking the plunge! 30/01/2021
      • Guided by Intention 30/01/2021
      • Day 34: Lavacolla – Santiago and Goodbye 13/04/2020
      • Day 33; Ribadiso – Lavacolla – 32 km 12/04/2020
      • Day 32; Palas de Rei – Ribadiso – 25.8 km 11/04/2020
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