Walking the Camino. [Some feelings]

1 sep 2016


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Backpack: cowardice, selfishness, impatience, indecisiveness, materialism, excessive secrecy, guilt, stubbornness, envy, bitterness, attachment, convenience, apathy, ego, short-tempered, enthusiasm, non-conformism.

Move a foot. Do the same with the other, Create a rhythm. Your rate. Now it’s yours. Unknowingly. Constant. Yours. Turn off your mobile.

Wanting something to happen. Not knowing what. Something’s going on. Keeping going. Looks, People. Atmosphere. Something’s about to happen. Not being able to sleep. First night. Noises. Snoring. Silence. Window. Bunk bed. Languages. Waking up. A friend, a hug. Beginning. Walking alone. Walking with someone. Feeling cold. Fruit. Rates. A bell ringing because someone is pulling a rope. A cemetery: sounds. Wise people. People going by, moving to your rhythm. Something’s moving around inside. Sounds, footsteps. Cows grazing. Sheepdogs. Anonymous greetings. Water flowing. Gurgling. Calling to you. You stop and look at it. You look and it talks to you. You continue with your rhythm and the water with its own. You move forward. Praying. Requesting. Being grateful. Receiving without asking. Sleeping when you need to sleep. Eating when you’re hungry. Gratitude. An unexpected downpour. Walking soaked through. Speaking with the water. Six hours and unable to avoid getting wet. People just like you. A drawing. Hours of silence, giving no explanations. Someone painting watercolours on the riverbank. Feeling connected. Not knowing with what. Hearing no swear words. Breathing lives. Shadows dancing. Your childhood. Your parents. Your life. Suddenly realizing that there is a lot you’re not interested in any more. Speaking in English. People not asking you questions. Seeing God in nature. Wondering what life was like six hundred years ago. Feeling as small as a grain of sand. Fitting in, but being insignificant. You come in handy, but if you’re not there, who cares? It all works out on the end. The universal language. Walking alone. Walking with someone. Getting to a square, crying, lying on the ground. Seeing people’s legs and feet. Saying confession in English. [“Remember, you have time”]. Carry on looking. An unexpected meeting. Buying yourself a yo-yo. Hanging around with people from other worlds and other languages moving the yo-yo. Knowing smiles. Being able to be yourself. To be serious, silent and distant and not to feel guilty because of it. Understanding. The end of the world. The sea. Eternity. Bicycles. A beach. Seagulls. Shadows. Rates. Playing beach tennis with a family as if there were no tomorrow. Tiredness being your only limit. Privilege. Seeing a kite. Losing every notion of time watching a kite. Children playing, speaking. Complicating your life. It being worth it. Turning on your mobile. Wanting to throw it away. Realizing that there are other things you like. Knowing that your backpack will still contain the same things. Accepting it and loving it as your own. Polishing it. Minimizing the damage. But accepting yourself. An insignificant and fleeting feeling of peace. Walking alone. Walking with someone. And that contradiction, between solitude and accompaniment, make sense of my life.

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