Meeting the diverse range of people I mentioned previously while slogging up the slippery slopes of the Pyrenees on that first day gave me at least a modicum of hope for mankind. Despite our differences, I suppose there's a commonality to those walking the with me, something that connects us. I'm sure many are true pilgrims- they're on a journey of moral or spiritual significance.
Not me. Being agnostic (I’m too much of a chicken-shit to be an atheist) I’m here for other reasons. But in the end, I guess my rationale isn't much different than that of the true pilgrim. I'm here to give myself time to think, to dig inside and get closer to my heart and soul so I can heal the wounds I've been ignoring for the last few years, unfettered by the Sturm und Drang of everyday life.
And like the silent wind that pushed me, unwittingly, to the Camino, I have no idea how I ever allowed myself to look past the worthless pile of shit I had convinced myself I was, to be deserving enough to take a month and flit off to Spain on what seemed like a whim. -Mark West, "All Roads Lead Home- Life, Love, and Forgiveness on the Camino de Santiago"
Photo taken on the meseta near Villacienzo
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