She was struck by the simple truth that sometimes the most ordinary things could be made extraordinary simply by doing them with the right people.” ~Nicholas Sparks, The Lucky Ones

Because I chose a less traveled route to Santiago, fewer pilgrims were encountered along the way, which offered both advantages and disadvantages. It was wonderful for Dana and I to have the spaciousness to find our own way, yet the camaraderie of fellow sojourners was limited until we got closer to our destination. When we at last spotted two people ahead on the trail carrying large backpacks (a dead give-away they were walking the Camino) we were thrilled. They stopped at a beach café for refreshment so we took the opportunity to catch up and introduce ourselves. The husband and wife team were from Germany and looked to be about our age, mid-fifties. The woman’s long blond hair was pulled back in a tight ponytail highlighting her vivid blue eyes and her husband was strong and fit with short-cropped hair. We felt a bit self-conscious about our wimpy daypacks having chosen to have our luggage transported via taxi to our next hotel.  Despite the discrepancy in backpack size, there was an instant bond with our fellow pilgrims, though our paths never crossed again.

A day or so later we met a younger couple along a dirt road. The woman walked about ten yards ahead of her partner who was clearly struggling with some sort of injury. It wasn’t until we saw them a second time resting in the shade of a tree that we were convinced they were actually a couple. Passing the young man the first time I extended the customary greeting, Bon Camino. As the words left my mouth I had a visceral experience – a surge of emotions as my eyes began to tear up.  Something hidden and deep in my being was stirred. I think it was the recognition of the connection between all pilgrims, not just those I would meet walking the Camino but also those on pilgrimage elsewhere, regardless of location, or age, or time in history.

Pausing at churches and chapels along the road, we would sometimes stop to sit in a pew for a moment of silence, rest, and shade, and also to acknowledge the spiritual nature of our walk. Often we would be completely alone or accompanied by a lone woman kneeling in prayer. It felt empty, as if the building itself was a shell washed upon the shoreline stripped of the living creature that had once inhabited it. Curiously, it wasn’t in the churches that I felt most spiritually alive. It was outside on the road with fellow pilgrims pulled together by a desire to walk and to let our personal stories fall away for a time as we fell into the larger story holding us all together.

Questions: Who are the fellow pilgrims accompanying you along your journey these days? How are you supported by their companionship?