Good Sabbath! (6/07/2016)

Camino Day 7: Sabbath

When Eric decided to apply for the Lilly Grant and we began to make plans for this Sabbatical, we knew the theme was going to be about “Sabbath”. What does it mean to rest on the Sabbath? Do we still need a Sabbath? Why? And what does it look like?

So, as we laid our plans for the Camino, we built in about 4-5 Sabbath rest days. We wanted to intentionally stop and rest and see what it would feel like. What could we learn that we could bring back to our daily lives?

Will I always feel "sluggish" on the Sabbath?

Eric read several books and compiled a set of devotions for us to ponder along our journey that speak about Sabbath. We read a snippet each day, which gives us something to focus on and a conversation starter that we can take advantage of. I’ve enjoyed the readings and being able to roll them around in my head.

Is the Sabbath a chance to enjoy God' creation?

One of the readings that particularly got my attention was the idea that we shouldn’t “create” on the Sabbath. Just like God created the world in six days and rested on the seventh, we should toil, develop, create and do for six days and relax on the seventh. A fine idea! 

Not so great in practice…at least for me. Just what am I supposed to do on that seventh day if there is no creating involved? We are already not cooking. I cheated and did laundry because I wanted to take advantage of an actual washing machine. I tried for a while NOT to write this blog…obviously I failed…

I am not good at BEING! And, I think the only thing that forced us to really laze about was Rachel’s foot. We realize that she needs to be off of it and it needs to be elevated. Plus, our loft is on the 5th floor (technically the 4th because Europeans start with the ground floor as zero, but when we climb those 80+ stairs, it really IS the 5th floor, believe me!). So, we don’t take the stairs lightly. :)

Or is it slowing down and spending time with loved ones?

So here I am wondering what I’ve learned about Sabbath. I’m not sure yet. I’ll let you know when I find out. I know I’ve got lots of miles ahead of me to ponder the idea. I’ve got several more Sabbath rest days to practice with. And I’ve got more devotions to read and think about.

Buen Camino!

The Camino Provides (6/06/2016)

Day 6: NOT A Walking Day

My friend, Michelle, who walked the Camino a few years ago, reminded me just before we left for Spain that the Camino provides everything we need for our journey.

And, in the weeks leading up to the Camino, I was working my way through a book called The Art of Pilgrimage—which offered some insights on pilgrimage, in general. One of the quotes from that book that I brought along with me was a challenge to “try to see yourself as a peripatetic artist whose job it is to capture in art, music or story the essential secret of the day.” Some days, that’s a challenge. 

We are early in our journey and still trying to find our “legs”, our rhythm, our pace. But most days, I’ve found some sort of nugget or morsel that has nestled in my brain. Something I’ve wanted to put in my blog as a musing to look back upon and think about and remember.

I think since the end of day 2, I’ve watched Rachel struggle and press on, hurt and press on, make adjustments and press on. I have both admired her determination and sighed in frustration at her stubbornness. It wasn’t until day 3 (I think) that I finally got her to accept walking sticks! She still doesn’t like them and would prefer not to have them, but she at least admits their benefit—especially when trying to navigate downhill in sandals on feet with blisters and a possible stress fracture.

Yesterday, the Camino gave us HEAT…but also quite a lot of flat terrain and wide walking paths made of crushed stone. So, blessing and curse. :) I’m not sure I found the secret of yesterday, except perhaps the importance of listening to my body. I’ve discovered that there is a difficult balance between mind over matter/forcing yourself onward despite the discomfort and trying to listen to what your body is saying.

I have never worn a backpack like we carry on the Camino. So I’m not familiar with the way it should fit and what adjustments need to be made when different aches and pains arise. For the past two days, I’ve struggled with pain in my shoulders. I’ve lowered my backpack to make it sit snuggly on the hips, just above my bum. I’ve tried tightening that lower belt to try to carry most of the weight on the hips. But, in the mornings I can generally get about 2 hours of walking done before my shoulders begin to ache. I’ve tried adjusting the shoulder straps and the strap across my breast bone. But once the tightening starts in my shoulders (sometimes my right; sometimes my left), it just gets worse and worse until I have to stop and remove the pack. I’ve noticed for years that my left shoulder pulls forward, so I don’t know if the pain is from the backpack forcing better posture upon me. And, I also wonder if it is just my body adjusting to the weight and it will get better as the days go by. But I know that as the afternoon wears on and the miles stack, I can stand the pack for less and less time before it must be removed for a few minutes. So, I listen and try to respond, and I question and adjust.

Today (6/06), the Camino gave us a bus trip. :) We were already planning for a rest day in Logrono, and since Rachel’s foot was quite swollen last night and the journey into Logrono was going to be extra long (about 18 miles, I think), we decided it would be wise to take the bus. This gives us today and tomorrow to rest and be still. 

Rachel hanging out the window to get a street view.

We have a lovely 4th floor apartment to stretch out in. Down below is the cafe/tapas area of town where we can pop down and grab a bite. We will spend some time listening to our bodies, slowing down a bit, and gathering strength for the journey ahead. And on Wednesday, we will decide if we take a bus into Najera or if some or all of us walk again on this day. It is worth considering because it is another longer walking day.

Looking from the loft on the kitchen area of our apartment.

And I wonder, for me will the days of rest be a chance to gain strength or will I lose ground in learning my pace and settling into a routine. What will the Camino provide ahead? Not a clue! But I am confident that we will learn more about ourselves, our journeys and what lessons we can bring back from The Way that will benefit us in the long run.

Blessings,

Sue

Day 4: The Camino is Cruel!

The Camino is cruel!

(Rachel says I should stop my post right here and insert pictures of blisters, feet covered with duct tape, us exhausted and sweaty after a long day and the hills.)

Pictures of hills don’t do them justice. You just can’t appreciate the ascents and descents in 2D form.

But really, the Camino lures you in, making you think that of course you can walk it. What’s 15 miles? A five hour walk at 3 miles an hour. Stops along the way at cafes. Changing landscapes, interesting people.

Well, we are four days in and reality is upon us. We’ve all agreed that 12 miles a day isn’t bad. But those last three (or more) chew us up and spit us out! The Camino shuffle becomes a real thing. I start thinking to myself…”just keep moving.”

The Camino lures you into thinking that a 3 mph pace should be do-able. Then you see the hills. I can’t figure out which is worse—uphill or downhill. Rachel says the only time she doesn’t hurt is uphill. Eric prefers flats, with smooth terrain so he can look around instead of watching his step. I do downhill ok with my walking sticks. And all I have to do is take three steps of an ascent and I’m breathing heavily. But I make it up ok—just panting. And, forget the 3 mph pace!

And, if the panting didn’t concern me, the wayside markers of those who died along the Camino bring to mind new thoughts. Let me just say right now that if I die along the Camino, I will have died doing what I want to do. I was going to say I would die a happy person, but when I’m breathing up a lung, that might not be considered happy!

Then there’s my backpack! The blessing and curse of the Camino. Of course, you need it to transport your gear. But my little backpack that I was so proud of (weighing in at maybe 12 lbs) feels like it must weigh at least 20. And when I pick it up in the last few miles, it has grown to 30!

Another cruelty of the Camino is the guidebook. Great synopsis of every little village you come to. But is it really accurate? Those distances seem like a gross underestimation. And the cafes that it assures you are in the village—are they really? And if they are, will they be open? And if you happen to pass it up (because for 3 days, you didn’t realize an albergue was more than just a place to stay and could also be a bar, cafe, restaurant), you don’t DARE turn around to get to it!

Do you see what I mean? The Camino is cruel—offering hope, promising things it just can’t provide, making you think things are just around the corner, drawing you onward to the next village.

And each village does beckon! It’s an adventure. And well worth the cruelty. I’m content (at this point) to have a love/hate relationship with the Camino.

[Just keep walking….]

The Communal Camino

One of the things we are dealing with in the early stages of the camino is how to communicate well. Mostly, we do pretty well. But there are three of us. We are different ages, different sizes, different athletic abilities. And we have different needs and priorities. And how do we express our wants and needs in a way that is communal. How do I share what I need/want without being demanding and insensitive to the needs of everyone else? And how do I support the others without making incorrect assumptions about what they want and need?

For example, we were looking for a place to eat dinner. Eric really wanted roasted lamb. I was hungry, and I like lamb, so I'm fine looking for a place to eat lamb. Rachel doesn't want lamb, but figures she will find something else wherever we find the lamb. But all of us are tired and want to find a place fairly close to the hotel.

It's not long before we realize that roasted lamb isn't on the menus. We find a restaurant and Rachel and Eric are looking at the pilgrims menu. I scan it quickly, see that there is no lamb and I am ready to move on. What I don't realize until we sit down at a burger joint is that both of them had been interested in eating at that restaurant. And I find out when I express my own desire at eating at a similar restaurant at some point down the road. They thought I wasn't interested, but I was. I had just skimmed the menu because I was still trying to find Eric's lamb. So here we are--all three interested in eating at the same place, but none of us doing a great job of communicating and all of us trying to be sensitive to the needs of others.

In similar fashion, we have already discovered that our paces and focuses on the path are different and we are making an effort to communicate needs along the trail. When I get tired, my pace slows down. When Eric gets tired, he just wants to keep moving until he gets to the destination for the day. When Rachel gets tired, she isn't really tired, the bottoms of her feet are killing her, and she needs to stop and rest. Three different needs and priorities. So we work it out daily. And we are already getting better at saying what we need and learning how to pace together. And I'm sure we will get better as we journey farther together.

As we pace, I notice that we follow the same general path, but are on different parts of the trail. We all find the space that suits us best--sometimes to the left, sometimes to the right, sometimes on a small detour. And we’ve gotten better and moving farther apart and coming back together. We can’t walk in lock-step.

It's easy to see these things out on the trail, when it is just the three of us. But isn't this true for all of us living in community? Within our families? Roommate situations? Work communities? Faith communities? We just can't see it so clearly because we are distracted by life.

But I think we are all challenged to make sure we communicate well with those around us and remain sensitive to the reality that our wants, needs, desires, abilities are different. But we can find a way to pace together. To be community.

Even in life, we all walk different paths, see things a little differently, stray away for a while, but come back together.

Blessings and Buen Camino!

The Same, But Different

Buen Camino! Day 2 of Walking

We’ve survived two days of walking and it is everything I thought it would be and surprisingly NOT what I thought it would be. How funny I was to think walking 5-6 miles at a time in flat Green Bay would prepare me for 17 miles through the foothills of the Pyrenees! LOL!

You plan and you speculate and you wonder, and then you do. And it is different. Doing is always different.

For example, I knew that this would be a time to disconnect from the internet. We’ve got Eric’s phone set up to take calls for emergencies, should our parents or Katie need to get in touch with us. We put minimal quantities of phone, text & data on the phone, and switched my phone and Rachel’s to airplane mode. Meaning we can do things with our phones when there is free wifi. But in reality, I had NO idea just how many times a day I pick up my phone. Let’s find that on google maps, whats the weather, let’s listen to pandora, what is that word in Spanish. This is a great pic, let me just text it to Katie, download something onto Facebook, tweet about it, send an instagram. My oh my, how instantly connected I am…WAS!

While I knew we would meet people along the way, walk together for a while, go our separate ways and come back again, that’s different, too. We might walk quite a while, just the three of us. Then someone comes along, we smile and say “Buen Camino!” and they hurry by. It’s AMAZING how quickly they come upon us and how quickly they are no longer in our existence. I wonder: where did they come from and where did they go? It baffles the mind how instantaneously they are gone! Are we really moving that slowly? It sure doesn’t feel like it.

And then there are the times when a small group might come along, and we can walk in a little cluster and carry on a conversation. It’s amazing how “Where are you from?” invites a conversation. And how much fun it is to hear the answer to that simple question. And what a small reunion it is to see a familiar face on the trail later. (How much more so when we’ve come and gone from each others’ lives for 6 weeks?)

And it’s interesting to me that everyone isn’t on the same journey. We talked to a Norwegian who started in France (couldn’t understand the city) and was traveling to Pamplona. And another lady from France (Melanie) who had started 3 months ago and was on a “reverse” journey doing the Camino Frances backward and not sure she wanted to go home. It’s funny because she said she didn’t like people, yet we had a wonderful conversation and she was very talkative, funny, engaging.

And the trail itself. It is what I had heard, read about, seen in the movie (If you haven’t watched The Way yet, it will help you understand what we are doing and I highly recommend it). But still very different. In two days it has led us through forests, along busy roads, up mountains, down mountains, over streams and bridges, along narrow trails with a steep drop off to our right. It has been cut through grass that grows as tall as my head. We’ve walked on concrete, rock beds, muddy paths, up and down stairs, over crushed rock. We wander along a trail with nothing but vegetation on each side and then suddenly pop out and we are in town.

And I would be lying if I said the walk wasn’t challenging. Only two days of walking and the leg muscles are sore. The bottoms of my feet are sore. And I don’t think I could ever had prepared for the ups and downs, the changes in terrain. My breathing gets heavy going up the hills. And down the hills are rough on the feet, ankles, knees.

But, surprisingly, what I thought would be the hardest part of the walk has been the easiest—hauling a backpack. We are so thankful to Patrick Toomey for telling us about ultralight backpacks. They are worth their weight in gold—which actually wouldn’t be much gold, because they are so light. But, they adjust easily and seem to sit well on all of our backs. But, I will say I walk a little more lightly when the pack comes off in the evening and we can wander the city unencumbered.

Cow Intestines?? (5/31/2016)

*** NOTE: For the more entertaining version of our Camino, follow Rachel’s blog at RAMills03.wordpress.com. For a more reflective version, follow Eric’s blog at sabbathcamino.weebly.com. Keep reading mine if you can stand the length and the details…or maybe skim it? ;)

It’s hard to know where to start in describing today, but it is well worth describing!

A good night’s sleep in a good bed does wonders for the soul. And we stayed in a wonderful hotel on the French side of the Pyrenees. If was a funny little place with floors that changed elevation from room to room, and where rolling a marble down the hallway could be a fun adventure. Rachel had a view to the mountains and we had a view to the city—both equally inviting. 

Camino Passports

We began our day by finding the place to get our official Camino passports that must be stamped along the way in order to get a certificate of completion at the end of the journey. And we picked up shells to add to our backpacks so that we are no longer incognito. We wandered the city of St Jean for a while, trying out our fully loaded backpacks, our walking legs, and our map skills. Mine are lacking, and I am no longer allowed to voice my opinion about our route! ;)

We hired a taxi to drive us over the Pyrenees and got a lovely, twisty, winding drive through the mountains that allowed us to enjoy the view and congratulate ourselves on our decision NOT to walk that leg.

We arrived in the city of Roncesvalles shortly after noon. And, when I say “city”, I grossly exaggerate! When I asked our taxi driver for a recommendation for a restaurant, we said, “I only know one there.” Turns out there might have been three… but the one he recommended was good…at least it ENDED good.

I love to travel, but we are picky eaters at best! Now, one of the MAJOR blessings of this journey is that Rachel (who is gluten intolerant) has discovered that she can eat bread here. (Something to do with the difference in the way Europeans process their wheat. We had been told this, but Rachel was hesitant to get her hopes up.) So, we’ve had several “risky” meals (but all with EXCELLENT bread!)

An appetizer of cow intestines

We come to the restaurant at Roncesvalles, and we want to have food, but we aren’t sure we understand the menu. Rachel speaks a bit of Spanish, but I miss her warning when the waiter suggests a shared appetizer. He highly recommends, so I accept. He walks away and Rachel says, “Mom, I think that’s cow intestines!” It was a soup, sort of thing that was rich in grease, and the pieces of meat were very strange in texture. And even though I wanted to be a good pilgrim and appreciate the food set before me, I just couldn’t. None of us could. But I was really hungry for something that would satisfy. 

Now, you have to have something good to drink with a meal, and I had recently discovered Sangria before our trip. Since that was on the menu, Rachel and I had to order some. Imagine our surprise when Alejandro pulled out a pitcher and began to mix our Sangria—a bottle of wine, sliced lemon, squeeze an orange, a shot of something from at least 3 bottles :0. And then he delivers it to us in a tumbler, like you’d serve a big iced tea or lemonade in! Delicious!

Alejandro was visibly saddened when we couldn’t eat the appetizer. We asked about the pilgrim menu, but he came back to tell us there was no grilled chicken, only pork. He brought out a full menu and began to offer ideas.

When all was said and done, we had a table full of food! First he brought 2 pasta plates (Eric and I shared one and couldn’t eat it all), then came two plates of chicken wings (delicious, but we are already stuffed!) and THEN comes the largest plate I’ve ever seen, piled high with potatoes topped with pork pieces and some sort of cream sauce. Fully embarrassed, not to mentioned stuffed, we did our best to eat all we could. And, of course, asked to take it to go. Which was enough to feed us dinner! And all the time, Alejandro is our patient, friendly and funny waiter.

As we end our meal, we do some quick math and figure that even if he charged us at the pilgrim menu price (which he shouldn’t) our bill should be at least 40 Euros. When I go to the bar to pay, he insists that Eric (the husband) must pay! And I ask to take his picture. He turns to the computer to ring our bill and quietly says to Eric: “20 Euro”. Eric tries to argue, but Alejandro insists, and won’t even accept a tip.

Alejandro and the fan (and the leftovers!)

He brings us BAGS of leftovers and asks to take a picture of all of us. Even turns to the nearby table to hand them the phone. :) He and Rachel exchange Facebook info and then he insists on coming outside to hug the Papa.

Blessings abound! And the Camino is just beginning! Tomorrow the challenge of walking begins with a 16 mile leg. Woo Hoo!

Blessings - Big & Small

If yesterday was a hurry up and wait day, today was not! At least not once we boarded our airplane. After learning that our flight was cancelled, we began to call to get arrangements switched. Our first call to Copenhagen (because we were flying SAS Airlines, which is Scandinavian), gave us a new flight out which would have left Monday evening at 10 p.m. Two days past our initial date. Another passenger suggested calling their Paris number since that was our flight destination. A good choice, because a very helpful man asked, “How soon do you want to leave?” (Bless him!) I said, “Well, we are at Chicago O’Hare already, so we are ready now!” That got us a 6 p.m flight non-stop to Paris. :)

After having spent roughly 28 hours in the Chicago airport, we were very excited when the plane arrived at the gate, the crew showed up, and we were finally asked to board.

Of course, we cleared TSA as early as we were allowed (12 hrs prior to take off) and zipped right through security. But we didn’t have seat assignments. Once we realized this, we went to the United desk to ask and they explained that the attendants at the gate for our flight were the only ones who could give us seats.

And of course, we arrived at our gate quite early, too. So early, in fact, that they were boarding the last of the passengers on a flight to Frankfurt. The lady working the gate for that flight struck up a conversation with us. She asked if we were waiting for that flight, and we said no and explained a bit about our situation and had a fun conversation. Then I asked if she could get our seat assignments or if we would have to wait for our crew to arrive. First, she said only they could make the assignments. Then she said, “Let me see something.” Then she stealthily threw us new boarding passes! :) Not only did she give us seats…together…but also the roomiest seats in the Economy section because they were the first row, right behind the bathrooms (a small blessing for me!) with plenty of leg room for Eric (a big blessing for him!).

And then our day of waiting ended! We had reservations on a train to St Jean Pied de Port that boarded at 12:25 p.m. And we were due to land in Paris at 9:30 a.m. And, we didn’t realize at the time…but the train station was on the other side of town. (See, if didn’t matter before because we were supposed to land on Sunday morning and catch the train on Monday. Plenty of time…) So, we grabbed our luggage, grabbed a taxi (with a driver who spoke NO English) and began our trek (with only a small question mark in our minds about whether we were indeed going where we needed to go). 

Eric and Rachel on the train from Paris to Bayonne

We arrived at the train station at 11:50 a.m., with just enough time to find the information desk and ask how to know what platform to depart from and grab a quick sandwich to take with us (but no water). We board the train and take a deep breath. We sat next to a lovely lady who gave me a small bottle of water! Needless to say, we ate and slept! But, as we near our stop, we hear people talking and realize our train is behind schedule. And we have a connection to make between Bayonne and St Jean Pied de Port. Suddenly, we begin to wonder if we will make our connection! What was scheduled to be 30 minutes to make our connection turned into getting off the train, finding the platform and watching the training we need pull up. By the time we put our heads to pillows on Monday night, we are back on schedule for our journey! Not without challenges, but full of blessings.

Train from Bayonne to St Jean Pied de Port

Here are a few that come to mind:

A lovely taxi driver who doesn’t speak English, but transfers us smoothly and calmly through heavy Paris traffic and refuses to take a tip.

A kind lady who shares her water on the train and refuses to accept my attempt to replace it.

A lovely little French woman who carried on a conversation with a group of people on the train. She wasn’t talking to our family, and none of us understood anything she said, but it was a joy to watch her talk. She smiled freely and her face lit up with her words. She got off the train just before our stop and stood on the platform and smiled and waved as our train pulled away. Not because she knew a single person on that train. She had been talking to Peregrinos (pilgrims on the Camino), but she had made a connection.

And then there was the blessing of arriving in St Jean Pied de Port. It’s hard to put into words. We sat on the train from Paris and noticed that a man across the aisle from us carried a backpack and there was a shell attached to it (the sign of the pilgrim). We had spotted our first Pilgrim! We were so excited!! But then, we got to our platform for the last leg of our journey from Bayonne to St Jean, and suddenly they were EVERYWHERE! A full train and the vast majority were hauling backpacks, dressed to walk, carrying pilgrim gear. We wonder where they all came from, how they converged on Bayonne. What an amazing site. That’s when it got real! We weren’t dressed like them (yet) and we weren’t hauling our backpacks like them (yet). But we WERE them!

I think there must be an analogy in there somewhere… I guess as Christians, we may think we are a dying breed. We see ones and twos. We see the obvious ones because they wear it like a Pilgrim shell (or a cross) on their backpacks (or around their necks). We might not see the ones traveling incognito. But, every so often, we see a group converge…and it is wonderful.