I’ve
been thinking a lot about what I’ve shared in the last couple of posts. To be blunt, it was a bit daunting to put
down in writing what has been rattling around in my head for the past several
months. I was a bit surprised when I
went back a few days later and re-read what I’d shared. In total defiance of my expectations, I
didn’t sound crazy. Perhaps that’s the
craziest thing of all.
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| Camino photo by Bill Bennett. Used with permission. |
I
promised that I would try to explain this strange transformation I seem to be
going through, and I intend to do my best to honor that promise. My motivations are rather selfish: I’d actually love to understand the mechanics
of this metamorphosis. I’m fascinated by
the fact that my scaredy-cat, homebody, adventure-resistant self is planning to
walk across a country I’ve never visited.
Hopefully, in attempting to help you understand, I’ll start to
understand it myself.
I’ve
been playing detective, sorting through the physical evidence. There isn’t much to go on. My first instinct was to go back to my own
writing, to explore the pages of my personal journal. That would have been an excellent source, IF
I had been writing. Unfortunately, there
wasn’t much there. Prior to the entry
that became the “Evolution, Rebirth & Rebranding” post, I hadn’t written a
single word since August of 2016. The
entry immediately before that was penned (keyboarded, actually) in February
2015. Wow. It’s no wonder I’d quit describing myself as
a writer. I read the journal entries,
hoping for some insight. I was restless,
and that was confusing given the fact that our lives have been pretty good
since moving to Santa Fe. But the
Camino? Not even on the radar. I didn’t even write about how much I’d been
walking.
My
next attempt yielded better results. I
figured that if there were no clues to be found in what I was writing, perhaps
what I’d been reading would offer better insight. Those of you who knew me when I was younger
might think that this would be a monumental task, as I always had a book in my
hand. Strangely, that hasn’t been the
case in recent years. Over the past few
years, I’ve only read a fraction of what I used to. The five books in the Song of Ice and Fire series by George R.R. Martin, The Martian by Andy Weir, several books
in the Agent Pendergrast series by Douglas Preston and Lincoln Child, The Circle by Dave Eggers, The Slacker Pilgrim Guide to the Camino De
Santiago by Sunshine Jen… Ah
hah! Aside from the obvious evidence in
the title, that was Non-Fiction! I don’t read non-fiction! It bores me.
I want a good story, not real life.
Obviously, I’d found the smoking gun.
One
problem. I read The Slacker Pilgrim Guide back in August of 2015. Three years ago. And after that… nothing. No more Camino books. No obsessive talk of the Camino. No meaningful search for Camino images, or
efforts to meet people who’d actually walked the Camino. Not even any attempts to learn about Spain. Why would I want to learn about Spain? I live in New Mexico, which is like Spain,
but better, because we have green chile.
So
much for that theory. I was left with
attempting to reconstruct timelines in my head.
I’ve already told you how reliable my memory is (NOT!), but it’s all I
had to go on. Fortunately, it was
enough.
As
a general rule, I tend to be annoyingly pragmatic. When my wife, who has a gypsy spirit,
suggests a change of career, or a move to a new town, or a weekend trip, I
always want to know how it’s going to work. I want to understand all the logistics, the
finances, how every little detail will work – in short, I can be a real bore. I know it aggravates my wife, who is a much freer
spirit.
In
hindsight, I believe that I never gave any serious consideration to the Camino
because it was completely impractical. I
simply could not comprehend how I could fit it into my life. I don’t have that kind of vacation time, I
don’t have a passport, I don’t have enough money to get there, I can’t justify
taking that kind of time and spending that much money for something so selfish,
I’m getting too old, I’m too overweight, I have that spot in the bottom of my
right foot that gets crunchy sometimes… and so on. As I said, I can be a real bore.
Fortunately,
I don’t think it’s up to me.
Sometime
in his freshman year of high school, Gideon (my youngest son) set his sights on
attending the Berklee College of Music in Boston. Aside from being an excellent choice given
his planned profession, it offered the added enticement of allowing him to
study abroad for a year at their sister campus.
The sister campus is in Valencia, which just happens to be in… Spain.
This
was interesting, and it gave Gideon a good reason to take a third year of
Spanish, but it wasn’t really relevant to me, unless you count the vague sense
of jealousy I felt in my gut when he’d talk about spending his sophomore year
of college in Valencia.
And
then, around six months or so ago, Melanie laughingly suggested that it might
be fun for her to teach at the university level in Spain during that same year. Sure, I said.
Look into that. What could it
hurt?
Hmm. If we were in Spain, then suddenly the
obstacles between me and the Camino become far less substantial. I can’t pin down a date, but sometime between
February and April of this year, my mind stopped classifying the Camino as “Impractical”
and moved it to the file labeled “Theoretically Possible.”
Re-classifying
the Camino proved to be a first step onto a silky-smooth, deceptively slippery
slope. I found myself thinking about the
Camino as I walked to work. I’d find
myself contemplating the fact that although I walk on some of the oldest roads
in our country, these trails are mere babes compared to the Camino. As I walked past the oldest church in the US,
San Miguel Mission, I ran my hands over the stones of its foundation and reflected
on how new they were, compared to so many of the churches on the Camino
Frances. To be completely honest, it
became rather aggravating. The Camino
became the equivalent of a song I couldn’t get out of my head.
Many
years ago, I learned that the best way for me to expel a song from my head is to actually
listen to it, hitting “repeat” until the desire to hear it has been
purged. It seemed reasonable to think
that my thoughts of the Camino might work the same way, so I watched “The Way”
again. As I watched the opening credits,
I noticed something that I’d overlooked before:
Story by Emilio Estevez, and selected
stories from “Off the Road: A Modern-Day Walk Down the Pilgrim’s Route into
Spain” by Jack Hitt. Apparently, the
movie was based, in part, on a book.
Now,
it may be literary snobbery on my part, but in my experience the book is almost
always better than the movie. I
downloaded the book onto my iPad the next day, and read it in spare moments
over the next week or so. (Editorial
note: This book was another work of non-fiction. I don’t read non-fiction.) The book wasn’t bad. I’m not sure it was better than the movie,
but I enjoyed it. It didn’t really motivate
me to go walk the Camino, though. For
the next several days, I don’t think the Camino crossed my mind at all. I’d expelled it from my head, just like a
catchy Taylor Swift song.
Little
did I know that I’d slid another fifty feet or so down that slippery slope.
I
blame it on the evil marketing masterminds at Amazon. A week or so after finishing the book, I was
browsing their website, killing time before going in to work. There, at the bottom of the page, is an
insidious little ribbon titled Related to Items You’ve Viewed. For me, this is a perilous place to explore,
as it is chock-full of stuff that I’m really tempted to buy. Since I’d bought Off the Road so recently, it
was well-populated with downloadable books about the Camino. Titles like Steps out of Time, Slow Camino, An Awakening Walk, and A Million Steps. They all sounded very serious. I really wasn’t interested.
I
almost escaped. I was that close to leaving the page when a
book cover caught my eye. (Curse those artistically
appealing covers.) The Way, My Way, by Bill Bennett.
After all those other titles, this one seemed almost irreverent. This may reflect poorly on my state as a
spiritual being, but I’m pretty sure that perceived irreverence is what convinced me to
click the link.
Here’s
what I read on the book’s Amazon page: “I’d never done anything crazy like this
before – a pilgrimage walk. I was not a hiker, and I wasn’t a Catholic. In
fact, I wasn’t even sure I was a Christian. On the last government census when
I had to state my religion, I'd said I was a Buddhist, mainly because they’ve
had such a hard time in Tibet I felt they needed my statistical support.” I had no idea who Bill Bennett was, but I
liked him immediately.
Did
I mention that Amazon lets you read the first 30 pages or so for free? As I said, they employ evil marketing
masterminds.
I
downloaded the free sample. Those free
pages passed effortlessly. I think bait
is meant to work that way. It’s
delicious, irresistible, actually, and it goes down SO easy… and the hook is
set. I bought the book without hesitation,
and with every page, I slid another hundred yards or so down that proverbial
slippery slope.
The Way, My Way was actually really
enjoyable. “Written in a laid-back, natural style, Bill's story is very
relatable, and his sense of humor is hard to resist. Best of all, Bill Bennett
doesn't try to gloss over his human shortcomings, nor does he seem inclined to
exaggerate his triumphs.” I actually
said that, in a review of the book that I wrote for Amazon. That’s NOT something I do! I don’t write reviews, I don’t read non-fiction,
and I don’t, under any circumstances, go on adventures!
I
bought The Way, My Way in late May Sometime in early June, I started noticing a
change in my walks. I had become more
aware. I was attentive to the rhythm of
my stride, of how I placed my feet. I was
aware of how my favorite boots would start to rub after the first few miles,
how my jeans chafed against my skin by the end of the walk. I started walking further, walking just for
the sake of walking every chance I got. I’d take my iPod,
but forget to take it out of my pack, because I was content to listen to the
sound of my feet on the trail and the wind in the trees. I switched the unit of measurement in my
fitness tracker from miles to kilometers.
Most of these changes occurred without any conscious thought on my part,
but then, on a walk one morning six weeks or so ago, I caught myself thinking, I have to get more serious about this. I have to train harder.
Excuse
me? Train for what?!?
In
that moment, I think I quit sliding down the slippery slope and plunged
headlong into the abyss. Something
inside had shifted, and I’d quit thinking
about the Camino, and started preparing
for it. That was definitely a “whoa”
moment, because there was a stranger looking back at me from within. A potentially better version of myself. I’m still not sure if he’s someone who goes
on adventures, but he may well be someone who goes on a journey.
I’ll
share more soon. I have a working theory
on how this connects to my creativity, and to yours. I also have some very cool stories to tell you!
