“It was rest then, felt as sheer readiness, and the place you went to find it, impossible to say, some artful way the body looks for just repose after days of walking…Your body dedicated to anticipation, and to going on, as if the way ahead had already been made for your feet…” – David Whyte, Pilgrim

The days run into each other, though you are never entering the same place twice. In fact, there’s a sadness when you leave a town, knowing you’ll never return unless you take up the call of the Camino again someday. Instead, you quickly move on, anticipating the next, new place.

Maybe the day will offer a different view, fewer hills, and more shade, if you’re lucky. The repetition keeps you moving forward while time loses its meaning, and you start to wonder if it ever had any to begin with.

Each night, there is nervous excitement for the day ahead. How many kilometers? How does my body feel tonight? How will it fare tomorrow? Sometimes, the thing you used to heal one ache causes another. Sometimes, it allows you to go on. Sweat and soreness, happy hearts and tired minds.

The Camino rarely brings you one thing at a time. It forces you to confront the complexity of the “both/and.” And in the end, you start to see that the road is not black or white, but shades of grey.

After all, the Camino is the great equalizer. No matter where you’re from or who you are, the Way welcomes you, while it erases all else. The outside world, with its rules and norms, is made obsolete.

The only thing that matters is your open heart and the will to walk another day.