“…as if my life lay not one side of your going or the other, but here in the pained and pilgrim present…” – David Whyte, Requiem from The Pilgrim

One week passes, then two. The Camino still occupies your daily thoughts, and you wonder how long it will last, and if you can bottle it up.

You fear losing its refining, its call to presence. You get on with your work and family and friends. You walk, but no one says, “Buen Camino” as they pass. Even the instinct to whisper it in your heart starts to fade.

One day, you decide to remove the bracelet that adorned your wrist for the past month, its shell a nod to a different way of being.

You are reminded that life is full of seasons. It can’t be Christmas year-round, though you crave its warmth and merriment. Instead, you bring those things with you when needed, but without the red and green wrapping, without tinsel or snowflakes.

You no longer need the physical reminder, because the Way implanted itself in your heart the moment you set foot on its path. You simply allow the revelation, with no to-do list or action plan. You just sit in silence and wait for the next calling, whatever (or wherever) that might be.

[Photo: Enjoying a quiet, solo morning in Madrid post Camino.]