After sleeping on it, I’ve come to the conclusion that the Camino de Santiago is much like any other journey. That is, the destination is only necessary as a point to affix your eyes and set in motion your soul… but the journey to reach that point is the reason itself for walking.
I think it’s best explained as an oreo cookie. The part in the middle is always the richest, the two ends are sweet ways to get the middle to your taste buds… but we eat them to get to the middle.
The smell of pilgrim still grips my clothes and body, we wonder if we get to keep that familiar funk. Is that how we bring home the Camino? I shaved my playoff beard which has now been replaced with the smoothest, cleanest man face I’ve seen in the mirror for months. I’m not sure I’ll miss walking each day, but I do feel like an episode of my life has faded to black. All I know is that my feet need to feel good so I can run with the bulls on Friday morning … wish me luck.