Today as I walked the Camino during a magical stretch of the trail, the spirits took a hold of me and for the longest time held on to what seemed like my very soul. Soon, nothing but raw emotions began flowing out of me.
Picture someone grabbing a wet towel and then squeezing it for all it’s worth before hanging it out to dry. It felt like that, yet different.
The area I walked through must be a resting place for spirits of the Camino, the not yet departed. I don’t claim to possess or inherited any special powers yet, these words now flow out of me believing them.
As I walk picture everywhere littered tree roots that jut out of the ground and ready to take you down at any moment.
Perhaps a large part that makes this place special is the thousands of wood branch limbs adorning a farm like fence to my right as I walk ever so slightly uphill. Someone must’ve started the tradition ages ago, as all I continue to see as far as I walk are wind, rain, or snow weathered crosses.
And so I once again ask; why me, why do the spirits hang out here and am I the only one feeling their presence? Am I that vulnerable in mind and soul now? Only once before have I felt this way. It was when I knew I found the final resting place for my mothers ashes.
My thoughts at the time; and from the heart, she is thanking me one last time before her spirit finally departs to that special place where spirits go once they are ready.
I sit now on a medieval looking rock, stone and tree bench spot. The pelegrinos walk by me to either the next town or to a nearby albergue. Much the same way as I see the spirits moving.
Numerous Spanish local voices are all around including some buzzing bees nearby.
The days walk is possibly over for me now but, the next town is so close I believe I will stop there. Any master plan even if in only in my mind is to walk tonight as there is a full moon out. Spend the night at the Iron Cross and let any spirit reach me. Tonight I shall be a conduit for the spirits of the Camino.
My mind body and soul is prepared to receive a message, if any. And me, I am prepared to deliver my rock, one that I have carried from my moms homeland to here – the iron cross.
I may cherish this moment till my dying day. Such is the way of the camino in the past as it is in the present.