I woke up early this morning, ready to begin the long ascent up to Cruz Ferro.
I knew it was going to be a long, rigorous walk, so I layered up and stuffed two of my six remaining PowerBars into Pilgrim, just to be prepared for what lay ahead. I then packed up Cheater and headed down to the first floor. I managed to get Cheater down to the second floor when an Argentinean biker saw me struggling, so he took him from me and carried him down. It was a good start to the day.
After a quick breakfast of coffee and toast and a glass of fresh orange juice, I asked for a stamp for my passport and went back up to my room to grab my poles, Gumby, and Pilgrim. I then pulled on my wool cap and gloves, pulled my headscarf over my ears, and stepped out into a stiff, frigid wind under dark, cold skies. I was ready to go.
Holy Mother God,
Please let me release all my burdens at the top. Even the ones I still want to hold on to.
Amen, and thank you in advance.
The steep walk challenged my knee from the first step, but I just kept going. As I climbed, one slow step at a time, I reflected once again on just exactly what was burdening me, as I really wanted to be sure I didn’t forget something. I had come too far on this pilgrimage to miss the opportunity before me.
The top notes of my thoughts cited the usual complaints: too much work, responsibility for what was not mine, years of what I felt were unfair experiences, not feeling loved and appreciated as I had wanted to be. It was nothing new.
Yet, the more I walked, the more apparent it became to me that while those were things that made me unhappy, they were not at the root of what burdened me.
What burdened me most had been my own fear and anger, even rage over these things and more. I’d been burdened by not trusting others to be good to me. I’d been burdened by the belief that I could trust only myself to be responsible and then made choices to support that belief. I’d been burdened by the false belief that I had to work and never stop because I was taught that working hard is what love looks like. I was burdened by the belief that I had no right to the full range of my feelings or to healthy boundaries. I was burdened with resentment and bitterness over things past. These were the real burdens in my life and what I wanted to unload from my heart. It wasn’t what had happened, or who made it happen, that burdened me. It was my own emotional confusion and lack of forgiveness toward all that pained me, which weighed so heavily on my heart and kept me from being happy and peaceful today.
The climb was intense, and I was shocked at how cold it was outside. But I didn’t mind. After a few hours I came across a small café and decided to stop and warm up. My fingers were freezing and I was getting very hungry, my breakfast longed ago burned off.
When I stepped inside, I was surprised to see so many familiar pilgrims standing around a roaring fire in the fireplace in the middle of a large room. Clint and Dean were there. So were Hans and Peter, and Linda. I also saw Victoria from last night, but I didn’t see her son, Eric, anywhere. I asked about him and she rolled her eyes.
“I left him behind this morning,” she said. “I had to. We have been fighting since we started the Camino. In fact, I think that is what I am here to unburden myself from today. His control and neediness are strangling me. I needed to get away, so I told him I would meet him in Santiago if he makes it.”
I applauded her decision and wished her a “Buen Camino” as she stepped past me and out into the cold once again. I looked around before I sat down. It was an old hippie establishment, complete with peace signs, incense, and tons of Camino T-shirts and memorabilia for sale—all of which I wanted. But I knew that I couldn’t take this experience with me, so I didn’t buy any of it. Then my eye was caught by a small deck of cards called The Way, made up of insights from previous pilgrims who had walked to Santiago, offering advice from the Camino for the journey through life. I pulled a card from the deck. It said, “Don’t fear the criticisms of others.”
That piece of advice made me think. I have been severely criticized all my life for being intuitive and making it my vocation. I have been criticized for being an outspoken and strong woman, accused of not being feminine enough. I have been criticized for being playful when I taught my workshops, told I was not worth being taken seriously. For most of my life, I was criticized just for being me, and while it hurt me, it didn’t stop me. Rather than collapse under all that criticism, I just fought back. Now, I didn’t even want to do that. I just wanted to ignore the criticisms of those who didn’t like me, or approve of me, or “get” me and carry on in peace. That would be wonderful. That was what I would pray for today.
After drinking a cup of hot chocolate and eating my last PowerBar of the day, I put my gloves and hat back on, reached for Pilgrim and my poles, pulled my poncho back over my head, and headed out. I was being called to the top.
Today marked a turning point in my pilgrimage. For over three weeks now, my walking had dredged up the deepest wounds from my past and shaken them free from both my psyche and my bones, along with the long-held pain, sorrow, and grief that they had trapped in my body. Today was my opportunity to release all of it, from my body and from my life. This was the day to leave the past behind and open my heart to living fully and freely in the present.
The fog became thicker once I was back on the path, the cold intensifying along with it. I finally reached the summit, and through the fog I could barely make out the huge iron cross that stood at the top of the mountain. But it was there. I had arrived at Cruz Ferro, the place to unburden myself and ask for forgiveness.
Approaching the cross, I was taken aback by the massive amount of small stones and talismans, prayers and pleas, piled high all around it. It was surreal to see the world’s prayers and pain all symbolically left behind in these offerings. There were photos, teddy bears, letters, little shrines made of stacked stones, shoes, rosaries, and more, each item representing someone’s heartache.
Looking at everything reminded me of how painful the human experience is and how we, as humans, cannot avoid this pain. There is no way around the human condition. We can only experience it as bravely as possible.
We cannot feel love unless we open our hearts, and yet, when we do open them, they can and do get broken. It just works that way. If we close our hearts off, however, as a means of protecting ourselves, and cover them over with anger and rage, we break our hearts from the inside. If we look to others to give us the love we are not giving ourselves, we become frustrated and disappointed and often feel rejected, creating even deeper wounds than before.
Only when we love ourselves fully and forgive all the people and experiences that have caused us pain, both inside and out, can we truly heal and find inner peace. There is no other way. We cannot avoid the pain of life, no matter how spiritually awakened we are. Life involves loss. It is impermanent and messy and causes suffering. Only when we feel our pain, feel our losses, and allow our feelings to move through us, and then onward, are we able to heal and live as fully empowered beings in the moment.
Looking at the mountain of grief left behind by so many others, I realized I had no need to feel ashamed for hurting. I had no need to feel like a failure because I got angry and scared. As spiritually conscious as I was, I was still human, and still had to experience loss and suffering like everyone else.
It was not allowing myself to freely feel my losses that caused me to get stuck. It was denying my pain over and over again that made it explode. In walking the Camino I had now felt it all, and because of that, my pain was moving on. It wasn’t stuck inside me any longer. I could honestly say I was leaving my pain and my karma behind, while at the same time, as I walked, they were also leaving me. We were done.
I placed my huge rock on the pile and thanked all the people who had touched my soul, now and in lives past, for the lessons and the love they brought me. I released my rage, my hurt, my emotional pain, and underneath it all, my fear, and asked for and offered forgiveness for everything in my past. The minute I placed my rock at the foot of the cross, I could feel my last bits of pain tumble out of me and onto the ground. All that was left in its place was gratitude.
Just before I left, I took Gumby from my pocket and sat him on the rocks. He had been a good touchstone for me, helping to keep my spirits up and my humor alive when all I felt was lost. I took a few pictures of the two of us together so that I could leave everything behind with a smile. I then got on my knees and prayed for everyone in my life, thanking their spirits for their contribution to my human experience. I stayed a few minutes longer, but it was bitter cold and I felt there was no need to linger. I picked up Gumby, put him in my pocket, and got ready to go. It took a moment or two to find the path in the fog, but I did and slowly began the steep descent.
As I started down, the icy wind blew in my face with such relentless ferocity that it felt personal. And yet, rather than fight it, I let it scour off the remaining barnacles of hurtful beliefs and behaviors that I still subconsciously clung to.
“Go ahead!” I screamed to the spirit of the wind. “Do your work. Blow it all away.”
I felt as though I were being bathed in pure love. In spite of the cold, a gentle, warm energy was now touching those deep places of hidden sadness and terror in my heart that for so long had held on to the harsh and frightening experiences from my past, both in this life and long before. I was healing.
The cold was refreshing. The flowers along the side of the path were magical. My heart was becoming free of some old and very ugly and painful stuck energy. I finally descended below the cold and fog and emerged into a vast mountain valley. It was incredible. The past was behind me. I was now free.