Whispers from the Camino—Day 27
October 1. Rabanal to Molinaseca. 24.5 km
Sunrise outside Rabanal
I awoke early in Rabanal and was excited to get onto the trail early again. The albergue had yogurt, muffins, eggs, juice and coffee out in a small dining room so pilgrims could get a quick breakfast and get on the trail at a time of their choosing. I quickly ate a small breakfast, organized my pack and set off in the dark. This had become my daily ritual and favorite part of the day. It was quiet. Usually I only encountered a couple other pilgrims also on the trail. And best of all, my mind seemed the clearest and my soul most grounded in those dark early morning hours.
Orion’s Belt in the early morning
This morning felt especially holy. The constellation, Orion’s Belt, was still shining bright in the sky and the sunrise displayed a fiery orange ribbon over the horizon. Beyond the beauty I also was in a really good place emotionally. The last couple of days meeting Ramona and then being reminded of the conversation I had months before about the MacArthur Fellowship put me a place of trust. I didn’t know what was ahead of me, but If felt I could trust it.
As I pondered my walk on the Camino, the recent years of my work in the church, the impact of COVID on my life and the journey of grief associated with those experiences I suddenly felt prompted to write a very quick Facebook post attached to the picture of the chapel I sat in the night before:
Something about sitting in these ancient historical sacred spaces and being among people who live in countries which have seen it all left me with this one clear insight this morning as I was walking, ‘America’s inability and unwillingness to grieve is killing us.’
Not thirty minutes later I came upon the Cruz de Ferro (Iron Cross), an almost obligatory stopping point on the Camino. Many pilgrims carried rocks or some other memento to lay at the foot of the cross—symbols of burdens that all of us carry through life. I had decided not to carry a rock mostly because I wasn’t sure what I would need to unburden myself from. It would appear somewhere on the Camino, I believed.
The appearance of the Cruz de Ferro took me by surprise. Even though I could have checked my Wise Pilgrim Camino app my preference was to just follow the trail and discover what it had to show me and teach as I went along. But the cross hit me like a sudden gust of wind. I had just named the fact that we Americans don’t grieve well when the actual symbol of this cross that shouted “Feel free to lay your burdens down here” demanded every pilgrim’s attention.
I took a few minutes before the cross and pondered, “What do I need to unburden myself from? What is holding me back? What in my life or character needs some self-forgiveness?” The answer came to me almost immediately. It was the same thing that I had already been letting go in recent days. I just needed to actually capture it with a small ritual. I took a piece of paper from my journal and wrote the words, “Goodbye resentment and anger. I no longer need you. Buen Camino.”
I tore the sheet from my notebook, took it up to the cross and laid down among the thousands of other offerings. As I walked off the rocky mound my body began shaking and an unexpected sob wracked my body. I balanced myself on a post while a kind Italian man made his way over to me to make sure I was okay. Of course, I was more than okay. I had probably been holding that stew of grief, anger and resentment and the Cruz de Ferro had finally broken through my psychic dam.
That night in Molinaseca I enjoyed a marvelous fruit salad out on the patio overlooking the stream. Dozens of pilgrims and locals were buzzing with energy and conversation around tables. After a leisurely afternoon and evening, I secured a private room and slept deeply.
More photos of the day:
Challenging terrain heading into Molinaseca
Heading down the hill to Molinaseca for the night
My usual after walk meal hydrating and replenishing nutrients