The Final Stage
“…solvitur ambulando… Latin - “It is solved by walking” —Saint Augustine
Great quote, but notice that it doesn’t say “it is solved by walking faster.” I didn’t set out to complete my Camino that day. I was driven by the anticipation of arriving in Santiago de Compostella. I push through so I could experience the pilgrimage of pain I’d had the day before, perhaps more so because of doubling my terrain the day before. I’d even earned a Camino blister. I wish I’d savoured the scenery - it was so lovely. Why do we do that, on foot or on a road trip - push on rather than live in the moment? We rush through life, consuming experiences - binging even - rather than fully unpacking and appreciating them. Why don’t we linger?
We often do that with the first drafts of our writing, don’t we? We rush from the first word to the last, from FADE IN to FADE OUT or The End. Even when we know it will mean more editing later. If we were more mindful of our pilgrimage of the pen, perhaps we’d go deeper into story - go richer, funnier, or more conflicted with the plot or characters. On the Camino, I worried that if I slowed down or stopped, I might become more aware of the aches and pains. I think that applies to writing as well - on an emotional level. All that aside - advice to pilgrims on this stretch of the Camino Ingles: linger.
You may have noticed other waymarkers in the photos I’ve posted - some with rocks, flowers, and mementos on top of them, leaving something of yourself and the journey behind. An “I was here” moment. The Camino is about letting go of burdens as much as it is about finding your way, or a better way, a lighter one. The big rock that was left on this waymarker gave me pause. I laughed at first. And then I thought of the pilgrim who placed it there and what might have been on their mind and heart. WWFD? “What would Farren do?”- the lead in my screenplay Wayward. Or Dora, or Liam. And why?
I wish I’d taken a bit more time to walk through the outskirts of the city as well. Our lives can be messy, and our stories, too. Contrast builds tension in life and on the page. And the appreciation muscle. That held true for my bladder, too, after the extra kilometers and negligible signage. I was never happier to see the symbolic golden arches than I was here.
From there I could slow my pace, let the anticipation build, and thoroughly enjoy my first glimpse of the Cathedral. It drew me to her, like a loving parent waiting to welcome their child home. I picked up my pace and felt a smile blossom from my heart to my face.
