Epiphanies
From Burgo to Sigras Anceis
“Go the extra mile. It’s never crowded.”
Today’s walk began where I left off in Burgo - aka Do Burgo and O Burgo. They seemed to be used interchangeably.
I’d heard about the heavy traffic and industrial areas and prepared for that on my qualifying kilometers at home. Still, it isn’t pleasant. It’s a sensory jolt, even with earplugs. I was the only pilgrim on the stretch and felt, admittedly, somewhat vulnerable. I mindfully turned to my sense of curiosity. I focussed on appreciating the oldest of buildings, the extra markers people had painted to guide the way. I loved the curved bends and the candles left by crosses and shrines that left me wondering who had lit them and if their prayers were answered.
I had an epiphany of sorts as I walked from rural road to highway, from tranquility to noise. After a pitstop, I looked back toward the peaceful path I’d covered, then at the busy street, gas station, and honking horns. There was no avoiding the tension of it. But I knew in my gut there would be beauty ahead to balance out the drudgery - and how like life that is. I could grumble about the noise - about our massive footprints on the planet - or trust that the Way would provide what I needed - be it well-marked routes, lessons, and beauty. Like the hydrangeas that grew wild here along with foxgloves. I have foxgloves in my garden at home and knew I would look differently at them on my return because of their wildness here.
I’d been forewarned about the long five-kilometer uphill stretch into Sigras on PilgrimageTraveler.com - a very informative site - so I dreaded that part but succeeded to take it in stride. The photo-rich travelog on the site had very thorough directions, maps, and elevation graphs, as well as lots of information on the Camino Ingles if you’re looking for help in planning your pilgrimage. It helped me to plan mine. Check it out at: https://www.pilgrimagetraveler.com/camino-ingles.html
The cruceiro at Igrexa de Santiago de Sigrás
A cruceiro is a large devotional cross, a monument of faith, often with a tiered pedestal where pilgrims can kneel to pray. What distinguishes it from a typical crucifix is that one side of the cross has Christ crucified, but on the other side is Mary. Sometimes she’s standing in witness, other times she is holding her son’s broken body as in Michaelangelos’ Pieta. This stop was pivotal for me, the rest of my journey, and for Wayward. It was my “Come to Jesus Mary moment,” that had me fall on my knees and weep. This scene would become a catalyst for Farren to express her own grief, or for Dora to share about her mother who had been engrossed in Marian Studies and almost became a nun.
One pilgrim that I met later, in Poio asked me why Mary was on some of the cruceiros. “She is revered,” I suggested. Not only was she the first believer, Christ’s mother, and a witness, but in her suffering, she was crucified with him. We suffer with and for our loved ones. Gazing up at her, in Sigrás, I’d finally realized the full weight my journey through my brother’s years of homelessness and mental health and addiction was having on me and I could relate to Mary’s loss on a more personal level. It’s like I time-traveled back to my childhood when I drew her in nativity scenes and had the first prompting that, when I grew up, I wanted to be a mom - not even considering how much worry and pain would be entwined with the joy.
Later, when I arrived in Santiago, I bought a small, silver cruceiro to remind me how universal my suffering was, that I wasn’t alone, and that - like Mary - I would find the strength to carry on.
And carry on, I did. Even though it wasn’t far, it was a powerful experience to exceed my expectations despite my limitations. Anceis was a beautiful place to end my pilgrimage for the day and a new scene in Wayward came out of it - the rather humourous cool-down at the fountain. It felt like a reward for going that extra mile.
Where do you find consolation in your suffering?
How does that come through in your writing?
Where have you gone that extra mile?
Ultreia! - Forward, together!
