The thing about a Surrender Adventure is that you don’t get to pick and choose what you get to surrender to … it calls to the fore the whole shebang and you, must, flow. It’s like stepping off a ledge and no matter how gut-wrenchingly frightened you are, no matter how illogical trust may seem in that second, how insignificant your choice may seem to the big picture, how much you want to run to safety, to what you know, you free fall into the moment, the calling, the experience anyway and … with age and time and hopefully a wee bit of wisdom instilled along this Way, you learn …
No. Matter. What. You. Are. Okay.
And gosh darn it, more than okay; it all comes together for an even higher understanding and purpose than your fragile human self could even have imagined. And this, my friends, is precisely where the magic and miracles occur.
Don’t doubt it. Just still. Listen. And no matter where it leads, follow the voice within with thought and action. Trust me, actually trust you, in this truly simple act, you will be dazzled in retrospect with how considered, honoured, uplifted you were, as the divine, residing right within you and all around you, believes in your ability, your courage, your peace, your unshakable tranquilly, and empowers you to prove it to yourself. In this, you develop the stamina, the reverent recognition that you are truly capable of anything you imagine, and poised with a power indescribable, to achieve it.
In Sarria – Oh My Haven, My Heart Part 1, we entered the first village of adventure and wandered a bit (okay I hobbled, you walked in spirit). I left you at the tossing and turning in the eve when I came to the realization that I would not be trekking out with the other pilgrims hitting the way at crack of dawn.
It’s often in that sacred place between deep slumber and waking that the divine sneaks in, sorts the subtle tidbits of information revealed in our days and whispers ideas, answers to solutions, and insights for how to best navigate for rich and vibrant living in the hours ahead. So, I do my best to listen and remember.
Weeks before as I was researching El Camino, I’d read about companies that would transport backpacks from town to town. At the time I thought, “That’s great, but carrying is part of the experience, part of the challenging fun. I won’t need that.” (Wanna make God laugh, just be definitive in your plans.) As quickly as this solution dawned on me, I remembered it was off-season and services are scarce. I needed to know if this option could work. There was a little hope.
I woke and sent an email to the Oasis Albergue owner. In my restless and human worry I reached out and sent a message to Todd for a little reassurance, but with the world, particularly an ocean away, still asleep I felt eerily alone in all the silence. Strange for me. “Was I completely crazy to do this?” (I almost added ‘at my age’, but I had readily pushed this aside in so often feeling just shy of 40 in my spirit, but I’d heard it enough that it percolated below the surface.)
My Surrender Adventure lessons were juuuust beginning and in the next few hours it would all make perfect sense.
Oh, isn’t hindsight delightful?
Proper morning came, pilgrims stirred, and as I dragged my stiff and bent body out of bed, with no word yet from Cristina about a luggage service, I asked in broken Spanish, if the girls I was bunking with knew anything about it. This was my first real conversation with fellow travelers.
One from Italy with little English, the other two from Poland and one with enough that she could translate a bit, these women wrapped their compassion and warmth around me and I felt a healing begin even right then.
They shared what they knew of services, but the fact they didn’t have a solution didn’t matter, I’d joined the first community of kindred soul seekers that I would come to know along The Way.
As they readied to leave and I attempted to sit on the couch without grimacing, pleasantly distracted by their stories of where they were from, why they were travelling El Camino and where they’d begun, I started to feel a deep sadness creep in.
They were excitedly packing and would be off on this brilliant day of awesome trekking and I would sit, barely, right here and try to figure out what to do next. They wouldn’t have known that as we talked, and I was doing my best to be brave and, well yes, surrender.
But that isn’t always easy, is it my friends?
Little did I know, I was stuck right there for a reason.
The girls bid their farewells, and then I heard, in perfect English, “So, I overheard, you’re from Vancouver?”
This began one of the most soulful and kindred conversations I’ve ever had in my life and this is why the universe had to find a way to make me stay put.
Eric, from New York, a 26-year-old soul seeker, photographer by talent, Lulu Lemon worker to make money, and train (by walking at work 40 hours per week) for El Camino was a dear spirit.
He asked questions about my purpose for being there, my life, my work, my relationship with Todd and life with the boys. We spoke of listening to and trusting the voice within, and finding a way to live your passion and make money while doing it.
His eyes danced, he nodded and kept saying, “Everything you’re saying I always believed, I can’t believe I’m talking to you and hearing all this. Wow.”
We talked about relationships and the essential lessons he learned, and we all must, around letting even the good ones go when you don’t feel the connection and avoiding, next time, the bad ones you knew from the outset, while wildly fun, would devour you eventually.
We talked about family and those we loved with mental health issues and yet, those were the very people who somehow encouraged us to venture out, unafraid. (There is undoubtedly something far deeper here about the beauty of the mad-beautiful ones among us.)
My mother had encouraged my dream to move to Grand Cayman all those years ago, “No regrets Jenni, you want to live a life with no regrets.” She wanted me to hold dear to something she would not know. And Eric’s grandmother, the only one who didn’t let her fear for him outweigh her enthusiasm for his choice, and the wild unfolding of arriving to announce his trip to her, to catch a glimpse of a news clipping of the Church of Santiago. When he told her he was going to walk there, she wept with joy.
To top it all off, as we wrapped up this incredible conversation, he pulled out of his bag a parting gift, an ibuprofen (as all stores were closed on Sundays) and although I’m not one to take pills for pain, ohhh this was a treasure beyond measure.
We hugged good-bye. I took a moment to tell him what an extraordinary young man he is and felt a few parting words of encouragement flow forth.
I would come to learn throughout the months ahead, that this was a part of Our purpose on The Way …
to simply listen to these passionate young people just starting out in life,
to let them know they’re on the right track,
they’re not crazy for embarking on an adventure to find themselves,
the voice within is real,
to tell them how right they truly are to learn to listen and follow, and that …
the best is yet to be.
After 2 hours of chatting, Eric headed on his way. Cristina arrived to tell me, “You are not to worry. I’ve got a contact who will carry your backpack, and he speaks English, but for this part of the trip I’ll make all the arrangements.” She encouraged me to rest, sleep, heal. When I asked about places to see in Sarria, she circled it all on a map and directed me to some of the most wonderful experiences I’ve ever had.
But first, I had to take her initial advice. This would take drawing from all the dabbling I’d done over the course of a lifetime in natural healing techniques, and trust on a level I’d desired but never fully known.
You embody serendipity and I’ve seen it all through your travels and throughout our lives. Thank You J.
Awe my precious Todd, my best friend and fellow pilgrim … you’re the best bit of serendipity. I have become who I am because of our adventuring The Way together. 🙏🏼💜