Everyone Cries On The Camino
I lost my granny panties. If you think I just let it go, you’re wrong. Yesteday morning I went to get my clothes from where I had hung them to dry last night and my clothes had been moved and my granny panties were gone.
So far, I’ve lost underwear, laundry detergent, a hiking shirt, face wash, laundry soap, and yesterday I thought my mind might be the next to go.
I was out of the albergue by 7:30 and not so subtly sobbing by 7:45.
The sunrise was beautiful. I didn’t care. I was annoyed by the sound of pilgrims talking, annoyed that I lost my underwear, and annoyed that I was sweating in 40 degree weather. I was even annoyed that I was annoyed.
I walked alone for the morning until I ran into Sylvia and Judith, who I met at my albergue the first night in St. Jean Pier De Porte.
“You doing okay?” Sylvia asked.
“It’s okay, let it out” Judith said patting my arm.
“Everyone cries on the Camino” Sylvia said.
I don’t know what the tears were about exactly, though I am finding that the Camino seems to bring up that which you have shoved down.
I walked with Sylvia for a bit and we ran into Carl from Holland, who I had talked to the night before. He did the Camino Frances nine years ago and like many pilgrims, has completed many other routes.
“Emotions are just energy in motion. Problems arise when we don’t let them flow” he said.
I had heard that before, but welcomed the reminder.