Entry
52, January 15th,
2012
New
day, new fear to overcome.
I
am afraid that I will relapse and forget everything that I learned
from the camino. That I will settle back into the old grooves and
loose the calm, happy, strong feeling I have had for the past several
weeks.
I
woke up wanting to check my email. A compulsion. It is a way of
avoiding life, just like overeating or whatever other habits we have.
There is no need to check my email more than once a day, or at all
as the past 50 days have shown.
And
the solution is not rigid self-discipline. It is not a strict
anti-internet regime. What is is instead is asking what I am trying
to avoid. It is remaining present in the moment. Internet is food
for the mind – and so I must ask my mind just as I ask my body:
“What do you need? I will give you what you need, but I will do it
while remaining present in the moment and without using it to escape
reality.”
Because
there is a lot to do in the moment! I don't want to miss anything,
or spend my time asleep. This is the heart of my second lesson from
the camino – be present in and content with the present instead of
living in the future or the past.
So
I don't want to backslide, and the meaningful path is the path of
action. In the last notebook I wrote a few lists, but they were not
the right lists. What I need is a list of my dreams. So, I will
spend today filling the next two pages with dreams. Whether or not I
am happy is a function of how I achieve those dreams.
Expenses,
Day 52
Breakfast:
2.50
Tea
at Cafe Casino: 2.40
Postcards
+ Ornament: 3.35
Internet:
2.50
Total:
10.75
Trip
Total: 1193.90
We
said goodbye to the Master after tea at Cafe Casino. Last I saw him
he had just followed the first yellow arrow away from the cathedral
plaza. A strong, faithful man. Suerte, amigo.
Wan
Woo had stayed in a Korean hostal in Paris for one night. While he
was there, he heard of a hotel in Santiago that feed breakfast,
lunch, or dinner to the first ten pilgrims who show up. It's the old
pilgrim hospital, founded by Queen Isabella, and so they maintain the
tradition.
Which
is how I found myself standing in a parking garage in Santiago with
Won Woo, Kwang-sik, two Frenchmen who just finished the Camino
Portuguese from Lisbon, and two more Koreans who walked from St. Jean
Pied-de-Port for their honeymoon. Sure enough, at noon a smiling
doorman walked in out of the rain, took a quick headcount, and gave
us directions and a slip of paper.
The
hospital looks out over the cathedral plaza and has been turned into
a five star hotel and conference center. True to their original
purpose, though, they continue feeding the first ten pilgrims for
free. This is typical of the camino – an opportunity for great
food, transmitted only by word of mouth. Just like the arrows, it
is amazing what you see when you know what to look for.
The
hospital was established by Ferdinand and Isabella in 1501 after they
made the pilgrimage to Santiago and discovered the insufficient
facilities there. It was totally autonomous, run by an administrator
who answered only to the king and the pope. It has a central chapel
and four courtyards, each named for one of the gospels.
Later
I'm
back at the cathedral again, nestled up to one of the pillars like to
a tree in a field. It is amazing how much easier a music is to
understand when you hear it made in the place it belongs – just as
organ music is perfect for cathedrals, Austria is perfect for
Beethoven, and Baker's Keyboard Lounge is perfect for bebop.
The
profile of the pillars alternates front to back. There are two
designs: (see notebook). Pretty clear what the theme is.
What
the cathedral here is, is the oldest one I've seen. The relics of
Santiago were buried here in 44AD. They lay hidden until the 900's,
when they were discovered. The cathedral is almost 800 years old.
Romanesque in style, the building houses a huge golden platform and
canopy over the altar and main chapel, in the highest baroque style.
A huge incense burner swings over the altar and up towards either end
of the short arms of the floorplan. It is called a Botafumiero and
was originally installed to counteract the stench of sweaty massed
pilgrims. From what I know of pilgrims, this is something still necessary in summer months.
A
long iron container on one of the pillars is traditionally known to
hold Santiago's staff. I like the cathedral more now than I did at
first. The front facade is a massive stepped affair, like the
ziggurauts or Machu Pichu. The stone is in about the same condition.
It is a friendly cathedral, having welcomed millions of pilgrims.
Daniel smiles from the facade. I wonder how many feet it takes to
wear the stone steps up to the image of St. James so deeply.
It
is traditional to climb the stairs and embrace the image. I have him
a good hug this time, today, as I felt so happy and open.
This morning I was worried that I would lose the camino in my heart. Now, after revisiting the cathedral, I am not worried. For one thing, the camino never really ends. I will be a pilgrim the rest of my life. And second, after experiencing such great joy as when I arrived in Santiago, that part of me is changed. That joy will remain with me always, and it can come back whenever I let it.
Wandering
the cathedral today, I realized that there are layers of history and
subtlety here that I have only begun to absorb. I have introduced
something ancient and powerful into my self without really knowing
what the consequences will be. Unseen to my inner eye; great changes
have taken place beneath the surface. I have only just begun to find
out what those changes are. I feel powerful but in a state of flux.
Everything inside is unpinned and sorting itself out. I had no idea
how powerful the camino was while I was walking it. In fact, in a
lot of ways I can barely believe that I did.
Maybe
that's what this flux is. The shock of putting on my own life again
after stepping out of it for so long.
But
why step into it again? No need to. There is so much to think about
on the way to Finisterra.
Other
pilgrims were coming into the cathedral today, footsore and limping.
I feel like a grizzled, tough veteran. The Camino Frances is just
long enough to really break you down – my extra time has left me
tough. My calves feel like steel and I have the ass of a Greek god.
Later
That's
what it is. I feel empty. Like a white orb. I have done this and
that and the other thing but now I feel totally empty and void of
form. Naked is a better word. I exist only as potential, not as
kinetic energy. A stone balanced atop a hill; which way will I roll?
Tomorrow
feels like I am starting the Camino over from Day 1. Like I feel
like taking a little walk to clear my mind. Except now, my mind is a
clear void already – I walk to enjoy, and to play with some
structures before letting them fall back into blank white potential.
That
is keeping the Camino in my heart. Remaining empty, accepting of
whatever may come next. It feels odd. Is this zen?
I
should like to see the ocean.
Kwang-sik
departs.
