I don’t want to fail at this.
It’s funny, I think I have reached a place in my life, through experience as well as through elements of privilege (money and health, etc) where the outside world is not what challenges me any more. It’s all inside
We’ve chosen our first pilgrimage. No, not the Via Francigena we have always dreamt of (and planned for the better part of 2 fucking years), but the Camino de Santiago. The reasons are many, but simply put, we wanted to stay in one country while #Covid19 was still raging instead of bounding from country to country to country.
Anywho…
I don’t want to fail at this, and I don’t mean fail to reach our destination, or fail to walk the whole way. I see failure in the everyday. I see letting my blood sugar get low enough to make me cranky or sleepy as failure. I see getting dehydrated as failure. I see not having the right socks or underwear available as failure, causing unbearable blisters or chaffing. I see failure in not picking the right shoes and keeping them dry. I see being lazy and accepting bad meat to eat rather than quality fruits and vegetables as failure.
I have traversed greater distances, higher elevations, and steeper climbs than this. I’ve definitely been in weirder and scarier environments than this. The walking is not the cause for concern. The culture is not the concern. It’s not my legs, lungs, or heart that matter. It’s what is between the ears that scares me.
Just as it is advertised, a pilgrimage is to be a voyage of self discovery. I guess, what I hope for is to not fail. Or, to fail spectacularly, find acceptance, and simply keep moving.
