Long ago, I said I would tell the story of my pilgrimage to Santiagode Compostela along the Way of Saint James. Though it has taken quite a while, be assured, it is happening. It would be rude to jump right in, so let us start with how I initially planned my trip. The pre-departure trip planning, if you will.
My Trip Planning Process
I like planning. Maybe that is why I am a transit planner, and why my family and friends trust my trip planning ability. It was obvious that going on a journey as long and arduous as a pilgrimage would require a good plan. As soon as I decided to go on a pilgrimage, my mind was hard at work figuring out my plan.
After I learned I could take three weeks off work, I decided where I would start. When I first began trip planning in the summer of 2013, I read on one of many websites that the Camino Frances, or the French Way, was the most popular route and therefore would be the busiest. I was not fond of being with a ton of people. I’m a bit shy and I like walking alone, but what really concerned me then was finding space in the albergues along the way each night.
The Camino Frances, or the French Way, through Spain to Santiago de Compostela.
More research showed that there were other, less travelled ways. The Camino del Norte, or the Northern Way, drew my attention because of its proximity to the ocean. Splendid ocean views for hundreds of kilometres?! Sign me up!
The Camino del Norte, or the Northern Way, through Spain to Santiago de Compostela.
Now I needed to figure out which city along the Northern Way to start my walk. Apparently, walking along the full length of the route would take at least a month, so after fiddling around with Google Maps, I decided on the port city of Santander. I figured with a walking rate of 40 kilometres (24.85 miles) a day I could get to Santiago with time to spare.
A Change of Plans
However, my trip planning would not go according to plan. A mere month before my trip my boss informed me that I could no longer take my time off during my planned vacation time. Saddened by the news, I cancelled my flight and put aside my excitement…but not for long. This was a momentary setback, as I was still intent on going, even if I was forced to reexamine my plan.
February 2014 was my new departure month, after a more clear talk with the boss. I also examined my route again, and decided that walking in winter along a stormy sea would be much less fun than along beaches during a hot summer, which was my initial plan. After more research, my new plan was to start at the city of León, complete the Camino San Salvador, then continue to Compostela along the Camino Primitivo.
I ended up walking from León to Santiago de Compostela along the Camino San Salvador and the Camino Primitivo.
From what I had read, it would be quite the adventure. I would be walking through mountains in the middle of winter along rarely trodden paths. Just my kind of trip! I prepared myself by taking long walks through nearby neighbourhoods (sometimes through knee-deep snow – I’m Canadian!). I also asked my family for a good jacket and hiking boots for Christmas.
Final Preparations
With the plan set, I rebooked my flight to Madrid, noting that I would have to take a train to León. I booked a room for a night in a university residence, printed a few maps, and mentally prepared myself for the journey.
Some of my gear I still have from that pilgrimage: jacket, sleeping bag, hiking boots, cargo pants, track pants, backpack, long-sleeve shirt, guidebook to Northern Spain, and the camera I used to take my photos (used to take this photo).
With the day of departure nearing, I packed up and got ready to go. Though I would have to carry everything I needed on my journey upon my back, at least I would not have to pay for check-in luggage! Besides the clothes I wore on the plane (pants, shirt, thin hoodie, and jacket), all of my meager belongings would need to fit in my pockets and backpack:
Two more hiking outfits (pants, shirt, underwear, socks), plus spare socks and underwear
Pyjamas
Water bottle with filter
Guidebook to the Camino de San Salvador
Guidebook to Northern Spain
Multi-tool
Compass
Camera
Passport, wallet w/ID, credit card and hundreds of Euro in cash
Protein bars
Detergent pods
Medical supplies (ointment, needle, lighter, sports tape, bandages, gauze)
Toiletries (toothbrush, toothpaste, rubbing alcohol, hand sanitizer, soap, small towel)
Wool gloves
Hat
Small sleeping bag
MP3 player and earphones
Blackberry phone and charger
Yes, this is a long list. However, there were some things I did not think to bring, such as sunscreen, sunglasses and a power outlet adapter. All in all, my backpack weighed about 9kg (20lbs). Keep in mind that I would be putting more things (such as food and water) in it throughout my journey, which I would also have to carry.
Trip Planning Complete
After all this planning and packing, I felt ready to take on whatever came my way (or rather, what I would end up meeting). However, there were many things to worry about that I had not yet thought about: where to go in León to begin my pilgrimage, common Spanish phrases I might find handy, and what other supplies I might need. Despite this, I was ready to travel!
The next post (whenever I get around to that) will be about Day 0 – Travelling to León, Spain. Thanks for reading!
I fear I have waited too long to post. Though I have been preoccupied, I have always had time to write. Unfortunately, I have had little incentive or compulsion to post. You see, I have found someone very special who loves to hear my stories and seems to appreciate them all, so the main reason I started this blog has been fulfilled. However, I will try to post here and there when I have the ability to focus.
Also, I was supposed to start posting about the details of my pilgrimages. It was harder than I imagined, as there were many details to describe, many of which I have to actually research. I have no problem doing this for reports at work, but I find it incredibly difficult to sustain focus on my own projects. I am sorry for this. Maybe if I pretend people are waiting to read the next installment I can summon the willpower to post more often. We shall see!
A Poem For Your Reading Pleasure
As you can tell from the post title, this is all about fears we may face on our journeys. I will tell you of a time I was struck by fear during a night in an abandoned monastery. Maybe you can imagine what haunted me that evening seven years ago. Read my poem and find out!
(This poem is based on Anglo-Saxon alliterative verse. To read it properly, pause a bit at the long space in the middle of each line and at the end of each line. Of course, if there is punctuation, follow that.)
The Abandoned Monastery
Image taken from the Internet. Not the actual monastery I stayed at.
There lies a path picturesque but perilous
Called the Camino de Santiago or Camino for short;
The Way of Saint James for English speakers.
Pilgrims walk towards the west of the world
To the city of Santiago de Compostela 5
Where the bones of Saint James the apostle of Christ sleep.
Then some follow further to Finisterre
Where the earth ends and eternal waters emerge.
Here is one traveller’s tale which tells of a time
He made a chilling choice and was chastened for it. 10
Though he overcame the outrageous ordeal
The memory of it still remains in his mind.
After many miles of marching through mud
A young man yawned yearning for rest.
Sleepily stumbling he sought shelter and safety 15
In a corner of the Camino called Cornellana.
He hoped to hide in a hotel or hostel
From the cold night. Now evening neared, and no one
Greeted the weary wanderer with a warm welcome;
For few visitors would venture a voyage here 20
During winter weather windy and wet.
Spring and summer were the sweeter seasons.
Turning towards a little-used track the young man travelled
To a broken building battered and beaten
By sleet and sun. Slowly the sojourner 25
Approached the ancient abode, an abandoned abbey
At the furthest tip of town. Tonight he would end the day’s toil,
Forcing himself into fitful slumber within the forsaken monastery.
Passing the courtyard entrance in early evening
The young man looked upon a looming limb of shadow 30
Set by the abbey’s steeple in the setting sun.
Broken windows watched warily, wind whistling within
While grey stones lay silent scheming among themselves.
Inside the young man’s head churned hints of haunted halls
Where terrible spirits tormented his thoughts. 35
Distraught but not yet defeated he discovered the door
To a hidden hall for hikers. It was here he would sleep
Until the sun rose, and, rejuvenated from rest,
The young man could continue his Camino.
Despite the darkness he darted through the door 40
Into a peculiar place where no people were present.
Many bunk beds there were bearing thick blankets
And fluorescent lamps flickered on flooding all in white;
Lacking even a lonely window for natural light to leak in.
This space was a modern miracle unlike the musty monastery, 45
Which was old and odious overcome by age;
Yet it nurtured a nasty nature born from years of neglect.
Better here than the bare outdoors the young man believed
As he ate and attended to all his ailments.
At last, clean and cozy he clambered into bed 50
Though fearful he was fatigued and fell into fitful repose.
The young man slept soundly until his soul was shaken.
From slumber he shot up scared and shaking.
The doors had burst asunder from an attack of angry airs
For a menace had marched into the monastery. 55
Firmly frozen was he by the unfriendly force;
Enthralled by the entity entering the room.
At any moment a murderer or madman
Would pounce, or perhaps a powerful predator
Haggard and hungry would have him for dinner. 60
Stunned into silence the young man stared
Beyond the doorway into deadly darkness.
The seconds slipped by ever so slowly
As he anxiously awaited an end to it all.
But no one ever came to claim him captive, 65
Or haunt his waking nightmare with hideous horrors.
Little by little his limbs loosened
And daring to breathe he brought back life to his body.
Rising out of bed and ready to react
The young man moved towards the monstrous maw 70
Of the ominous opening to the outdoors.
His only weapon was his walking stick
Solid and sturdy but not strong or sharp.
He nudged his neck into the night
Expecting to be enveloped and eaten by enemies. 75
But there were no foes for the young man to fight
Nor ravenous beasts roaring with rage.
A sudden storm had sprung scouring the earth
With wicked winds and whips of lightning
While a dismal downpour drowned the land. 80
Though the thunderstorm was thrashing outside
The young man’s heart harboured new hope.
Wild and wicked weather had wrenched the door wide open
Not beasts or burglars nor boogeymen or bandits.
Relieved by the revelation he reached for the doorknob, 85
Slammed the door shut and securely set the lock.
Time there still was to tumble back into bed
And prepare for tomorrow’s path away from this place.
Now that the nightmare had been negated
The young man was undaunted, until he laid eyes upon the unknown. 90
Only now he realized that in the rear of the room
There was another door disguised in the dark
Which led closer to the centre of the cavernous convent.
As frightening as the first fear had been
It was nothing like this newer threat. 95
To close this door he must delve deeper,
Plunging further inside this perilous place.
Shocked, the young man stared into his soul.
His will wavered and he felt weak,
As his heart grew heavy with hopelessness. 100
Though the storm had not stopped only silence could be heard
From the vacant veil filling his vision.
Step by shaking step the young man shifted
Towards the terrible darkness and the terrors that lay hid
All the while imagining what awaited him within. 105
Robbers and ruffians he was now ready to resist
But devils and demons dismayed him with dread.
Groping in the gloom the young man grasped
The knob of the door to knock out the night.
Before he could bar the way a bolt of lightning 110
Assaulted the abbey filling all the air
With a flash of light, forcing the darkness to flee.
For a mere moment the young man saw
Revealed to him all reverence in ruin.
The grated stained glass could no longer guard 115
Against the whims of wanton weather.
The pews and podiums had been pounded to dust,
While carven sculptures had cast cold glances
Upon the loathsome ashes with lidless eyes.
The stone pillars gleamed with pale power 120
In the evanescent electric light,
Their topmost turrets trembling with the thunder.
For hundreds of years these halls had not heard
People professing their prayers to heaven,
Nor hallowed hymns of heavenly praise; 125
Only the constant creaking of callous time kept company.
Though the illusion was illuminated for only an instant,
For the young man, the majesty and misery
Of the scene before him was too baleful to bear.
Seeking safety he slammed the door shut 130
Then placed chairs in piles across the passageway
So spirits would tumble if they sought after his soul.
Leaving the lights on he leapt into bed
And huddling under covers he hoped beyond hope
That he could fall asleep and would awaken again 135
In the sweet embrace of soothing sunlight.
The minutes passed by without mention of menace
As heartbeat slowed and head healed from horror.
Oppressed by the ordeal sleep overcame him,
This lonely young man, who, looking to lie down, 140
Searched for shelter and security
In an ancient and abandoned abbey.
Meekly the sun rose on a misty morning.
Amazed to awaken unharmed and alive
The young man mused that this must be a miracle! 145
Surveying the scene he saw the doors still shut
While the chairs continued to crowd the closely guarded hallway.
Though refreshed from rest he registered no relief
From the dark dangers dwelling behind the doors.
He swiftly prepared to depart from this place 150
That had tricked him and tormented his thoughts.
With baggage packed and belly full with breakfast
The young man marched out of the monastery
Quickly and quietly to continue his quest
On the Way of Saint James to the field of stars, 155
The city of pilgrims, Santiago de Compostela.
The Monastery of San Salvador in Cornellana, Spain
The actual monastery I stayed at in the town of Cornellana, Spain.
According to Wikipedia, the monastery was founded in 1024 by the daughter of King Bermudo II of León, making it almost a thousand years old. However, most of the existing monastery was built in sections over the following centuries. The specific history of the building can be found here (in Spanish).
Though it was not my preferred place to sleep that night, a number of circumstances brought me there. First, I arrived in the town of Cornellana at sunset, so it was a logical place to stop for the night. Second, the monastery was an albergue, or at least part of it was. The pilgrims’ bedroom and the kitchen were relatively clean and modern, so I assumed they were safe to use. These were located around the courtyard, and not the dilapidated church front in the above picture. Third, my previous experiences with albergues led me to believe that a caretaker or hospitallero would come by to sign me in and give me a quick tour of the place. This did not happen. By the time I realized no one was coming, it was too late to leave and search for a hotel. I was stuck there alone.
At this point there was no fear in my heart, only regret that I would not have a warm meal for dinner. Still, I made the most of my time there. I took a nap, ate some of my supplies for dinner, and attempted to wash some clothes with nothing but some detergent and the washroom sink. Despite the stereotypical location, the thought of ghosts or spirits had not yet popped into my head. (This incident happened before my encounter with the horses in the blizzard, which I wrote about previously.)
Fear of the Unknown
Fear is something that all people experience. Many of us have common fears , such as a fear of heights, spiders, or needles. Some of us have very specific and strange fears, such as a fear of weird shapes, wide open spaces, or clowns. However, I am sure that there are things out there in the world that we would fear, if we only knew about them. And for me, I discovered that sleeping in an abandoned monastery during a thunderstorm was one of those things.
So what can we do about our fear of the unknown? One thing you cannot do is stay home and hide forever. I imagine this is especially the case if you are claustrophobic. Jokes aside, never taking any risks to avoid potential dangers sounds like a very sad and dull way to live. Firstly, one would miss out on all the joys of life outside of one’s doorsteps, whether they would like social interactions, or exploring new places, or just learning new things. Secondly, without engaging in something new there is no growth, and if a creature does not grow, is it really alive?
This sounds like social commentary on COVID-19 lockdowns, does it not? That is because they both deal with the idea of staying safe versus taking a risk. You have probably heard the phrase “an abundance of caution” many times since these lockdowns began. If we lived by that mantra then we would be paranoid neat-freaks living in a bubble. This is hardly a way to live, but if some choose to do so, then by all means let them. However, for the rest of us to live and grow we must venture out into the world.
How To Take The First Step Past Fear
Yes, curiosity killed the cat. But we are not cats.
So what can we do to lessen our fear of the unknown? This is difficult, especially since the unknown is by definition, not known. But one way to do this is to be resilient and capable. When I went on my pilgrimages, I did not know what I was really getting into. However, I was healthy, fit, reasonably well-equipped, adaptable, and I knew where I wanted to go and in which general direction to go. That does not mean I was carefree and blissful in my ignorance, only that I could recover from my fear in time to deal with the issues that popped up during my journey. And trust me, there were many!
So how does one become more resilient and capable? I do not have a simple answer, except that one should try new things. Let us say you are the world’s best swimmer. That experience has some general benefits, like excellent physical fitness, an ability to swim fast, and maybe a degree of diligence and focus. But will your adept swimming skills help you assemble IKEA furniture? Study for a biology test? Create a mobile app? Probably not (though I would not know for sure since I’m not a world-class swimmer). Also, I am not a psychiatrist, so take my words with lots of salt!
In short, we face our fears by living life. Our experiences ready us for the next challenge, which in turn allow us to understand ourselves better and give us confidence in our abilities, whatever they may be. And hopefully I will soon undertake my next challenge, to post more often!
My apologies for the lack of posts. I have a spiritual desire to write, but sometimes not the mental focus to do so. However, I was able to put up all of the pictures I took on my pilgrimage through Spain. They are all available to see at A View of My World. When I figure out how to put multiple gallery links on the same page you will be able to find pictures of nearly all the trips I’ve made over the years. You can see the world from my point of view through the pictures I took.
One of many photos of my pilgrimage in Spain in the gallery. Here are the hills around the town of Tineo.
Lately I have been fixated on writing poems. I completed one recently, but instead of that one I will present to you one I completed previously. Don’t be shocked; this isn’t the first poem I’ve shown you. There was one in the post about Journeys and Mystical Experiences. It was about ten strangers who guided me through a blizzard.
I’ve mentioned the hero’s journey in a previous post. At some point during good stories, the protagonist will go through difficult challenges in their quest. It is a descent into the underworld, or an abyss, where one struggles and then transforms into something greater. Someone like Jordan Peterson has much more to say about that. Anyways, this poem is about my descent into an abyss of sorts.
In this new poem I suffered from an attack on my soul that I could not fight against. I wrote my previous poem without first thinking about the structure. This time, I decided on a A B C B rhyming pattern with lines of 10 syllables each. In other words, a ballad arranged in quatrains. Here it is in all of its glory, whether or not it is worthy.
A Wind of Wrath
It was barren winter in Tuscany,
When I journeyed thousands of miles from home.
I climbed the slopes of Mount Amiata,
On my way to Saint Peter’s Square in Rome.
On a cold grey dawn in this far-off land,
I woke to walk on a long winding path.
When out of town, beyond any aid,
I was beset by a wind full of wrath.
For I had followed an old worn out road,
Jagged and broken, to a naked hill.
Without shelter I was cruelly exposed,
To a fierce tempest with intent to kill.
It blew suddenly and without mercy,
From everywhere, with no place to hide,
With threats to push me over the cliff’s edge,
And set my corpse upon the countryside.
Neither rain nor lightning fell from the sky,
As the unseen force pushed on with its goal:
To assail me with bursts of sharp cold air,
Striking not just my body, but my soul.
I stumbled forward on my hopeless way,
Afraid of this invisible power.
The air pierced me deeply through coat and skin,
And I felt this would be my final hour.
My limbs grew heavy and my face turned cold,
But within my heart a hot fire was set.
With a booming voice I yelled at the sky,
“You should try harder, since I’m not dead yet!”
As if to contemplate my bold challenge,
The wind ceased its assault on me.
But when it decided on an answer,
It attacked with renewed ferocity.
Suddenly I was struck across the face,
By ghostly hands tipped with wicked cold nails.
All I could feel was the endless barrage;
All I could hear were the spirits’ shrieks and wails.
Was this a test of faith from the heavens,
Or torture from one who lives far below?
I racked my mind for an explanation,
While anticipating the final blow.
I struggled forward against the tempest,
Which blew for what seemed an eternity.
Despite my courage I felt all was lost;
I would not overcome adversity.
To survive I focused all of my will
To plodding along on the path ahead.
It was with wonder when I discovered
It was the wind, and not I, that was dead.
I must not have taken notice at all
At what time the wind stopped blowing my way.
Did I pass a divinely ordained test,
Or did a demon get bored of foul play?
With no wind like sharp knives to stab my eyes,
I could finally take in all the sights,
Of endless brown hills painted with green fields,
And of bare trees clamouring up the heights.
My difficult struggle had left me spent,
And I sat on a rock to recover.
Yet I could not rest here for much longer,
For there would be much more to discover.
It was barren winter in Tuscany,
When I journeyed thousands of miles from home.
I climbed the slopes of Mount Amiata,
On my way to Saint Peter’s Square in Rome.
A Spiritual Attack by the Unknown
It was here, on this forsaken roadway, where I was first struck by the divine wind. The grey morning, the loneliness, and the withered old road made me feel like I was in a post-apocalyptic world.
I left the village of Gallina on a bleak, grey morning. This was yet another pilgrimage, and I was in central Italy on my way to Rome. I walked alone along a crumbling roadway on the slopes of Monte Amiata. Soon, a harsh and powerful wind struck. I had felt blasts of strong, cold wind before, but nothing like this. It blew constantly as it hit me deep inside, as if it was aiming for my soul.
Of course the physical wind was strong enough to push me closer to the unguarded cliff edges at the sides of the road. But that was nothing compared to the extremely uncomfortable feeling of the wind blowing right through me. Physically I could enduring the long walk and the strong cold wind. Mentally I could accept that this powerful and constant gust could come out of nowhere and hinder my progress. Emotionally I was not affected – at least, not at the beginning. It was spiritually that I was vulnerable. My soul was under attack spiritually, and I could not defend myself.
You may not believe in spirits or the soul. And it doesn’t matter. I didn’t know what to do against this wind that seemed to be both physical and spiritual. Even though I kept walking forward I could feel myself breaking down internally. I should mention that I was not in extreme pain; it was more like an unbearable feeling, maybe like holding in your pee for too long or maintaining an awkward yoga pose. When I felt I couldn’t take it anymore, I yelled at the sky to just kill me already. While the wind barely paused, I found myself in possession of newfound inner strength, though just enough to get through the wind and begin the climb up Monte Amiata.
Pushed to All of My Limits
This strength appeared because I had a focus for my problem. The strange and unbearable wind from nowhere had become a test of my resolve and my faith. It was a stark reminder that there are things out there we cannot fathom, or fully understand, or even influence. Even though I may have said things like, “I endured the wind”, it was I that was at the mercy of greater powers, and not they who were at the mercy of my endurance.
When the wind died I didn’t notice at first because I was pushing my body and soul to their limits moving forward. Only after climbing halfway up the mountainside did I find the world was quiet and calm. Immediately I felt more tired than I had ever been, and I sat on a rock to rest. I have done many stressful and taxing things before, but nothing that strained me in every way possible, that is physically, mentally, emotionally, and spiritually.
Most people have been through taxing ordeals in each of these ways, but some are more common than others. Physical and mental struggles are easy to understand. Emotional and spiritual ordeals are less common. That means we have less experience dealing with them, and fewer strategies to help us recover.
If we are sleepy then we sleep. This helps us physically and mentally. But how to recover from emotional trauma? Or a spiritual ordeal? More likely than not we would need help from outside of ourselves. That might be talking with a loved one, or with prayer to a holy figure for guidance. Help like that sometimes comes from unexpected places and in strange forms.
A Quick Aside
According to the book The Power of Full Engagement, we have four energy sources: physical, mental, emotional, and spiritual. Managing how we utilize and rejuvenate each of those sources is a key factor in improving not only our performance, but our lives.
Climbing Out of the Spiritual Abyss
The altar and upper pews of Abbazia di San Salvatore, or the Abbey of the Saviour, in southern Tuscany. The church is more than a thousand years old.
In the hero’s journey, transformation comes after surviving the underworld. I barely survived my ordeal. After I caught my breath sitting on the rock for a while, I continued my ascent both up the mountainside and out of the abyss. As I climbed along the slopes of the chestnut forest, my mind recovered from my spiritual encounter by focusing not on what had transpired, but on the beauty and grace of this place.
By 11 a.m. I arrived in the town of Abbazia San Salvatore, on the slopes of Monte Amiata. By chance I found a restaurant that just opened, and I had myself the best mushroom soup I’ve ever had for lunch. Also, the proprietor of the place was curious about me, and in surprisingly good English asked why I was here, how I got here, and where I was headed. The rest, the food, and the social interaction helped me recover physically, mentally, and emotionally.
That just left my depleted spirit. At noon, when the church bells rang twelve times to signal midday, I walked into the empty church and namesake of the town, Abbazia di San Salvatore. Already I felt my spirit rising, but when I walked down the steps into the ancient crypt of the church, I felt my spirit soar! The dark and cold chamber may have well be the same as it was a thousand years ago, and that, strange though it may be, comforted me. I breathed in the cold sharp air and felt renewed. And when I stepped outside into the light of the noontime sun escaping from the grey clouds, I was ready for more walking.
Ironically I was able to recover spiritually by descending into the more than one thousand year old crypt of a church.
Same Journey, New Outlook
The sun was shining brightly as I left town at one hour after noon. As I descended the mountain the mysterious divine wind returned. It blew fast and hard, but this time it didn’t affect me spiritually. Though it was still strong enough to push me around, it had no effect on my soul. I felt no fear, or fatigue, or frustration. Though the wind raged outside an inner peace filled me that a bit of moving air could not disturb.
My walk for the day was nowhere near over. Though there were more dangers to come I had overcome one of the most troubling ordeals of my life. Enduring a spiritual attack is not something that happens often to me. Ironically climbing a mountain put me into a spiritual pit of suffering, while descending into a crypt raised my spirits. Since this did occur on a pilgrimage, I hope you will allow me this one religious comparison. The scene is comparable to (in form but not in magnitude) to the death and Resurrection of Jesus Christ. Though lifted up on a cross and tormented to death in humiliation, He rose from the dead in glory.
Those are my thoughts on yet another event from one of many lonely journeys. It one inspiring enough to compel me to write a poem. Though I have said this before and failed to deliver, I will say it again and try once again: I hope to follow up this post with accounts of each day of my pilgrimage in Spain, complete with pictures, maps, and explanations.
If you like what you read, let me know and hopefully your comments will encourage me to update faster! Stay healthy and safe!
My last post summarized the beginnings of my journey – my pilgrimage – through northwest Spain. While I did say that I had many different inspirations motivating me to hike alone for three weeks in a strange country, I didn’t say what they were. I should have, because when I tell people about this particular trip they wonder what could possibly compel me to spend three weeks in the mountains of a country whose language I didn’t know, and with nothing but my backpack.
I’ll try to explain here.
Purpose
When I was a kid my family would go on trips for summer vacation, about one per year. This was how I got to see Atlantic City Boardwalk, or the Green Mountains in Vermont, or the Montreal Biosphere, or the Grand Canyon. While I did enjoyed the trips, I never had the choice to go or stay home.
Now as an adult, I could go wherever I wanted; however, I felt no great urges to go on vacation. Many people I knew travelled to relax on Caribbean beaches, or to feel sophisticated within European cities, or to snap photos of Asian temples. Don’t get me wrong; I would have loved to see these things also, but I feel like going just for the sake of going. I needed a reason, a purpose.
Luckily for me, I was a part of many groups and events that gave me reasons to go. I went to Peru for a karate tournament…and saw Machu Picchu on the way. Mount Fuji was a quick aside on my trip to be a part of the first foreign university team to take part in a Tokyo area kendo competition. Since my family wanted to see the Pacific Northwest, we might as well visit my cousin on the way. If I had to fly to Calgary for work, then I would stop in Banff for a little sightseeing. And so on and so forth.
A view of Machu Picchu. Just a little side trip made after an international tournament.
In short, I like travelling when I have a purpose besides seeing the sights. Even if the purpose is just a flimsy excuse to go on vacation. And for my first solo trip I wanted to have an important purpose. Three of them, actually.
A Call to Adventure
I love to walk. But strangely, I probably don’t walk as often as most people. I remember one time I showed a friend of mine the picture below. After being suitably impressed, he inquired about my daily average steps. Despite the fact that I had walked nearly one million steps in three weeks, my daily average over the past 12 months was lower than his. Of course, he was the type of person to spend at least half an hour every day walking.
From my iPhone after walking day and night along the hills of Tuscany during my pilgrimage to Rome.
I love walking, but when I do I want it to be an adventure. There has to be something for me to see and discover, to learn about and to appreciate. This is why I don’t take daily walks. Sure, I could see and discover what new lawn ornament my neighbour put up, or appreciate how much higher the grass has grown. But that’s not really an adventure.
I can easily recall my many walking adventures. I once walked through a pitch-black forest with a CEO. There was a time I hiked through a jungle in my bare feet. To skip school and avoid a horrible assignment, I took a detour and followed a stream into a strange forest. On a bright summer day I walked along a country road, and with every step I took frogs would jump out of the grass. I could go on and on about my little adventure walks.
Whether long or short, local or foreign, easy or difficult, an adventure for me is a journey somewhere out of the ordinary. And that was the most compelling force pulling me towards a pilgrimage.
Escape From Reality
For many people, vacations are an escape from the constant grind of work, school, and responsibilities. Some people can’t truly escape their duties; however, I had nearly cut myself off from not only contact with family and friends, but from thoughts of home as well. I did the minimum required of me, which was to let my mom know I was alive every couple of days or so.
But for the most part, I let myself be absorbed into the present, thinking nothing of where I came from or what would be waiting for me when I returned home. I only had one all-encompassing goal: to reach Santiago de Compostela. The simplicity of having this, and nothing else, motivate me was a freedom I had rarely experienced. I was not beholden to many different bosses with many competing tasks. It was just me and the road ahead.
Just me and the road ahead.
Trust in God
I also wanted to reconnect with my spirituality. The Camino de Santiago has its basis in religious pilgrimage, after all. A pilgrimage, as defined by Wikipedia, is “…a journey, often into an unknown or foreign place, where a person goes in search of new or expanded meaning about their self, others, nature, or a higher good, through the experience. It can lead to a personal transformation, after which the pilgrim returns to their daily life.”
As a practicing Roman Catholic, I thought I was being faithful by going through the motions of attending Mass and praying. That was not enough. For me, while the real meat of this pilgrimage was the adventure, the heart of it was the spiritual aspect. This journey would really show me what it meant to put one’s trust in God. Though I was all alone for most of my journey, I did not feel alone. And as I stumbled across northwest Spain I saw and experienced things I found hard to explain, though I certainly hope to try later on with this blog.
Though the spiritual lessons I learned didn’t stick with me long after the walk had ended, it did lay a seed of belief within me that would blossom and bear fruit…much later. It would take years of time, another pilgrimage, and many tests of character before I realized how important my faith and my spirit was to me. I mean, I am kind of stubborn that way.
The Cathedral of Santiago de Compostela, the main goal of my pilgrimage in Spain.
Blended Feelings
In my previous post I alluded to the fact that there was wasn’t a single reason compelling me to go. Which is true; I have listed three. But when I had decided to go on a pilgrimage in 2013 I didn’t have any of my reasons clearly laid out. I just felt like I had to go. When explaining to people why I was going, I threw out the words “pilgrimage”, “sightseeing”, and “adventure”. But I used those topics because they were easier to explain.
I simply felt a calling, a deeply felt need to go. I am unable to explain it in any other way. Yes, the reasons I listed above were involved, but they manifested themselves as this single beacon of light beckoning me to come closer. Interestingly enough, you may find other pilgrims that continue to be called back to the Camino despite having completed it already. This pilgrimage was, and I’m sure remains, special for all people who have experienced it, no matter their nationality, creed, or purpose.
Now that I’ve gotten the why out of the way, I hope to show the what and the how of my journey. With any luck I will write again sooner rather than later, and more consistently as well. If you have anything to add at all, you are welcome to comment.
Take care and my God bless you on your journey through life.
I last made a post here a long while ago, and in that time the world has changed dramatically. The COVID-19 pandemic and its associated effects, such as lockdowns and layoffs, affected many millions of people including myself. However, that has had little effect on my lack of posts. Though I have been busy at times, I have had enough time to write. But I could not bring myself to do so. And I don’t really know why.
I have so many stories to tell about my adventures, but so few people to hear them. Not because I don’t know many people, or that my family and friends don’t want to listen to me. But people can only listen for so long, and my tale can’t really be told in one sitting.
One would think that that would be great incentive to pen my tales and present them on this site. But after holding them in for so long, I found it hard to let the words flow from my brain onto my computer. I also found it difficult to break my adventures down into bite-sized pieces for people to digest in one sitting. There is nothing I would love more than to sit down with a captive audience and regale them with a story of my journeys from start to finish.
I always imagined telling my story to a captive audience in a setting like this. It’s been a long time for me since I enjoyed a good bonfire…
Actually, there is one thing I would like more than to sit by a fire and tell stories. That would be to take a long walk with someone while telling them my story. Those few moments in life when I engaged in just that were some of the more memorable walks of my life. Maybe one day I will tell the tale of when I took a long walk with someone while telling them a tale of when I took a long walk…
Alas, as I don’t have a captive audience at my beck and call, this site will have to do. I suppose I should start with one journey at a time. Let us start from before the beginning…
The Way of Saint James
As mentioned before in a previous post, in February and March 2014 I went on a pilgrimage along the Way of Saint James (The Camino Santiago, Camino for short) in northwest Spain (If you want more information about its origins, you can start here). There are many different paths one can choose from, and I chose two paths. The first was called the Camino San Salvador, and ran between the cities of Leon and Oviedo. The second was called the Primitivo, and linked Oviedo to Santiago de Compostela, the pilgrimage site for the Way of Saint James. In total my journey was over 500km (300mi) long and took three weeks to complete. Quite the long walk indeed!
A map of the most popular route, the French Way. This would not be my way though…
It was my first overseas trip all alone. Beforehand I had travelled and had explored places alone, but they were local affairs and certainly were not as lengthy (both distance and time-wise) as this trip. During these few weeks I saw huge cathedrals, abandoned monasteries, blinding blizzards, snow-clad mountains, sunlit seas, and many other wonders and horrors. I received unexpected boons from complete strangers, as well as many quizzical stares.
I made friends in the middle of nowhere, and celebrated at impromptu parties. There were powerful feelings of ecstasy and terror, as well as pain and elation. I learned about the things my body and mind could and could not endure. And after all that had happened, I look back on it all and realize that those three weeks were some of the greatest in my life.
What drove me to take this long walk?
There isn’t any single reason that compelled me to go. Sometime during my university days I had read about the Camino during one of my many procrastination moments. I have always been curious about many topics, except for what I should be doing at the present moment. While this trait has helped me learn much, it has also left many unfinished projects waiting for my input. Anyways, being in university to study civil engineering, I put aside all thoughts of travel to concentrate on my studies.
Even after I graduated during the Great Recession in 2009, instead of travelling I tried to find a job in my field despite the bleak job opportunities. More than four years would pass before thoughts of the Camino would once again pop up in my mind.
Looking back, I can’t believe I was looking diligently for the opportunity to work in one of these instead of using my post-graduation freedom to explore the world…
By this time I was working, though in a slightly more humbling position than I expected to be in. During one of my breaks I was nonchalantly surfing the Internet, and somehow I managed to chance upon information about the Camino. Suddenly my heart filled with a burning passion to go on adventure to this strange land. This was in early 2013.
Afterwards I made plans, performed practice walks of ever-increasing lengths (from 10km to 40km), booked vacation time, and bought plane tickets. However, at the last moment my boss would not let me go to Spain in September 2013. Dejected, I asked for the next available three week time slot, which would lead to my pilgrimage in February 2014. In the meantime I practiced winter walking and asked my family for more appropriate winter hiking wear for Christmas.
So there I was in mid-February 2014, all packed and ready to go on a long walk. I felt prepared for anything, but reality would throw many wrenches into my plans even before I began my journey. If you’re reading this, I hope you will continue to join me on my long walk as I recount my tale from start to finish. It will take a while, but I promise to keep the stories coming on a hopefully timely basis.
Looks inviting….if it doesn’t come back at midnight.
My apologies for the lack of posts since the last one in July. At first I was away in Bogotá, Colombia, for an international karate tournament. After that I was in recovery mode. However, I did not recover. I caught a hacking cough from somebody on my return flight, and only two weeks later have the symptoms flared up. That alone might be reason enough to delay a blog post, but the truth is that I got lazy. Due to my cough I didn’t sleep well, and because I always had poor sleep, I didn’t have the energy or motivation to do anything. That led to late nights binge-watching useless Youtube videos, which led to poor sleep. And so on and so on.
What does sleep quality have to do with journeys? Plenty, actually. First, getting good sleep is crucial to climbing over mountains, trekking through pouring rain, and asking the locals in their languages for help. Second, some of the best sleep I have ever had was during my pilgrimages. And third, there was no feeling like the one I had where I was wandering in the wilderness and wondering where I was going to lay my head that night.
The Best Sleep I Ever Had
Part 1 – The Journey to Sleep
During my pilgrimage in Spain I had a lot of great sleep. I don’t know if I will ever attain that level of restfulness and rejuvenation again. However, there was one memorable sleep I had during my pilgrimage in Italy. Of course, it is an extreme example, and not a good way to get good sleep every night, but it is instructive if you know what to look for.
After walking 33.9km across the flat fallow farmlands of northern Italy I arrived at the town of Fiorenzuola-d’Arda. Along the way I dealt with burning pains in my feet, the hard thumps of my boots against never ending asphalt, and a river crossing. By the time I arrived in town it was dark, and I just wanted a place to stay. Two hotels later I found a decent place with pink walls and a bed just for me.
One of my ordeals that fateful day. At least the rocks were there. The water was knee deep.
After unloading my things and resting my feet a bit I rummaged through the dark town for some grub. A beer, salad, and a whole spicy pizza later, I was ready for bed. At 10pm I was fast asleep.
Appropriately named “La Bomba“. If you love a “meat lover’s” pizza, then you would love this one, if you don’t mind spice.
Part 2 – Asleep and Awake
At 10am I awoke to a gentle rapping upon my door. I opened my eyes in shock, but did not move. I had no idea when or where I was! Looking around, nothing seemed familiar. The knocking only increased with every minute it took for me to realize I was in Italy on a long walk. Finally my mind pieced everything together: I had been asleep for 12 hours! I had probably laid upon my bed like a dead thing, not even twitching. My body just needed as much sleep as it could muster, and my mind had left the world of pain and weariness to find a more serene locale. No wonder I was dazed and confused upon waking.
The knocking eventually stopped, followed by extremely poor English telling me there was breakfast downstairs. I opened the door and thanked the housekeeper for letting me know, but really I was disappointed I could not sleep more. Not that I needed any more. I was awake, I was alert, and for the moment I was healed in mind, body, and spirit.
Quick Review: Sleeping More Soundly
As mentioned before, this is an extreme example. No one should walk 30km or journey in foreign lands just to get better sleep. And it doesn’t always work. Below are some of the many factors found on the Internet that can affect sleep. Some of these are serious enough that even my method cannot help you. And just so you know, none of this is medical advice. I’m not a doctor.
A) External Factors – Light exposure during the day, use of electronics (blue light exposure), uncomfortable temperatures (especially heat), loud and/or irritating noise.
B) Physical and Physiological Issues – An actual sleep disorder (e.g. sleep apnea), consuming certain items close to bedtime (e.g. alcohol, caffeine), poor sleeping position, poor mattress and pillow, general comfort of bedroom, level of weariness at appointed sleep time, eating large meals close to bedtime, are you sick (especially with symptoms that could disrupt your sleep, like coughing or excessive urination).
C) Timing – Is bedtime at a consistent time? Do you plan on waking up at the same time each day? Does the bedtime & wake time make sense with your current lifestyle and habits? Do you know how much sleep you actually need? How much sleep do you actually get? (if you are in bed for 8 hours, how much of that was actually sleeping versus thinking/rolling around/rearranging pillows/eyes closed but nothing happening).
D) Mental Issues – Stress and worries, thoughts floating around your head.
E) Pre-Sleep Habits – Do you have any routines before bed? Are there sources of stimuli active that you could diminish before you sleep? (e.g. children running around, TV/radio on in background).
The albergue in the town of La Robla, Spain. Not shown: the temperature through the night, -5°C, both inside and outside this concrete abode. Uncomfortable sleeping temperatures indeed.
So What’s the Real Secret to Better Sleep?
It has something to do with D) Mental Issues and E) Pre-Sleep Habits. I know in my life there are nights when endless thoughts run through my head. Things I haven’t done, things that need doing, things I worry about, and things that bother me all float around in my grey matter. Those thoughts really cannot help you sleep better. In my tournament in Colombia, as usual for high-level events such as this one, I couldn’t stay asleep through the night. Different thoughts went through my head, from how I was going to punch people to if I was physically and mentally ready. This definitely relates to mental issues.
As for Pre-Sleep Habits, I’m not talking about meditation or writing in a journal, though those habits could help. No, I’m talking about more…successful actions. Yes, it is success that is the secret. If you live your life so that each day you accomplish something, you have a better chance of sleeping in peace. You won’t be bothered by your conscience, telling you that there are things yet to be done. Thoughts of tomorrow’s activities will be less likely to intrude uninvited into your mind.
How do I know this is the secret to better sleep? I don’t really know. This is all conjecture. But I have lots of experience with wondrous naps and fantastic sleeps, as well as horrible, no good sleeps.
How Does “Succeed to Sleep Better” Work?
Think about a day you had that was very hectic and busy. Maybe you wrote an important exam, or you were competing in some event. After the day was over, all you wanted to do was get into bed and sleep. And the result? Probably a good to great sleep, though you might not have even noticed.
Contrast this experience with a day where you did nothing. It doesn’t matter what “nothing” means to you, only that you didn’t do anything important or worthwhile. Maybe you binge watch Netflix all day and night, or you were “busy” collecting head shots on your favourite online FPS game. At some point you almost forced yourself to go to bed. The sleep afterwards was probably short and fitful. If you weren’t thinking about a myriad of things then you were probably tossing and turning in bed looking for the right spot to fall asleep – and not finding it.
My life these past two weeks were rather empty and full of fleeting pleasures. It should be no surprise that my sleeps had been compromised. I’m not even counting the persistent cough I’ve had for a week now. Being awoken by a dry cough two or three or four times in the night is not good for anyone, let alone a sad sack of a person. Is it any wonder that the stereotypical weed-smoking free-living hippie* always seems to look tired and depressed while successful people seem to have lots of energy even as they juggle a million tasks daily?
He might actually be rich, successful, and healthy, but he doesn’t look like he would be.
How to Use Success to Sleep Better?
First of all, you should make sure that your sleep issues are not coming from other sources. If you use a computer late into the night every night to play games, then you can probably just change your pre-sleep habits to tuning out electronics half an hour or an hour before you sleep, and sleep earlier. If you have sleep apnea or some other sleep disorder, you’re better off seeing a specialist. And so on.
Assuming you don’t have any outstanding sleep issues, we can move on. You don’t need to have a perfect sleep schedule or practice deep meditation; we just need to make sure there are no serious and obvious reasons why you can’t sleep well.
To get the most out of success as a sleep aid, we need to target something: 1) You will worry about as long as it remains incomplete, 2) that can actually be handled by you, and 3) You can get it done before sleeping.
Don’t keep yourself up all night because you can’t achieve world peace. In fact, don’t keep yourself up because you can’t achieve peace with one other person. If you can’t do something about it, you shouldn’t worry about it, even if it is important. Also, unless you have been putting them off for a while, doing repeating routine tasks like cleaning won’t help you feel successful. And if your success is completing a large project, you will need to break it up into smaller measurable parts so you can claim to have finished different sections each night.
So Where’s the Secret?
Ha ha, you got me. There is really no secret here, except to stop worrying and do some work every so often. But surprisingly, these are not considered tips for better sleep. When people think of relaxation they think of not doing anything, of lounging around watching TV or eating junk food. Having done that many times, I have come to the conclusion that this method of “recovery” is anything but. Meanwhile, their worries come out to grow in the fertile field of our minds.
So to recap, to get better sleep:
Make sure you are not suffering from actual sleep-depriving issues, whether external or internal to you. If you can do something about them then work on them first. Plus, handling them will probably count as success, helping you sleep better!
Have something in mind to accomplish. It’s best if this is something important, long term, and long overdue. Your subconscious will thank you for finally taking on that task it has been working on all this time. If it is a big project, pick a part of it to focus on, something you can do today.
When you are done with it, don’t go to bed thinking about the next step of the project, or the next unfinished task at hand. Write those down instead. A journal could be handy here, or a task list. Either way, as long as you finished today’s problem today, there is no need to handle tomorrow’s problem today as well.
If you are too busy to work on some long-incomplete task, then whatever you are working on is the task at hand. Life goes on for most of us, so we will have to deal with life’s problems when they come. Complete them, and be satisfied you handled them well.
I Hope We All Have Sweet Dreams
Well, that’s it for me! I finally finished a blog post, after nearly a month of neglect. Hopefully this means I can sleep with a clear mind and sound heart. I could use the sleep. This cold and fever is really getting to me, and I need to stop this downward spiral of ill health somewhere. I sincerely hope this will help you, and if you have any questions (or doubts), then by all means comment.
I took that phrase from C.S. Lewis’ book “The Screwtape Letters”, where it is explained that we all travel towards the future at the rate of 60 minutes per hour. Looking at our present moments, many of us are willing to bet that it definitely doesn’t feel that way. Of course it doesn’t. We are all rather poor at estimating how much time passes. Heck, even our perceptions of time not only differ from person to person, but even change according to circumstances. We have all noticed that time seems to slow down when we want it to go faster. The last five minutes before the final school bell rings are the longest ones – at least, if you are bored out of your mind. On the other hand, when you are having fun, the time seems to fly by.
Time may fly by, but “60 minutes per hour” is better demonstrated with a car.
(Speaking of which, why is it phrased as time “flying” by? Is it because that is the quickest method of transportation that can be imagined? Or does it just sound better than time “driving” by, or time “rocketing” by?)
So we all progress into the future at 60 minutes per hour. I could say 24 hours per day or 7 days a week, but 60 minutes per hour has that familiar look, similar to a speed limit, say 60 miles per hour. And this is important, because whether we are moving or sitting still we are travelling somewhere, whether or not we want to.
Journeys Take Time
For some people, this is fine, though for others it is unacceptable. Yet this is the human condition, to be bounded by time. For example, to go on a journey means to take the time to travel from one destination to another. We look at a map and decide where to go, and figure out how long it will take to get there, then we pick our method of transportation. The task at hand becomes a multi-dimensional task, in space and in time.
It doesn’t matter if we’re bored, or tired, or annoyed, or excited, or happy, since we want to get to a place at a certain time. So we could be trudging down a dirt path with sore feet and a bent back, but still travel at 60 minutes per hour. We could also be sitting down taking a break and travelling at 60 minutes per hour. By resting instead of moving, some may say that we are wasting time. But how can we waste time when we all go through it at the same pace?
“Life is a journey” is an often-repeated saying. I mentioned it last week. But not only did we not choose it, we have no control of the “speed” at which we go through it. Unless you die, you have no choice but to go through the trip. You might do nothing but eat and sleep, but you still have a life to live. Does this bring us any hope? It should.
“Time” Management
Since we are all travelling at the same rate through time, we only have to work on what we actually do in that time. There is no need to worry about saving time, about time management, about scheduling time, about wasting time. All these attempts to control time are really just about deciding what actions to take. Setting things for the future just means we either cannot do anything about them yet, or more likely with many of us, do not want to do anything about them just yet.
Shouldn’t “time management” really be called something else, like prioritizing, scheduling, or load management?
This is simple to imagine when procrastinating. We allocate all the work to our future selves, not truly understanding that our “future self” is just us having not yet travelled that far into the future. If we do not change anything about ourselves now we will not be any different if we travel at 60 minutes per hour into the future, so why even try to delay the action? Why not just admit you do not want to do it?
But we probably have to do these things, though we do not want to do them now. So we make excuses and plan out our time and manage our workloads. But by doing that we ignore the present for the future. Really, when we think about it, all we have is the present. Some people say that it is not good to be in the present moment, or to live for the present. Certainly, if you live as if only the present matters, then you may not be ready for the future. However, if you only think about the future you will not focus on the present and the actions you could take now.
Let us be honest, unless you have a vacation coming up when you think about the future you are thinking about future problems. On the other hand, to go about your day always thinking that the future will be better without clear goals and a plan may not help you either.
Living IN the Present
So we should use our present moments better? Yes, but to be more clear, using our present moments better does not have to mean always working. If we are doing something, then we should focus on it. If we are presently enjoying life, hanging out with friends, playing games, or reading a good book, then we should keep our attentions on those things, not worrying about what the future will hold.
Of course, there are many things people have to worry about, like having to pick up someone at a certain time, or making it to an appointment. The idea is once we know what we need to do, we should not have our heads stuck in the future while the rest of our being is living in the present. I think that would be a horrible way of living life. I know it definitely would be a poor way to go on a journey. Imaging going for a long walk and just thinking about where you will stop for lunch and if there will be a place to sit and if your feet will be okay and if it will rain or not. I cannot imagine spending all that time outside and coming away with nothing. I could have worried about all of those things without even leaving my house.
Of course, you would not have worried about those things if you stayed at home, but if you were going to leave it than you should either be ready or place your trust in something besides an unknown future, though whether you place your trust in God or fate or your abilities and skills and knowledge is up to you.
Worrying About the Future Exposes You to Problems
Worrying about the future opens you up to problems. Besides the fact that you will have a problem focusing on the present, you will be spending your 60 minutes an hour on things that do not exist. You might say, “Not yet, anyways” but unless those things will actually happen, then why worry about them? While we do want to do things in the present in order to prepare for the future, just the act of worrying and thinking about the future AS IF it were already here is not conductive to a good life.
People like to go faster, travel faster, move faster, work faster. Some people like the thrill of moving quickly, while others like the fact that we can get more done. When we break down speed it just means distance over time. So moving faster is getting further over the same period of time. Working faster is getting more done over the same period of time.
But what if I said that for many things in our lives, people do not want to get more done for a period of time, but to spend less time on those things while spending more time on other, more important things? It makes sense. Not everyone likes the work they do. They would rather be somewhere else than at work. And it is not like they can spend less time there. They have to work 9-5, so working faster would not do anything to alleviate the condition of being at work. This is unfortunate, but it is also a fact of life.
People Without a Future
Just imagine your whole history was erased, and your existing commitments demolished. The future is still coming at the rate of 60 minutes per hour, but now there is no future. I think many of us moderns would go insane at the idea. What should I be doing? What plans do I need to create? I think it would be maddening for some people not to know the future. But interestingly enough, there are a large number of people living in the world right now who do not have a “future”. As in, they do not really imagine a future, whether it is good or bad. They do not live for the future. They just live.
These people don’t worry about the future. They don’t worry about the past. In fact, they don’t worry at all, unless they is a serious reason that they have to.
These people are children. Children usually do not worry about the future, unless they have a reason to worry, for example an upcoming test. Conversely, they do not go around imaging wonderful futures for themselves, unless they are told they will be going to Disney World next week. Despite not really thinking about the future, these subset of people get along just fine. They learn quickly and are quite absorbed in what they are doing in the present moment, sometimes to the detriment of their caretakers. They could be focusing on that video game way too hard, but on the bright side, they might concentrate on doing their homework or their karate form or their musical piece with the same focus and determination.
Peering Into the Future
Children are really curious in that regard, and I do not think it is solely because they do not know that they have to be worried about the future. Of course, they do not have bills to pay or jobs to keep or children to feed. But there is something about how they just play and read and eat and live that is all in the moment. Everything they do is in the present moment, though as they grow older you can begin to see how thoughts about the future affect their state of mind.
A boy might wonder if a girl will say yes if he invites her to a dance. A girl may wonder if she will have a high enough mark to be accepted to university. A youngster may fear the next day of school because a bully is always waiting for him. I do not think looking into the future is natural for people, despite the fact we do it all the time. Conversely, enjoying the present moment should be natural, but the action has been rendered weak by our lack of practice.
The Future is Heaven or Hell
We should focus in on the present moment. We have all heard that before. There is another lesson here which may be a bit harder to digest, but it goes like this: Stop treating the future as a fantasy land. Our worries stretch out and magnify our grievances; likewise our dreams expand our hopes. In the future anything is possible, but compared to our present existences the future represents heaven and hell.
And it does not have to be the real Heaven and Hell either. It can just be the things we like or dislike magnified by uncertainty and enhanced by our imaginations to represent our views on the most wonderful place and the worst place for each of us. To avoid suffering in our personal hells we should pay attention to our present moments. To avoid being disappointed by our hopes of our personal heavens we should also pay attention to our present moments. Like it or not, the future will come anyways, at the rate of 60 minutes per hour.
Random Remarks
This post is a bit chaotic and yet repetitious because I wrote it using The Most Dangerous Writing App. I think I discovered it while searching up methods of improving one’s writing skills. Give it a whirl if you would like to try your hand at writing.
You are forced to keep writing. If you stop typing for longer than 5 seconds all of your progress is erased. You set a timer or a word count so what you write can be saved after you reached your goal. While I think it is more useful for creative writing I have been putting it to use for other purposes. Like this here blog post for starters. Though I do not think it is good I at least wrote more than 1,500 words on this topic. Especially without degenerating into mumbling often repeated platitudes about “time is money” and “haste makes waste” and so forth. So give it a try!
First of all, Happy Canada Day! I write this article as fireworks rise and explode over the local park while I enjoy them from my bedroom window.
Happy 152nd birthday Canada!
It does not matter if you are Canadian or not, or if you are in Canada or not, or taking a journey in Canada or not. I am a Canadian living in Canada, so for me July 1st is Canada Day, and I wish you a happy one whether you care or not!
With that out of the way, I warn you not to be fooled. Despite the title of this post I am not trying to explain why people go out and drive cars. If you have even driven a car, or have ever travelled by car, it might be somewhat obvious. Well, besides people who are showing off their Lambourghinis or other expensive cars!
People. Drive. Cars.
I want to explain why I used the phrase “People Drive Cars” as my site’s name. In my previous post I explained how I came up with the phrase, but why exactly did I use it? Well, for starters, it is simple and easy to remember. People. Drive. Cars. Not only are they three common words, but they make sense together.
On a more selfish note, the phrase has not been used for a website before. In fact, typing “peopledrivecars” into Google brings up my website first, though sadly, it does not appear when typing “people drive cars” – at least, not yet.
So the phrase is simple and unique, surely a good way to brand something one might want to sell. However, I used the phrase because of its connotations with people going on journeys. I may not be the most travelled person, nor have I been to the most places, but I am fond of journeys.
What is a Journey?
By journeys, I do not exclusively mean vacations. Of course, many vacations ARE journeys (those that are not are usually referred to as “stay-cations”), and not just because of the obvious travelling aspect. They require planning and some forethought as to where one wants to go and what one wants to do.
So a journey involves a person or people travelling to a particular destination for a particular reason, or set of reasons. Sometimes we may not know our destination or our reasons for undertaking such a journey. Many people reference the journey of life, how life is like a journey, though besides the destination for our bodies being six feet under, no one really knows where we will end up. The same is true for the reasons for our life’s journey. Some say we make one for ourselves, while others say that there is a reason preordained by a higher power (maybe God, maybe the government).
Historically, the word journey came from the French journée, meaning day, which came from the Latin diurnum meaning a daily portion. So the word journey basically means “a day’s travel” and also means “a day’s work” in reference to it’s use in words such as journeyman (a skilled worker who has completed an apprenticeship).
I like this meaning because a journey is a day-by-day account of where we have gone and what we have done. Our long vacations and trips can be described day-by-day. Our lives (if one was willing to listen to the whole story) could be told day-by-day. I think back in my own life to all the trips I went on and places I have travelled to, and see them all as journeys, done day-by-day.
My Journeys
Since I was a child, my family would go to a far-off destination each year, mostly by car. These road trips were taken in a minivan, with my parents in the front seats, myself and my sister in the middle, and my brother in the back. I was in the middle because I was the eldest child. I was responsible for passing food and drinks from the cooler to whoever wanted food or drink. My brother was in the back so he could sleep through the ride. This was a good thing, since he had a sensitive stomach when he was younger and long car rides made him queasy. My sister sat beside me since there was nowhere else for her to sit. My brother would not let her take up his sleeping space.
A 1995 Dodge Caravan. The road trip vehicle of choice for my family.
Family Vacations
I am certain that before I was 18 my family had gone to every interesting place that was an 8 hour road trip away from Toronto. Montreal, Ottawa, Boston, New York City, and Chicago were obvious targets. Niagara Falls, Algonquin Park, Sauble Beach, Muskoka, Sandbanks Park, and the Thousand Islands were other visited attractions.
As my siblings and I grew older we travelled further afield. We went to Baltimore and Washington D.C. by car one summer. After that the next few trips were by plane. For the turn of the century we returned to the Philippines, the land of my birth, many years since we had left it. We went to Disney World (as any kid should) and Universal Studios as well. Another trip to the Philippines was made the year after, though after that there were no more family trips since I was about to enter university and money would have to come from somewhere to pay for that.
Travelling Sans Family
However, just because the family trips stopped did not mean that mine did. In fact, starting in my second year of university I went to Ottawa, Calgary, and Montreal in the dead of winter, learning about the cold, chinooks, frozen rivers, mountains, and drunken all-night parties. I was with fairly trustworthy people in a fairly trustworthy organization, so my parents mostly approved.
My journeys did not stop after university; in fact, they were further afield. A couple of years after university I went to Japan for martial arts, the first of many trips for that reason. In fact, the year after I went back again with a few of my friends, but this time for fun. This was also about the time when I started taking my own photos of the places I had seen.
Kofukuji Five Storied Pagoda in Nara, Japan.
The Whole Gang Again
About this time my youngest sibling finished university, so it was time for family vacations again. There was quite a bit of sightseeing to do on the West Coast of Canada and the United States, so we went to Vancouver, Seattle, San Francisco, Las Vegas, Los Angeles, and San Diego (not all in one trip of course). And just because these places were far from home did not mean we did not drive. Using rental cars we saw Vancouver Island, the Mojave Desert, Yosemite Park, and the Grand Canyon.
I also did a couple of vacations with my brother, and those were quite fun. In two tours of two weeks each (not in the same year) we completely finished seeing Croatia and Ireland, with little snippets of Italy, Bosnia, and Northern Ireland as well.
King’s Landing, Westeros? Or Dubrovnik, Croatia?
And remember when I said that I went on trips because of martial arts and that one was only my first? Well, I went to a few other places for the same reason, including Japan (again), Chile, Peru, and Maine. Of course I went to Machu Picchu, and I also took a detour to Easter Island.
Just Me This Time
If you are still with me, you must think that I like to boast about my travels. This is hardly boasting. This has just been a list. You see, I did not mention my two most memorable trips. They are worthy to be called journeys. They are the ones people hear about with shock and awe and bewilderment. People call me crazy or weird or insane for having gone alone in the first place. However, it was not where I went but what I did that made them the journeys that they are.
In the winters of 2014 and 2019 I made pilgrimages in Spain and in Italy, respectively. In Spain I walked from the city of León, through the Cantabrian Mountains, to Oviedo. Then my real journey began, walking along the hills of northern Spain to the cathedral of Santiago de Compostela where the remains of St. James were buried. In Italy I walked from the town of Piacenza, outside of Milan, southward across the Apennine Mountains and the hills of Tuscany to the Eternal City – Rome. Both of these were journeys of more than 500km and took three weeks to complete.
The second day of my journey from León to Oviedo across the Cantabrian Mountains.
And My Point Is…
Both of these journeys had many days’ worth of stories to tell. They were the primary motivators for my starting a blog about journeys in general. The ordeals that I went through each day are stories in their own right, and someday I may set my affairs in order to document them. When I thought about those journeys I realized that many other walks in my life had been journeys as well. The 15 minute walk from my home to the local library? Yup, it was a journey (for a nine year old me). A walk in the park? Yes, also a journey (I found two new pets that day). What made them special journeys? I will tell you why, little by little, when I tell these stories.
So my point (and the point of this whole blog) is that we are all living our own lives, and going on our own journeys. We may think that they do not mean much, but when examined closely, could tell us much about ourselves and about the world around us. I will try to tell my story through my stories, hopefully sooner rather than later. I will also try to post some of my pictures online, for they sometimes tell stories better than words can.
My first ever post was about self-driving cars. I am not really an expert on them, and only have a limited interest in them. I envisioned a set of posts to bring the website’s focus from cars to journeys, but I have no desire to write about cars. However, I do need to express my choice of name for this blog.
I came up with the phrase “people drive cars” when I was 25 years old. I had about nine years of driving experience by then and just enough intelligence and wisdom to analyze how other’s drove. Periodically I would notice how fast or slow people went, whether or not they used their turn signals, and how they handled lane changes and other maneuvers . I noticed these things despite the fact I had lots of other things to do while driving, like listening to the radio, think about random thoughts, and of course, drive!
How do other people drive?
Does not look like anyone I know…but I see this face all the time.
When I first noticed these things, I did not giving them much thought. However, I soon began trying to connect what I saw with the people in the cars. For example, sometimes someone would speed past me on the highway and cut me off without using a turn signal or leaving space between us. At first I thought like everyone else does, that this person is an aggressive driver. However, my mind began the wonderfully human process of looking at things from another point of view, this time the view of the other driver.
Maybe this person was a new driver with a lead foot, requiring all his ability and focus to get their car where he wanted it, no brain power to spare to signal or check blind spots or notice how fast he was going.
Maybe the driver loved to go fast, and had no sympathy for the slow drivers around her, meaning everybody else on the road.
Perhaps he was very late for a meeting. It could be that she was herself cut off and felt a temporary surge of rage. The same rage I could have felt if I let such an action get to me.
Speeding to conclusions
Whatever the case may be, we quickly come to conclusions. We not only state how poorly that person drove but also about what they were feeling and thinking. And if we do that then we start speculating about what kind of person they are. And snap judgments about a person’s character from a fleeting encounter are not likely to be entirely correct.
I tried not to come to any conclusions from just one driver at one particular point in time. I let many encounters of all types happen before I started trying to piece some ideas together in my mind. This led me to the phrase “people drive cars”, emphasis on people.
People and cars
Cars are cars. Some are cool, some are expensive, some are really dangerous, and some even drive themselves, but all are tools at the mercy of people. People decide where to go, when to go, and why. For the vast majority of us, we put our foot to the pedal and our hands to the steering wheel. We make our cars go and stop as we please, as if they were an extension of our very being, though some of us with a bit more dexterity and precision than others.
Though I was able to develop this insight, the thoughts would not stop pouring into my head. Everyone on the road (presumably) has their driver’s license, but what does that actually mean? There are really old drivers out there who got their licenses when the requirements were very different. Some people learned to drive elsewhere and brought their habits (good or bad) to our roads. Distracted people, crazy people, tired people, and weird people are out there driving. Some of these people should not be driving. And yet, they are.
Bad driving with a good friend
I remember one night when I was out late drinking with a few of my friends. It was very late and I could not go home since the subway had stopped running. One of my friends offered to let me sleep in his family’s home, and I took up the offer. As he drove to his place we stopped at an intersection to turn left. So far so good, except the traffic light was green. That was a surprise. What happened next was even more surprising. As soon as the light turned red, my friend raced through the left turn! This was despite the red light and the few cars that had gathered on the opposing street. I went from surprised to scared straight!
I was odd seeing my friend drive like this, he who was usually quiet and calm. Maybe he was tired, as the hour was late. It could have been that he might have had a bit too much to drink. Perhaps it was the somewhat outlandish stereotype of him being Chinese that was the cause. But you have to wonder, even with all these issues (real or imagined or made up stereotypes), was it possible that he had a certain way of driving which made him susceptible to stopping at a green light and driving through a red light? Or was I overthinking the situation while being tipsy and afraid for my life?
Human actions make cars go
Since then, I have seen many more examples of human behaviour, both within a car and without. Though I still have much to learn about the human condition, I am aware that most actions do not have simple causes and thoughts behind them, leading me to always remind myself that “people drive cars”.
With the name out of the way, I hope to explain the connection between this site’s name and my topic of interest – journeys. However, that will have to wait for another post.
It has been a long while since I posted on this blog. Too long. And I can hardly call this a blog when it has only one post from 10 months ago and the site itself is incomplete. I have plenty of reasons for the delay, though the vast majority of them are simply excuses, nothing more. Still, perhaps going through the mindset of a serial procrastinator may shed some insight into the human condition, though I doubt it will illuminate anything not already known to you and to me.
Motivation
I did not have strong motivations for starting this blog. All I had was stories in my head and a succinct, easy-to-remember URL (peopledrivecars.com). I thought to myself, “I’d better use this phrase before someone else does.” This was back in February 2018. As of now, after a search for “peopledrivecars” (no spaces) this site is the 22nd search result on Google and the 1st search result on DuckDuckGo and Yahoo (excluding ads). My fears were unfounded, but on the other hand I did not seen any results from my investment and my efforts (as if either of those were substantial in the first place).
Despite the name of the site and the topic of my first post, I am not very interested in cars. Where I came up with the phrase “People drive cars” (emphasis on People) will be the topic of a whole other post. For now, it should suffice for me to say that if I have any sort of attachment to cars it is because of what they do for us, namely, to get people from one place to another.
Intention
Though I was not strongly motivated to use my blog, I did have a definite intention. I wanted to write about my personal experiences, specifically about travelling and journeys. Not quite a travel blog; more like describing the act of going on a journey, or surmounting obstacles, or the experience of exploration. Mind you, I am not some sort of professional explorer or traveller. My jobs (when I am working) usually have me in an office somewhere. Sometimes I do have to travel to an office in another city, but most of the time the travel is run-of-the-mill and there is nothing to report.
Though my intentions were there, I had poor motivation and strong procrastination skills. Let’s see why else it took me so long to write again. After my first post, I got lazy. Then I was laid off, which gave me a valid excuse to be lazy. After that I was just procrastinating. I did go on a two week trip to Peru in September, and yes, I did go up to Machu Picchu, but that’s a story for another time. I came back and got lazy again. December came, and the Christmas season gave me yet another excuse to be lazy. In February I did go to Italy and walked 700km in 19 days, but now I’m back. And I have finally posted something here.
What is coming up?
So if my intentions are to write about my journeys, what will
my actions be concerning this blog? Firstly, my next few posts will shift the
focus of the site from the item in its name, peopledrivecars, to my more
general interest in journeys. In the next week or so I hope to explain:
Where I came up with the phrase, “People drive
cars”;
Why I thought it was appropriate as the name of
a blog about journeys; and
What I think a journey is, exactly.
Hopefully this time my motivations will be strong enough to complete a few posts within the next week instead of within the next year.
