The Yellow Trail Pt. 2
When we awaken to the extraordinary and find our inner poet.
As I was walking the Way, the agitated pin to reach Santiago — lessened. Actually, the closer I got, the further I wanted to be because I didn’t really want it to end. What mattered to me most was that I had an agreement with the Ocean, and being by its side, on the western-most edge of the European continent brought me waves of both comfort and exhilaration. Some moments I felt guilt and I wondered why I was walking to this old Spanish city anyway. I thought about the land I live on and the immense stages of growth I was so far away from. I thought about rural and remote places in the world who do well without needing to do or know so much about the global situation. I thought about the unravelling social, economic and ecological situation and thought I could be doing something more ‘worth-while’ towards it.
I was walking barefoot on the sea-side, parallel to the many plots of farm land dotted with early-rising Portuguese men and women who were tending to their crops; when a small and fragile elderly woman approached me on the sandy path. She was awfully worried about my barefoot situation and offered to find me some shoes. She was also appalled at the idea that I was walking alone from her country to another. I ensured her that I was well and very happy to be doing the Camino in a way that felt right for me. She smiled and shook her head, grabbed my face with both her brittle hands and kissed my left and right cheek.
She blessed me and wished me well on my journey.
This is one of one thousand revolving moments that happened along the Way, condensing magic into the ordinary as we know it and reminding me that parallel to the activist me, the grieving me, and the doing me, is a humble central source that is nourished by simply
I mean being in a state of porosity
Where your whole entire vessel
is filled and informed
with the great grand theatre
that the world always is
How much of this moment are you feeling? How porous do you allow yourself to be?
When we stop to listen to the moment that is being stitched together- I can guarantee you, you will find greatness. I don’t care if you’re waiting for the tram and there’s some smoke in the air, or your work is right beside a fish market and you hate that smell, or forecast brought clear skies and here you are dripping wet from the tip of your beard- we cannot get away from the greatness that life is. The mere possibility to transform our experience through a sensual experience is godly and pure excitement.
All the cells in your body are dancing for you. Give back and shake a little, will you?
Traveling by foot maximized this porous experience for me, showing me the tempo of movement at a very primal and human scale. You can’t miss a thing, you’re in it and moving with it. Seeing the world one village at a time really soothed the harsh image of the current global situation that is in-filtered through us when we engage with the world-wide-web. It was humbling and healing to witness the ordinary ‘daily do’s’ being carried out by small towns of sincere and happy people. When I collaged all the parts together in my mind, everything felt well.
As change-makers, activists, system-thinkers, doers… we can feel the pressure for change erupting from our core as it simultaneously erupts from the many corners of the earth. We are holding great space through a transitionary period- a role vital to the new vision wanting to emerge- but do remember to also just glide. As much as you are creating change, change is creating you. To glide with the latter is to give appreciation to the other parts who are tweaking the big story.
“When we win it’s with small things,
and the triumph itself makes us small.
What is extraordinary and eternal
does not want to be bent by us.”
Pinnacles and cataclysms are not meant for us. Reaching the static goals that are pinned high in your mind will often not feel half as substantial as the journey that got you there. We are here to journey. What is extraordinary is the multi-faceted, collaborative momentum that keeps the whole show on the road.
Or in my case, a trail.
What transformed me most were all the parts that guided me to my destination, which was never really a destination anyway. What came through as I passed Santiago to go to meet the coast again —
Is that it’s not a time to walk to Santiago anymore.
We have to walk on the Earth with our bare feet and I don’t care your destination.
Walk to get to know your lover,
who actually holds you
no matter what.
We have to walk for the Ocean and the Water cycle
that is still shamelessly dancing
despite the stains on her dress,
caused by our mess.
Walk for all the things greater than you
that you remind you of your greatness.
Walk for the villages you don’t know about
that stitch the meaning of community together,
that light the flame
and gather around the fire
to show us an example of what it means to be…
We have to walk for our own self —
Bot most importantly,
for each other.
To be together
To find each other
In one another.
But don’t walk to Santiago.
Walk to the Ocean
Walk to your great grandmother’s grave
Walk to the bears and the tigers and the serpents,
and all the big trees that love to be admired.
Everything loves to be admired.
Take out your pens and write some Love Letters to the Earth…
It’s been a while.