Sunrises to Santiago: Searching for Purpose on the Camino de Santiago (25 page)

“
Is
your spiritual pencil sharpening?” I ask Amy.

“
I
guess so. I hope so,” she laughs.

Everyone
we meet today seems to be dragging, too, as we are nearing the end.
By late afternoon we make it to Salceda, a small village on the side
of the highway. After checking into an albergue and scoring a
four-bed room again, we shower and head downstairs. I am surprised to
see our other Australian friend Blake (but no Aaron) and Sam the
artist from London whom we have
n’t
seen since just before Léon.

“
I
saw Aaron yesterday! I can
’
t
believe you guys caught us on foot. You are making me feel slow,” I
say to Blake.

“
What
did he say?” Blake replies.

“
Who?
Aaron?” I ask. Blake nods. “Oh, he said 30 days is a long time to
walk together. That
’
s
all,” I reply, sensing a fresh wound.

“
Is
that all! We got into a bit of a tussle right after we saw you.” He
is clearly angry. “It is so stupid really. We fought over the
bottom bunk at an albergue, and the next morning I woke up, and he
was gone. I guess I will see him at the airport when we get on the
same flight back home.”

We
make plans for dinner, and after a few hours of napping, we meet up
at one of the only restaurants in town. We end up sitting with a man
from Latvia whom I judge to be in his late
6
0s
.

“
I
am Henrick, nice to meet you,” he says while shaking hands with
everyone.

I
don
’
t even know where
Latvia is exactly, but as usual, the human spirit is the same. If he
makes it to Santiago on his planned arrival day, he will have
finished the entire journey from France in 23 days! This without bus
or taxi assistance. The man is a beast.

As
we devour some much-needed calories and drink ruby red Spanish wine,
he opens up about why he has walked the Camino de Santiago. He is a
scientist and is thinking about changing things up and trying
something new.
“I
am tired of the comfortable rut I
ha
ve
carved
out for myself,”
he
explains to the table. All of us are listening with our full
attention.

“
I
l
ove
my life and wife of course. I enjoy my job as a scientist. But
…
I
…
I
do
n’t
know,
I … .”
He
ca
n’t
seem
to find the right words to express his feelings.

I
know the feeling well and finish for him
,
“But
you
are tired of the same ol
’,
same ol
’
.
You want something more. Something that matters more to you. A
cha
nge?”

“
Exactly.
But it’s
different
for me than for yo
u,”
h
e
replies and continues on as we all devour fried potatoes covered with
olive oil and bits of
Jamón
.

“
What
do you mean?” Blake
asks.

“
I
am in a later stage of life and—” W
e
all shoot him looks of
you’re
not that old, what are you talking about
.

“
No,
r
eally,”
he
continues, sincerely wanting us to hear his point of view.
“I a
m
closer to the end of my life than you are. I am a scientist, and I
think about life in that way. I
don’t
care
if I am getting older, I just am. I don
’
t
fear death at all. I look at it in a factual way and, well, leaving a
respected job you have held for more than 30 years is going to shock
so many people in my life. Including my wife and childre
n.”

“
Yeah,
but wo
uldn
’t
they all just want you to be h
appy?”
Sam asks
as
Blake tops off our wine.

“
But
it is my identity. My job is who I am,”
he
replies in a sad, almost longing, voice.
“Is
it
worth spending the time I have left on this earth, my final chapter,
going back to school and starting from scratch with no guarantees? I
am supposed to be retiring and relaxing like all of my friends. It is
a tough decisio
n!”

Is
he crazy to change careers just before he retires? We all roll the
question around in our heads as we ponder his dilemma. I
think
again about the pencil analogy we heard last night. The Camino has a
way of helping you become a better version of yourself.
“I
think you should go for it,”
I
blurt out. The others at the table nod in agreement.

“
You
know, yesterday Sam and I met a man who is attempting to complete the
Camino de Santiago by wheelchair,” Blake says. “He is paralyzed
from the neck down and his friend volunteered to push him all the way
from St. Jean to Santiago. They have already made it this far. Talk
about bravery.”

“
They
had a cardboard sign on the back of the wheelchair asking for
volunteers to push for a while,” Sam explains. “So we jumped in
and pushed for an hour or so. It was so hard and his friend, the one
that is pushing him, looked really, really tired.”

Amy
looks like she is about to cry. “That is amazing,” she says.

Sam
continues, “The man in the wheelchair was in such a positive place
in life. What struck me was just how happy he was. You rarely meet
people who are so full of joy. He couldn’t stop smiling, and his
story was pretty amazing. He wasn’t born that way. He was in an
accident, when he was in high school and for some reason his body
keeps getting worse. But he is determined to make the most out of his
life. He is a world traveler and has been more places than I bet
anyone at this table.”

“
It
puts things in perspective doesn’t it?” Blake says.

“
It
does,” Henrick nods in agreement and then says, “That is really
quite inspirational. They are just going for it. Who cares what life
says is possible and what is not.”

“
We
are about a day away from Santiago. Has the Camino helped yo
u
come to a decision?
”
Amy asks.

He
pauses and then replies with a slight smile,
“I
think
so, yes. I really do think so
.”

I
recognize the excited sparkle in his eye and already know his
decision. Henrik is going to make a change.

I
find comfort in other people
’
s
stories. Listening to Henrik
’
s
dilemma, I feel less alone. Less crazy. In him I see courage, not
confusion. I remember the moments I knew it was time for a change in
my life and how terrifying this can be. My radio career, which began
with elation and the words,
I can
’
t
believe they are going to pay me to do this,
ended
six years later when I had the courage to realize it simply wasn
’
t
for me anymore.

It
was a Saturday morning when I had just introduced a Gwen Stefani song
to the city of Denver. I edited a few videos for the station while
songs and commercials played. I sat in the studio, miserable and
confused. The passion was gone. I had already committed career
suicide with my previous radio boss when I begged for a second chance
then turned the second chance down. A few weeks after that I turned
down my own night show at a big station in Denver. I wanted to focus
on videos and hosting this weekend show as a sort of test to see if I
could stomach radio anymore.

The
program director, who offered me my own night show, looked at me as
if I had stripped down naked and done the
Macarena
in front of him. “I
’
m
sorry, did you say no thank you? Do you realize what I am offering
you? This is your chance. Your shot at a major market radio job. I
have a line of kids who will slit your throat for this gig!” The
passion had been gone for a long time. I finally had the courage to
admit it to myself and terror gripped my chest. If I wasn
’
t
a radio man, who was I? We decided to move to Spain to find out.

Trail
Days 29—30

“
I
feel pretty good today,”
Amy
says as she turns to gauge my response.

It
is about 10:30 a.m., and we have already been on the trail for a few
hours.
“Me,
too.
I think today is the
day,”
I
respond with a big grin.

We
are going to walk all the way to our final destination, Santiago de
Compostela. I have a mix of emotions. I am sad, glad, happy, and
everything in between. Above all, Amy and I are trying to enjoy the
moment and soak in every second of the walk today as we make our way
to the end.

We
cross through forests and fields and over hills. We take our time
snapping photos and taking advantage of old wooden benches and
spectacular views. After hours of walking, we round a bend in the
trail and finally get our first glimpse of Santiago de Compostela. We
stop in awe to stare at the miniature buildings below us connected by
wide concrete roads.

“
We
made it!”
Amy
yells to the sky. The buildings looks like a collection of miniature
dollhouses down below. Somehow they don
’
t
seem real.

It
is a strange feeling to have been thinking about a destination for
the past 30 days. Then when you actually see it, you want to feel
elated. You want to have a moment where you cry and fall to your
knees, the angels singing and people applauding your achievement.
This, in fact, is what you have been looking forward to the whole
time. But as we make our way into the city in search of the famous
cathedral, where St. James himself resides in a silver tomb, I feel
nothing but shock.