A little light lunch blogging

So, it’s safe to say that I’m slightly obsessed with the Camino. I don’t want to flood twitter or facebook feeds with endless posts, so I’ll do it here. 

Yesterday I joined up with the local American Pilgrims on Camino (APOC) group, and can’t wait to get involved and start really talking with people who have done it. At this point I think I could talk (or listen, or read) about it all day and never tire. I’m even getting up early in the morning before work to get more reading done. Obsessed, I tell ya! I wish I could buy my plane ticket to France now, just to be sure that it happens. Part of me worries that my excitement will taper. This can’t end up one of those things that I only talk about, it just can’t. I refuse to wait til I’m old to live. 

Kate showed me a song yesterday. It’s wonderful, so I’m gonna show you. Yes, it’s going on my Camino playlist. I think I have a playlist problem. 🙂 


On thinking of others’ thoughts … or not.


My book came today! The Pilgrim’s Guide to the Camino de Santiago — from what I’ve read, it’s the holy grail of guide books, and just about every peregrino on the Camino has used it to help guide them along the way. It looks too new to me, I can’t wait til it’s all beaten up and has been loved a little.

Tonight I find myself worrying about other people. In the insecure way, not the sweet way. Seeing the little tiny bit of traffic to my blog, and thinking about if other people will mock me for my passion to do this. (I know that’s not a complete sentence, but I’m not necessarily thinking in complete sentences at the moment.) I could start a new blog, but the last 8 years of my life have been documented here, in fits and spurts. I don’t want to fit and spurt anywhere else – Sha-pow and I have a history. So it will be done here, mocked or not, and I will choose not to think about what others think of my thoughts. So there.


…and because I’m having a glass of wine and listening to music, I’ll share the first song in my Camino playlist. I heard it for the first time today and it’s just perfect. Here ya go –


Buen Camino!


El Camino de Santiago is calling me.

I’m shooting for September 2016. Solo. 500 miles from the Pyrenees to Santiago de Compostela, and then on to Finisterre, aka The End of the World. I have lots of research and lots of training to do, but I don’t think I’ve ever felt compelled to do anything the way I feel drawn to do this.

From American Pilgrims on the Camino:

El Camino de Santiago, in English “The Way of Saint James,” is the pilgrimage to the Cathedral of Santiago de Compostela in northwestern Spain, where legend has it that the remains of Jesus’s apostle Saint James the Elder lie. The Camino has existed as a Christian pilgrimage for well over 1,000 years, and there is evidence of a pre-Christian route as well. Throughout the medieval period it was one of the three most important Christian pilgrimages undertaken. Indeed, it was only these pilgrimages—to Jerusalem, to Rome, and to Santiago de Compostela—which could result in a plenary indulgence, which frees a person from the penance due for sins.

Am I called to this for penance for sins? Maybe. Am I called to this for the adventure? For the proof of independence..or the the acknowledgement of dependence on God? Maybe.

They say that one finds answers on the Camino. I’m hoping to find the questions too.


Fire Away

“Now, talk. Talk about the things you really want said. Don’t tell me about your family, your childhood, your friends or your feelings. Tell me about the things you think”

Mallory looked at him incredulously and whispered:
“How did you know that?”

Roark smiled and said nothing.

“How did you know what’s been killing me? Slowly, for years, driving me to hate people when I don’t want to hate…. Have you felt it, too? Have you seen how your best friends love everything about you–except the things that count? And your most important is nothing to them, nothing, not even a sound they can recognize. You mean, you want to hear? You want to know what I do and why I do it, you want to know what I think? It’s not boring to you? It’s important?”

“Go ahead,” said Roark.

Then he sat for hours, listening, while Mallory spoke of his work, of the thoughts behind his work, of the thoughts that shaped his life, spoke gluttonously, like a drowning man flung out to shore, getting drunk on huge, clean snatches of air.

-The Fountainhead