Are you suffering from post-camino blues?
Many people report feeling sad, alone and down after their camino experience. The initial return to daily life brought a certain excitement and an eagerness to share the experience with others. When the photos or slides are developed there is another wave of outpouring of camino excitement and for some the opportunity to give a talk to a church group or write an article for a magazine. But then slowly it begins to dawn on one that the camino is over. That carefree existence, where one's greatest pain was a foot blister and among one's greatest delights was photographing a snail crossing the road, is over.
And now we have to deal with all the usual problems and our loved ones soon tire of hearing our camino stories. And although we pilgrims console one another with the agreed-upon wisdom that the 'camino never ends it continues in daily life', deep down we know that something has ended. Feelings of loss, longing and emptiness begin to surface. Does this strike a chord with you? You could be suffering from the post-camino blues.
The pilgrimage to Santiago de Compostela touches something very primitive within us. Is it not amazing that so many different people have found meaning in this experience? Deeply religious people as well as those who are not at home in Christianity or in any other faith have had their lives transformed by walking the camino. That something primitive that is touched is a 'knowing' of the transcendent. There is something bigger than you and I, something bigger than us. Some will call this 'something bigger' God or Higher Power or Creator-Father or Nurturing-Mother or Great Spirit or Holy One.
In the Judeo-Christian tradition this 'knowing' is expressed beautifully in Psalm 63: "O God, you are my God, for you I long. For you my body pines, like a dry, weary land without water." When I first walked the camino these words came to mind often. As I walked the dry, weary land (or 'care-fully massaged the earth with my feet' as someone else put it!) I touched that place of longing and in that longing tasted the One who is the object of that longing.
"When I travelled, I saw many things; and I understand more than I can express." (Ecclesiasticus 34:11-12) There is no doubt that there is something sacred about the camino. Some will say that it goes back thousands of years to the pre-Christian era. The first recorded Christian pilgrimage to Santiago took place in 951. For more than a thousand years Christians have walked this route and covered the earth with their prayers. St. Francis of Assisi was one of the many who did so and he apparently did it barefoot! (That's really massaging the earth and being massaged in return!) Along the route there are many signs of the presence of Christian pilgrims these hundreds of years: churches with uplifting towers, monasteries, convents, hospitals. I was deeply moved by the awareness that I was part of one big pilgrimage, one big outpouring of that deep longing for God that is within all people. To arrive in Santiago is to experience that Oneness, one with God, with all people, with self. Is this not the goal all religious quest?
I believe that through these very inadequate words I am articulating what many pilgrims experience on the Camino. In some way we got in touch with our need for God and God stooped down to meet that need. Is it surprising then that when we come back home from the camino we should find everything else in life mundane and that all that one really wants to do is to save up enough money to walk the camino again?
What then is the remedy for the post-camino blues? The simple answer is to walk the camino again. But then, of course, there will be another bout of post-camino blues to deal with! Perhaps the answer lies in discovering that the transcendent God is also immanent. God is very near to you! He is in your heart! And we can make that pilgrimage at any time and at any place.
But what about seeing every new day as a pilgrimage? As we walk into each new day we are walking as into a foreign land; we are going beyond our experience. Live as a pilgrim, in the present moment, carrying only what you really need, leaving behind excess baggage, expecting nothing and grateful for everything, open to new experiences, aware of all that is! Then every road will be a camino and every stopping-place a refugio and those post-camino blues will give way to greens and reds and yellows!
Father Frank de Gouveia
And now we have to deal with all the usual problems and our loved ones soon tire of hearing our camino stories. And although we pilgrims console one another with the agreed-upon wisdom that the 'camino never ends it continues in daily life', deep down we know that something has ended. Feelings of loss, longing and emptiness begin to surface. Does this strike a chord with you? You could be suffering from the post-camino blues.
The pilgrimage to Santiago de Compostela touches something very primitive within us. Is it not amazing that so many different people have found meaning in this experience? Deeply religious people as well as those who are not at home in Christianity or in any other faith have had their lives transformed by walking the camino. That something primitive that is touched is a 'knowing' of the transcendent. There is something bigger than you and I, something bigger than us. Some will call this 'something bigger' God or Higher Power or Creator-Father or Nurturing-Mother or Great Spirit or Holy One.
In the Judeo-Christian tradition this 'knowing' is expressed beautifully in Psalm 63: "O God, you are my God, for you I long. For you my body pines, like a dry, weary land without water." When I first walked the camino these words came to mind often. As I walked the dry, weary land (or 'care-fully massaged the earth with my feet' as someone else put it!) I touched that place of longing and in that longing tasted the One who is the object of that longing.
"When I travelled, I saw many things; and I understand more than I can express." (Ecclesiasticus 34:11-12) There is no doubt that there is something sacred about the camino. Some will say that it goes back thousands of years to the pre-Christian era. The first recorded Christian pilgrimage to Santiago took place in 951. For more than a thousand years Christians have walked this route and covered the earth with their prayers. St. Francis of Assisi was one of the many who did so and he apparently did it barefoot! (That's really massaging the earth and being massaged in return!) Along the route there are many signs of the presence of Christian pilgrims these hundreds of years: churches with uplifting towers, monasteries, convents, hospitals. I was deeply moved by the awareness that I was part of one big pilgrimage, one big outpouring of that deep longing for God that is within all people. To arrive in Santiago is to experience that Oneness, one with God, with all people, with self. Is this not the goal all religious quest?
I believe that through these very inadequate words I am articulating what many pilgrims experience on the Camino. In some way we got in touch with our need for God and God stooped down to meet that need. Is it surprising then that when we come back home from the camino we should find everything else in life mundane and that all that one really wants to do is to save up enough money to walk the camino again?
What then is the remedy for the post-camino blues? The simple answer is to walk the camino again. But then, of course, there will be another bout of post-camino blues to deal with! Perhaps the answer lies in discovering that the transcendent God is also immanent. God is very near to you! He is in your heart! And we can make that pilgrimage at any time and at any place.
But what about seeing every new day as a pilgrimage? As we walk into each new day we are walking as into a foreign land; we are going beyond our experience. Live as a pilgrim, in the present moment, carrying only what you really need, leaving behind excess baggage, expecting nothing and grateful for everything, open to new experiences, aware of all that is! Then every road will be a camino and every stopping-place a refugio and those post-camino blues will give way to greens and reds and yellows!
Father Frank de Gouveia
