I’ve given some thought at to whether I should post this – because I don’t want this blog to be about me – there are many more important things to discuss!

However in the previous post there was some discussion about the photo Jennifer took of me at the airport, and how tense and uptight I looked.

So I went back and found a shot of myself on the day I left St. Jean Pied de Port. Then I found a couple of shots taken of me shortly after arriving in Santiago. And I thought it might be interesting to post “before” and “after” shots, to see if there were any physical indications of a transformation.

I think there are.

For a start, and I mentioned this in a response to a comment made yesterday by Sister Clare, even though it was an overcast day in St. Jean the morning I left, I was wearing sunglasses. Yet when I arrived in Santiago, on a bright sunny day, I wasn’t.

That’s just an obvious difference. There are others too.

So again, please understand I don’t post these shots out of vanity, but to begin a discussion about the transformative powers of walking the Camino.

By the way – Jennifer says my life can now be divided into a Before-the-Camino Bill and an After-the-Camino Bill. She sees the changes as being that dramatic.

Hi – my name is Jennifer Cluff. I’m married to Bill. And he’s asked me to write this blog.  And so I do reluctantly.  Writing and me are are not good friends.

First I would like to thank you all for helping Bill remember his spiritual self through this blog.  Your kindness in sharing your energy with him is extraordinary.  And when he reads out to me some of the responses he receives, I get a tangible reminder of how the world is changing in a most wonderful way. I find it wonderful that people are communicating and sharing their innermost feelings on this blog. People we don’t know. People across the other side of the world. Really, it’s amazing. And it’s wonderful.

I must state very emphatically that I’m not a Camino walker.  I have no desire to be so.  I love Spain, I love Spanish food, I love walking, I love walking meditation, I love being on my own, I love the idea of the adventure of an albergue, I just LOVE churches, I love not washing my hair, but I have no desire whatsoever to walk the Camino. Bill had a strong calling. I don’t, and never had.

When I said good-bye to Bill at Sydney airport I was so relieved that I didn’t have to hear about the Camino for at least 24 hours, until he landed.

He drove me crazy for 6 months with his packing and unpacking, his weighing and discussions about all that he had weighed.  On and on and on.  When I kissed him goodbye at the airport, I was so happy he was finally on his way and our conversations could be about the reality of the Camino rather than the anxiety of what may happen.

(Actually, my last memory of saying goodbye to Bill is this: He wanted me to take a photo of him with his backpack just about to enter Immigration. I took the photo but he wasn’t happy with it. He told me it was out out of focus and there was too much “headroom.” He wanted me to take another one, which I did, and he wasn’t happy with that one either. So I took yet another, which he checked, then another one, then another one until I got one with just the right amount of “headroom,” but it was still “soft.” If his plane hadn’t been about to board I would have been there all afternoon. As he disappeared into Immigration and I walked away, I really felt sorry for any pilgrim who had to take his photo on the Camino!)

So finally he was gone and at last I had space where Bill wouldn’t be coming into the room wanting to talk about the Camino. You have no idea how obsessive he became. No matter what we talked about, no matter who we talked to, Bill could weave the Camino into any conversation. But at last I was free of all that.

During his pilgrimage, I would ring him 3 times a day 4.30pm, 7.30pm and 10.30pm.  There were times when he was very distraught with his pain, and there were times when he genuinely didn’t feel he could finish. I would tell him simply this was something he chose to do. And that he COULD overcome his pain, and he COULD finish, because I simply knew he could.

For me, intuitively I knew I had to make the most of my time alone to go on my own adventure.  And this I did.  I believe everyday is a pilgrimage and with Bill away, I was given an opportunity to devote more time each day to meditation and contemplation, and so I grabbed it.

I never doubted Bill would complete the Camino.  What I did wonder though was whether he would be able to bring his pilgrim self home with him. Could he bring his new found tolerance and relaxation back to his normal routine?  Well he has! All I can say is that the Camino is a powerful force for transformation.

All of us are living through a time of extraordinary change. It is hard to stay calm while the world as we know it is being re-shaped. Without a doubt I believe that those of you who are called to walk the energy line of the Camino are helping to ease us all gracefully through this change.

Jennifer.

I really love my wife.

But I don’t know I could walk with her.

She told me to walk the Camino by myself. She said I needed to walk by myself. And in retrospect, she was absolutely right. I would not have had the experiences I had if she’d been with me. They would have been different experiences, not necessarily better or worse, but different. 

We have different rhythms. I get up early, she gets up late. I operate on 5 hours sleep a night, she gets grumpy if she hasn’t had 9 hours. That’s a differential of 16kms.

(4 hrs x 4kms/hr.)

Extrapolate that over 33 days, and that’s 528kms. In other words, by the time I got to Santiago, she’d be at Belorado. Not even at Burgos.

For us to walk together, I’d have to either sleep in each day, or she’d have to get up earlier.

After 31 years of marriage, I know both of us well enough to know that neither would work.

I saw plenty of couples walking the Camino – married couples, fathers and sons, mothers and daughters, close friends. Walking with someone else didn’t seem to impair their experience. On the contrary, it seemed to enrich it.

But here I am, starting to think about my next Camino. And she’s making noises about possibly coming.

I open this up to the blog: Should I let her???

A friend of mine works in hospitality.

That’s a genteel way of saying she works in a bar. Actually it’s a gambling bar, and it’s not very pleasant.

This friend is a very clever computer nerd. She’s a college honours graduate, but she’s taken up this bar job because it pays well, and she can’t get any other computer related work at the moment. For more than twelve months now she’s been saying she hates her job and she wants to get out. But there’s been nothing to go to.

A couple of weeks ago at work she tripped and fell down some stairs.

She hurt her foot, badly. She’s since been to doctors, podiatrists, had MRIs, the whole shebang. Not good. Her foot is damaged and it’s not going to get better any time soon. She’s not able to do her job.

She got her wish. She’s not doing hospitality anymore.

She’d programmed the Universe to enact on her wish.

Something similar happened to me. I was a young tv reporter, and all I wanted to do was make films. But I was good at my job – in fact at the time I was the best tv reporter in Australia. I’d just won the equivalent of an Emmy for TV Reporter of the Year. At the tender age of 26 I was the senior reporter on the highest rating current affairs show in the country. I was flying high, earning a lot of money, and loving it. But still I wanted to make films. Underneath it all, I felt empty. I felt there was more I could be doing with my life.

I was involved in a very bad car accident – I was a passenger in a film car that lost control and hit a telegraph post. The car was totalled and I ended up in hospital with severe spinal injuries and a smashed leg. (The root cause of my current knee problem.)  Ten days in intensive care, three months in the Spinal Unit.

I came out of hospital with the slate wiped clean. I realised that what I’d been doing was not what I really wanted to do. So I quit the show and I shifted into making documentaries, which in turn enabled me to later make feature films.

If I hadn’t had that horrendous car accident, I’d probably still be a tv reporter. And unfulfilled.

Unknown to me, I’d programmed the Universe. Sometimes if you’re comfy in what you’re doing, the Universe picks you up by the lapels and slaps you around the face. It wakes you up to your true purpose. To what you really want. Sometimes its methods are brutal, and ugly.

But hey, you asked for it…

You’re never too old to walk the Camino.

I wrote about this during my walk – The Camino is full of OLD PEOPLE!

Day 29 – The Camino is full of OLD PEOPLE.

There was a lovely comment/post the other day from a fellow who was 68 who spent 49 days walking the Camino with his wife – and they had a tremendous time. And it occurred to me that it would be great to look at this again –

What astonishes me is that people in their 60s and 70s leave the comfort of their homes and battle the elements, and any health or past injury issues they might have, and hike up and down mountains, staying in basic dorm style accommodation, carrying heavy back packs, as they walk this ancient pilgrimage route.

Walking the Camino is not easy. It’s not easy for a young person. It’s not easy for someone fit and strong. Much less someone in their 60s and 70s.

And yet I hear stories, and I’ve personally witnessed, pilgrims in their 70s leaving the young kids behind – walking longer, walking stronger, and with more determination.

On my Camino, when I think back on those that took buses, trains, and taxis, invariably it was the young ‘uns. A lovely fellow called Bob, himself in his late 60s, said the older folk have determination and grit. That’s what keeps them going.

It it a generational thing? Do the Gen Y kids lack determination and focus?

Mind you, I met a fellow in his thirties – he’d walked from Le Puy – and he was nailing it. Walking 35-40km each day effortlessly. So it’s not fair to make generalisations about generations!

I heard amazing stories of handicapped people doing the Camino, of people in their 80s, and also of those who’d suffered some dreadful personal tragedy which in its own way would be crippling.

What enables these people to do this most arduous of walks?

It’s the spirit of the Camino that I believe infuses them with something quite magical. It restores their strength. It gives them courage each day. It makes them younger.

It makes them capable of things they would never think possible.

You’re never too old to walk the Camino, and I would add to that – you’re never too infirm, either.

(below is a photo I took at Lourdes – an ancient source of restorative water…)

Some of you might think you have things to learn from me.

Perhaps you do, but I have more things to learn from you.

Every person who posts on this blog, I learn from. In responding to posts, I learn. In observing interchanges between you, I learn. From Sister Clare, I learn. From Steve, I learn. I learn from all of you.

Each of you is a teacher – my teacher.

The Camino was the big teacher. And its lessons continue from afar.

Some of those lessons continue through you.

So thank you.

Bill

Walking the Camino is like having a baby.

So they tell me.

When a woman has a baby, she gets infused with an extraordinary energy. The same thing happens when you walk the Camino. The energy infusion begins from the moment you decide to do the pilgrimage. The energy builds with the anticipation, and the expectation, of the walk.

And then when you’re there, and you’re finally actually walking the Camino, energy seeps into you with every step along The Way, from the soul imprint of everyone who has trodden that path before.

Every pilgrim who walks the Camino leaves a residue of their soul with each step they take. More on that from a past post here –

(https://pgstheway.com/2013/04/19/day-10-rest-reflection/)

But also you’re also energised by other pilgrims.  It’s a collective experience. Your energy joins with theirs, theirs with yours. So when you finish the Camino, when you get to Santiago, you expect a big payday. You expect fireworks and The Answers to the Big Questions.

Instead, often all you get is a vague sense of nothingness.

Is that it? I’ve walked all this way, and all I get is a sheet of paper? 

This is why the Pilgrim’s Mass is so well attended, I’m sure. Not because everyone who attends that Mass is a Catholic, or that they actually want to take Mass, but because these pilgrims are seeking a moment of closure. They were hoping that the end of the Camino would deliver them something for all that effort, all that pain. They were looking forward to something wonderful at the end of their journey.

What they don’t realise is that something wonderful was in each step they took, not in the final step. 

Women sometimes go into a big slump after they’ve given birth. Post Natal Depression. They’ve lived with that energy flow within them for nine months, and then the baby is born. That energy now resides in the life of that new child. It’s been transferred from the mother.

But at least with birth, you end up with a baby. With the Camino, you’ve got nothing, other than a Compostela and a bunch of memories.

I think this is why a lot of people go on to Finisterre – because Santiago wasn’t enough. They’re still looking for that something wonderful. For that big Full Stop to this long sentence they’ve been writing on their soul, and maybe coming to the End of the World will be that full stop.

When you walk the Camino, you have to understand that there’s a strong possibility that it will end in a whimper, not a wail. So you have to have a plan. Sometimes that plan is to do it again. Sometimes the plan is to simply acknowledge that’s how it will be. Anti-climactic.

You can plan to keep the Camino with you every day. You’re not only a pilgrim when you’re walking in Spain. You can choose to be a pilgrim afterwards, too. Wherever you are, whatever you’re doing.

Remember, the something wonderful isn’t at the end, it’s in every step you take.

I’ve just noticed that this blog has now attracted more than 2000 comments.

As of 11am Sydney time, it was 2002, to be exact!

Yesterday, Sister Clare’s post (PC#25 – Something a little different), attracted 71 comments. That’s pretty healthy activity, given that this blog is just a word-of-mouth site.

So thank you, to all of you, who are contributing to make this a place of vigorous and fascinating discussion. It’s a nicely tight knit community we’ve got going here!

Bill

To all those in North America, happy July 4th!

I hope you all are having a great day – with your families, loved ones, relaxing, going to the movies, watching TV, walking in the woods, training for the Camino, whatever it is you're doing.

Rest days are as important as work days.

Your body and your mind need time out to rejuvenate. To take stock of what you've been doing, what you've achieved, perhaps what you've missed out on, perhaps what you've suffered.

Just as we can't keep going without sleep, nor can we keep going without rest. In sleep we need to dream, in rest we need to contemplate.

I learnt this on the Camino.

Some pilgrims thought it was an achievement to walk to Santiago without taking a rest day. Perhaps physically it was within their capability. But what about spiritually?

Sometimes you need to stop, to let your soul catch up to your body.

Firstly, I’d like to thank Sister Clare for handling the blog so wonderfully while I enjoyed my wedding anniversary with my wife. Sister Clare’s choice of topic raised a lot of comment, and she moderated with her usual dollops of insight and wisdom.

Thank you Sister.

The title of today’s post refers to the four central tenant of PGS – which is how I walked the Camino. I walked the Camino intuitively, using what I call my Personal Guidance System.

If we’re to access our PGS – our intuition – then we have to Stop, Listen, Trust, and Follow.

Sounds simple, but it’s so hard to do.

Stop: In this world that we live in now, it’s really hard to stop. We have so many demands on our time, so many distractions. To find a time each day to stop requires effort, and discipline. But you can only begin to listen to your inner voice if you stop.

Listen: We’re surrounded by chatter. Visual and aural chatter. It’s everywhere. It’s noise. And we’ve become so used to it that we’re often not even aware of it. How can we hear our intuition trying to speak to us if it’s drowned out by all this incessant chatter? We have to rid ourselves of this cacophony, so we can truly listen.

Trust: This is a hard one. You might get an intuitive insight. A calling to do something. But it means stepping out over the ledge. Trusting there will be a safety net underneath if you jump. Trouble is, you can’t see the safety net. Trusting your PGS, your inner voice, takes enormous courage sometimes. But its essential if you want to reap the benefits that your intuition wishes to bestow on you.

Follow: You’ve stopped, you’ve listened, you’ve made up your mind to trust, and now you have to actually DO it. That too is hard. Your intuition won’t hand it to you on a plate. You have to go out and make it happen. This is not about pasting $100 bills on your bedroom ceiling and dreaming that you’ll become wealthy. This is about trusting what you’ve heard from your PGS, then following your guide. Your guide only wants to steer you in the right direction.

It’s not always direct though. Take the guy that follows his intuition and he goes bankrupt. He rails against the whole notion of following your “gut.” He’s out of a job, he’s lost his house, he’s broke. But now he’s got time on his hands so he sits down and writes the novel he’s always wanted to write. And it becomes a best seller. He becomes enormously wealthy.

He wouldn’t have written that novel, he would never had had the time or the motivation, if he hadn’t gone broke. If he hadn’t followed his intuition. It’s not always a direct and logical path.

In the book I’m currently writing, which I’m titling The Camino – the Intuitive Way, I detail how I used my PGS each day of my walk. Invariably things worked out – but it wasn’t always easy, and there were times when things didn’t work out.

Those were the times I didn’t Listen, and Trust.