Anyone who’s walked the Camino will know this – after you return home, weeks and months and possible years later, you get flashes of moments during your pilgrimage that, at the time, seemed inconsequential. Yet later, those moments take on new meaning.

That happened to me just now.

I remember walking out of Ciraqui early one morning, before sunrise. It was at a stage in the walk where I was in enormous pain from my knee. I was walking along a very narrow track, studded with rocks. An old Roman track. And each step hurt like hell, because I was treading on these big clumps of rock.

Because it was dark still, I had my headlamp on, and I could only see a short distance in front of me. But it seemed that this track just went on and on… It wasn’t going to end soon.

But then on the edge of the lamp’s throw I thought I saw a track running parallel. A paved track. There was brush in between though, and a big ditch, and I couldn’t quite see it clearly. I certainly couldn’t get to it.

I kept walking on this hard and difficult rock strewn track. That’s where the yellow arrows had pointed me, and they were still there, letting me know I was going the right way.

But still every now and then I got a glimpse of this level paved track on the other side of the brush and the ditch.

I finally found a gap in the brush and I climbed the ditch, and looked ahead of me. The track was paved. It was level, and it seemed to be running parallel to the rocky path.

But there were no yellow arrows.

I was worried that it might veer off and lead in the wrong direction, and then I’d have to back track.

So I went back through the gap in the brush and continued on the hard and difficult way. Each step excruciating because of my knee.

Finally, I thought: This is really stupid. The clear path must be a new path. It must be part of the Camino. So I found a way through the brush. over the ditch, and I began walking on the paved track.

Immediately my knee felt better. And I began to walk with greater ease.

After about a kilometre or so I saw a yellow arrow. It had been a new path, and it was the Camino, and all that time I’d been trudging along the rocky difficult path.

So this morning, it came to me out of the blue, (my PGS!) how like life that was.

We spend all our time struggling through difficulty, hauling ourselves painfully along a particular path because we believe that’s the right way to go – that’s the way we’ve been directed to go. And yet right beside us, within our sight, is a clear level path that we can travel on, without pain and difficulty.

But to get there, we have to believe.

And we have to overcome our fear.

(Sometime after my Camino, it’s still reaching into my soul and teaching me.)

I’m into my third day of my fast now and I’ve been invited to a dinner tonight.

My daughter’s boyfriend has spent the last two days preparing the meal. And he’s invited other guests too.

Here’s the dilemma – I don’t want to break my fast, particularly as I’m nearly past the worst stage, the first few days.

Equally though, I don’t want to sit around a dinner table and be rude by not eating. Particularly as he’s gone to so much trouble preparing the meal. Also, I don’t want to make a fuss about the fact that I’m on a fast.

So I’ve decided that for tonight, I’ll break the fast.

I could easily continue my fast, sit around the dinner table and only drink herbal tea. But it would be ungracious to my daughter’s boyfriend, who is cooking this dinner especially for me.

There are times when we can be too fixed and rigid in our beliefs or endeavours, and forget that we’re living in the real world.

I will put my fast on “pause” and continue it tomorrow.

I’ve been thinking of some of the people I met along The Way.

People I walked with, on and off, for weeks.

And people I met only once.

And it occurred to me that each person I met was a Teacher. Each, in their own way, taught me something. Even the rude people. And the arrogant people.

They were a mirror – a reflection of a part of my self. If I saw rudeness or uncaring or hubris in them, it was only because I recognised those traits within my self.

Each person I met had been put in my way to teach me a lesson.

As some of you might know, I’m writing a book on my Camino experiences, and I’m nearing the end. I’m at about 70,000 words.

Soon I’ll go into the editing and revisions stage. It should be done by the end of August, latest.

In writing the book, I’m having to recall moments I’ve largely forgotten – and one was a very simple moment. Of walking one morning, heading towards Astorga, and seeing distant snow capped mountains, then an hour later, looking up and seeing those mountains closer, then sometime later still, seeing them almost upon me.

I remember at the time being quite shocked by this.

That by walking, that by taking a series of small steps, I could alter the geography around me so dramatically, and bring forward a range of high mountains! It seems so obvious, but it really did have a profound effect on me.

And I began to think of the “power of the increment.”

I’d brought forward those mountains incrementally, by taking a series of small steps. I would end up walking to Santiago in a similar way. Whilst in Australia, before leaving, I remember looking at a map and wondering how could I possibly walk that far.

I did so, incrementally.

And now I’m writing this book the same way. Instead of walking each day, I’m writing each day. When I started, on June 1st, the prospect of writing a book seemed as daunting as walking the Camino.

Now I’m almost finished the first draft.

Anything can be achieved, if it’s approached using the power of the increment. You can become wealthy, by saving a little each week. You can lose weight, by eating a little less each day. Or doing a little more exercise each day. You can get a college degree, or start a new business, or paint the inside of your house, or make a beautiful quilt – all these things can be achieved, incrementally.

Sometimes the snow capped mountains seem so far away. They seem beyond your reach. But you can bring those mountains close to you, and you can climb them. If you approach them incrementally.

Someone the other day on this blog, an anonymous poster, cheekily suggested that my wife Jennifer had come up with PGS, possibly because she’s so wise and all-knowing. Which she is, that’s true!

But she didn’t come up with PGS. That was me, and it came as a result of something that happened to me several years ago.

My intuition saved my life.

I was in New Orleans working on a movie. I was in early pre-production, but had to return to Los Angeles for a few days, which meant catching the first flight out.

I woke up late, left my hotel in a rush and drove to the airport. It was dark, before dawn, and the roads were empty. I had to drop the rental off before checking in for my flight, and I was worried I’d miss the plane. So I was driving fast.

As I approached an intersection, I heard a “voice” telling me to slow down. I had a green light up ahead and if anything, my inclination was to speed up, to make sure I got through on the green and I didn’t have to wait for a red light.

But this “voice” was insistent. Telling me to slow down. It was very strange. I wasn’t in the habit of hearing voices, particularly not ones giving me driving instructions!

What made it stranger was there were no cars on the road, no traffic at all, nothing to indicate any possible danger. But because this voice, this feeling, was so weird, I slowed down.

As I entered the intersection, a huge eighteen wheeler ran the red on the cross street and hurtled through, missing me by inches.

If I hadn’t slowed down, if I hadn’t listened to that voice, I’d have been killed. 

I had to pull over, I was so shaken up by what had just happened. And I was confused too. What was that voice? Where did it come from? What just saved my life?

After the movie was completed, I started to research intuition, and I began to read of other instances where “voices” had saved lives. There are many instances on 9/11 – and others too, including the Titanic. And instances where people had attributed an intuitive impulse to a major breakthrough in science, in research, in writing a best seller, in a major sporting achievement, in finding a life partner, in all sorts of things.

And that’s when I came up with the concept of a Personal Guidance System. Something inside us, and outside us, that tries to steer us through life, to enable us to fulfil our life potential, whatever that might be.

I likened this to a GPS in a car – in that we can choose to turn our GPS on or off, we can have it running in the background and ignore it, or we can allow it to guide us to where we wish to go, avoiding roadblocks and obstacles, taking short cuts, taking highways.

Similarly we can choose to listen to our intuition, let it guide us, or we can ignore it.

This blog isn’t the place for me to detail PGS – however if you’re interested, check out:

http://www.pgsintuitive.com

https://www.facebook.com/pgsthefilm

Anyway, that’s where it came from. This “voice” saved my life. And ever since I’ve wanted to know what it was, and where it came from. And perhaps more importantly, how I can access it readily and incorporate it into my everyday life.

That’s why I wanted to walk the Camino allowing my PGS to guide me. And I’m hoping that in making the film, some of my questions will be answered.

I've just left Facebook.

This is a direct consequence of my walking the Camino.

Before walking the Camino, I was all over Facebook. When I came back, I couldn't bring myself to go on FB. Everything seemed trivial and ego-driven.

I'm keeping my business related Facebook accounts open. But my personal account, the one where I did all my activity and had all my so-called “friends,” as of twenty minutes ago has been de-activated.

And you know what? I feel GREAT about it.

Thank you Camino!

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???