Post Camino #4 – The Reasons for Pain

Posted on May 25, 2013 by Bill Bennett

I wandered into a church today in Tui – on the Portuguese Camino, Spanish side of the border.

In a small alcove there was a statue of St. James, with his staff and his gourd – and then I noticed he was pointing to his exposed right knee, which was bleeding. And then I noticed an angel was trying to heal the knee.

So even St. James had knee issues!! And he was the ultimate “true” pilgrim!

My knee gave out on me on the second day coming down the treacherous rock-strewn hill into Zubiri. So many other pilgrims I met along The Way also had knee issues. But many others also had problems with blisters, shin soreness and tendonitis, archilles pain etc.

Okay – let’s move into the metaphysical. Louise Hay. Some of you may have heard of her. Some may not. She’s a metaphysical healer, and author. Her books have become classics. Heal your Life has sold more than 50 million copies.

Essentially what Louise Hay says is that injuries or medical issues have an emotional or psychological basis. Knee problems, she says, stem from being stubborn and having an unbending ego and too much pride.

Hmmm – let me see… is that me?

I have to dig really deep inside myself to see if I tick that box.

Yep.

That deep search took all of 3 nanoseconds.

She also says that knee issues show a resistance to change.

Yep, tick that box too.

That took 2 nanoseconds.

I probably started out my Camino being stubborn, having too much ego, and too much pride. I’m not quite sure because my ego and pride stopped me from seeing that time clearly.

Yet, I can be accused of being resistant to change. I like to do things my way, the way I’ve always done them, the way they should be done. Which most times is my way. Because it’s the best way.

Ahem.

Ego? Nah…

Anyway, the Camino changed all that. Because my knee humbled me. It reduced my ego and pride to tatters. It forced me to be flexible about the way I was going to approach the rest of the walk, and it has since caused me to reassess a whole bunch of things in my life. In other words, it’s induced change in me.

My wife reminded me of a phone call we had when, she said, I was at my lowest ebb. She said that in the thirty-two years of us being together, she’d never heard me so down.

I was in Santa Domingo de la Calzada. I was in a huge amount of pain – from my knee, from excruciating shin soreness, and from a blister that had taken on gargantuan proportions. The substance of the call, she reminded me, was my utter anguish and despair at how I could complete the Camino. It seemed an impossibility.

I was very emotional. I’d set my heart on walking the Camino, but even though my will-force was strong, my body was thwarting me. Thwarting my dreams.

But, two of the most dangerous and destructive things in life are self doubt and self pity. I was doubting my capacity to overcome these physical obstacles. I was allowing myself to wallow in self pity.

My wife reminded me that it was just a walk – that I’d chosen to do it – and that of course I’d complete it, it was just a matter of how long it would take, and how much pain I would suffer. She also reminded me I’d done tougher things in my life.

I’m a film director. It’s tough directing a movie. Very tough. And film directors are, by nature, stubborn people. With egos. We have to be, otherwise our movies never get made, or they get made all wishy washy and without a particular vision.

But, the best film directors are also flexible. They see opportunities as they make their movies, they take on fresh and new ideas, they bend, without breaking. The best ones often subsume their ego and pride for the betterment of the movie.

The Camino has its own lessons for each of us. For me, I have to embrace change. I have to bend more. I have to be more flexible.

I have to remember that statue in that church in Tui, and that little angel trying to help St. James.

With his crook knee…

Post Camino #3 – Some pics from north Portugal

Posted on May 24, 2013 by Bill Bennett

Post Camino, I’ve been having some down time in North Portugal. I’ve also happened to be on the Portugese Camino quite a bit too – from Porto through to Valenca.

Here are some photos –

Just a Moment

Posted on May 24, 2013 by Bill Bennett

One of my favourite photographers – Steve McCurry

PC (Post Camino) #2 – Crossing the street to avoid the News

Posted on May 22, 2013 by Bill Bennett

Another Post Camino phenomenon –

I have no interest in the news.

Me, a former journalist. Me, a former news junkie. Me, who had RSS feeds from the major news sources coming into my every electronic orifice.

That was Pre-Camino.

Post-Camino, I don't care.

Because most of the news is what it is – journalistic chaff. Reportage roughage. Informational dietary fibre.

There are important breaking news stories of course – and informed well researched commentaries – but mostly, the news is not important. Not in the whole scheme of things.

I went five weeks without looking at a news site on the web. That's the longest period in my adult life when I've gone without the news.

And I didn't miss it one dot.

When, post Camino, I finally did check in, nothing much had changed.

There were some scandals at home involving a couple of high profile people, which the country seemed absorbed in, while I was walking across Spain blissfully unaware.

I don't feel my life was any the poorer for not knowing the details of these scandals. On the contrary, the Camino showed me how facile and totally unimportant it all is.

If I saw The News walking down the street coming towards me, I'd cross the road to avoid it.

Because I'd know that The News would want to grab me by the lapels and shout at me about all the horrible things that have happened lately, or it would want to gossip, or it would want to pull down the reputations of good people I admire.

It would be full of negativity and idle meaningless chatter. And it would try to pander to my basest fears. Fear of my personal safety, fear of people of different races, fear of change.

The News would try and rattle me. It would try to make me angry. Try to make me hate.

So I figure The News would be someone to avoid.

That's what I'm doing Post-Camino.

I'm crossing the road.

Post Camino PC #1 – Little Things

Posted on May 21, 2013 by Bill Bennett

Two little things happened today, that tell me something has shifted.

And perhaps, for good.

I wanted to get an ice-cream. A gelato. Lemon and chocolate in a cone. My favourite.

I'm in a small town in northern Portugal – Braga – famous for its extraordinary church a few kms out of town, the Bom do Jesus.

But this morning I was in town, and so I went up to this ice cream stand. The lass serving was talking to a customer, who'd already got her cone and was now gas-bagging.

She went on and on and on and on.

She could see I was waiting, but still she went on and on and on and on.

The lass serving also knew that I was waiting, and wanted to extricate herself from the conversation but didn't want to be rude.

Pre-Camino, I would have done either one of two things: I would have glared at the gas-bagger and said in a loudish voice – Hey, send her a text!

Or I would have cleared my throat and said to the serving lass in an ever-so polite voice: Excuse me miss? I am just dying for one of your delicious ice creams. Would you mind serving me when you're done there?

Or words to that effect.

Post-Camino, I was patient. And I started to examine the situation. The lass serving was obviously anxious to do her job and attend to me, and yet she didn't wish to offend her friend.

This I felt was an admirable trait in her.

And I started to think that it's moments like these that define people. It's the little moments. Her allowing the conversation to come to a natural conclusion said heaps about her, and me not losing it said heaps about the Camino!

When the serving lass finally turned to me, she had a big apologetic smile, and she gave me huge scoops of lemon and chocolate, in my mind, to compensate the waiting time, and to thank me for being patient.

PATIENCE

Pre-Camino, I was impatient. Everything had to be done NOW. I hated waiting for anything. I'd stamp my foot and purse my lips. And sometimes I'd even frown, sternly.

But the Camino teaches you patience.

There's no status on the Camino. No Platinum Frequent Walkers Card that gets you to a bunk in front of anyone else. No Personal Assistants to do your chores, so that you, the Exalted One, the Important One, has free time to change the course of The World.

Meals come when they're served. Your washing, that YOU do, takes so long to dry. If an albergue doesn't open its doors until 2pm, then you wait. In line. Like everyone else.

So today, I waited.

And I felt good about that.

The second thing that happened today was – I went out to do some grocery shopping for dinner. I walked about 2kms to the supermarket. While I was there, I reached into my bag for my iPad, and I couldn't find it.

I always carry my iPad with me.

I thought back, and tried to remember when I last had it. It HAD to be in my hotel room. So I slowly, and without any panic or sense of dread, walked back to the hotel.

(My knee is still cactus by the way.)

I calmly opened up the door to the room, and looked around. No iPad. Still, I didn't panic. There's no such thing as loss in the Universe, I said to myself.

I took another look around the room, and there it was, on the window shelf. I'd left it there while drying my undies, which weigh 75 gms by the way.

Pre-Camino, I would have rushed back to the room in a panic.

Post-Camino, I couldn't care less.

So I lose my iPad – so what?

These are just two little things that happened to me today, which tell me that there are big changes happening under the hood.

(Pic below is of Bom do Jesus, Braga, Portugal.)

You can’t keep a good Pilgrim down!

Posted on May 20, 2013 by Bill Bennett

Damn.

I have to keep blogging.

Thoughts, reverberations, echoes – deeper thoughts, deeper echoes, keep assailing me. Things I didn’t articulate. Things I couldn’t articulate at the time. Things I feel I can now articulate, with a growing perspective.

The further away I get from the Camino, the closer I feel I’m getting to it.

I feel I have more to say – with time, with distance.

So I will post once a week – on Fridays, which is the day I arrived in Santiago.

If you want to keep following, and you haven’t already done so, just become a follower and I guess there’s some way you’ll receive notification of a new post.

The next post will be in a day or so – and then on Fridays.

Also, when I return home I am going to look at turning this into an e-book, with photos. And I will use that opportunity to expand on various aspects of the blog. Blogs by necessity have to short, sharp and preferably sweet.

Mine was short, often sharp, but sweet? I’ll let that one go through to the keeper.

This Camino. It gets into your bloodstream and never leaves you.

Damn.

Camino Audit #10 – Why I walked the Camino.

Posted on May 19, 2013 by Bill Bennett

Two years ago, I started to think about walking the Camino.

It soon became a fixation.

In Mudgee, in the small country town where I live north west of Sydney, I’d go walking each day out into the lanes through the vineyards, and I’d imagine myself walking the Camino.

Sometimes farmers and vintners would stop and ask me why I was walking.

I’m training for the Camino de Santiago, I’d tell them – and they’d look at me strangely as I walked off. Back then, I didn’t know when I’d do it, only that it was inevitable I would.

People who knew me, people close to me, would rib me, believing it was a phase I was going through and soon I’d get over it. I never did. In fact, I could feel the pressure building. This inexplicable need to walk the Camino in Spain.

I read books, I looked at YouTube videos, I watched documentaries. I bought boots, I bought hiking gear, I went and bought a backpack and began doing 12 km mountain treks with the pack fully loaded.

I started to get fit. I wore my boots in. I weighed everything that was likely to go into my pack. If anyone asked, I could tell them down to the gram how much my undies weighed.

No-one asked.

And then one morning the dam burst and I decided on a date.

I made a booking and paid the airfare, and within a couple of hours I received an unexpected royalty cheque for exactly the amount I’d just spent, plus $200. Down to the dollar. The $200 would cover taxis and incidentals to and from airports.

Weird.

Still, I had no idea why I was doing this walk across a country on the other side of the world. And when those people who’d chuckled at me asked, I couldn’t give them any sensible answer. Only that it was something I just had to do.

As I began the Camino, I decided that I wanted The Way to answer three questions for me:

Who am I?
What am I doing here?
What really matters?

It’s been about ten days since I arrived in Santiago, and so I don’t have the perspective of distance and time yet to fully answer these questions, however I do believe in the notion of the Three Stages of the Camino – LIFE, DEATH, and REBIRTH.

I believe that I’m at the start of the rebirth stage. And it’s crucial that as I begin to re-enter my everyday world, I adhere to the concept of being a pilgrim, and making each day a pilgrimage.

If ever I’m confronted with a situation where in the past I might have responded with anger or conflict or disappointment or envy, then I must remember what I’ve learnt from the Camino: Humility, gratitude, need / not want. And keep on putting one foot in front of the other, and eventually you’ll get there…

Okay –

Who am I? I’m a story teller.
What am I doing here? I’m here to communicate to others, in a way that I hope will be affecting.
What really matters? As I said in one of my last posts, love matters. And truth. And beauty, in all its forms. Beauty is a function of love, and love is a function of truth.

Why did I walk the Camino? Maybe it was to do this blog.

So that one day you too might walk the Camino…

Thank you to everyone who’s followed this blog. In a month I’ve had in excess of 35,000 page views, which is quite amazing.

I’ll put up a contact page on this site, so that you can get in touch – but my email address is: pgstheway@gmail.com

I am considering doing an e-book, based on this blog and my photographs. And of course I hope soon to be making the film, PGS.

(We’re looking for money right now, so if you know of any investors who might be interested, please put them in touch with me and I can provide more information. There’s also more info on: http://www.pgsintuitive.com)

This blog helped me through the Camino. It gave me strength and purpose each day. It helped me see things I would have otherwise missed. It helped me consider things I would otherwise have dismissed.

Each day with your comments, you helped pull me up that hill, helped guide me down that mountainside. It was you, really, who gave me the strength.

So until the next Camino, my knee willing…

Bill Bennett – May, 2013

Camino Audit #9 – Walking with my PGS

Posted on May 18, 2013 by Bill Bennett

I started out this blog saying that I was going to walk the Camino with my PGS – which is what I call my intuition. My Personal Guidance System.

Usually, I'm very organised and I plan everything, particularly travel, down to the minutest detail. I don't leave anything to chance.

Not the Camino.

I was going to let The Way guide me. I wasn't going to plan anything. I was going to totally “wing it.” I was going to feel each moment and decide what felt right and what didn't, then act on it.

Also, I was determined not to walk with fear – fear of not having a bed for the night, fear of getting blisters or sustaining an injury, fear of rain or snow. I didn't want fear to stifle my walk. To corrode the experience.

How did I go?

I went pretty damn well.

To give you some examples: I never worried about where I'd end up of an evening, or if there'd be a bed. I figured out early on that at the very worst, I could sleep in a field under a tree. That was a liberating moment for me – to know what was the worst thing that could happen to me. Knowing that, and knowing that I could handle that, freed me up enormously. So then I didn't worry.

Invariably I got a bed anyway, and often it seemed to be the last available bed in the town or village. But still, I didn't have to sleep in a field. And if I'd had to, then it wouldn't have been a big deal anyway.

Later, on a couple of occasions I sensed that I should pre-book, and I'm glad I did because O Cebreiro for instance on a Sunday was packed. I walked 32 kms that day, I wanted a private room and I knew I'd be in late. Again, I used my intuition, my PGS, to tell me what was the right thing to do.

I can talk about how I'd allow my PGS to guide me to absolutely the right place to have breakfast, or the right albergue to stay in, or the right people to meet along The Way – but I also used my logical mind too.

For instance, I never worried about the weather.

A lot of pilgrims were very fearful of what the weather would be like the next day, or next few days. They'd watch the forecasts on the tv in a bar, or they'd often refer to their iPhones which gave them up to date weather reports. Many times they told me with foreboding that there was snow up ahead, or heavy rain.

I never worried. I refused to worry about things I couldn't control. If it snowed, it snowed. If it rained, it rained. I had gear to handle both. But it never snowed, and it hardly ever rained. I figured why get concerned over a weather forecast? The weather is so unpredictable in that part of the world, nine times out of ten the forecasters are wrong.

There were a couple of times I over-rode my intuition as well. The one I regret the most is not staying at the small town before Sahagun, and hanging out with Ben (the South African chemical engineer) and Boris. I would have enjoyed their company and learnt things, I'm sure. Instead I walked on and had a very ordinary evening by myself.

Using your intuition means you have to trust. I trusted that I would have a wonderful Camino. With good weather and trouble free. I had good weather. But I also had some problems. A knee that went bad on me a couple of days into the walk.

But here's the thing –

Two years ago, my wife and I were in Spain, working, and during that time I drove as many sections of the Camino Frances as I could. I wanted to scope it out, thinking even at that stage that later I might come back and walk it.

I remember driving along a narrow back road west of Sarria, through some farming land, and I distinctly remember seeing a fellow with a big knee bandage limping heavily.

That image stuck with me. During the intervening two years, I thought about that bloke a lot. How much pain he appeared to be in, how much determination he must have had to have come so far, and to be continuing on. Often when I thought about walking the Camino, I thought of that injured man.

Did I create my own knee problem? Did I manifest that image, that suffering, for myself?

I can't say. All I can say is that it was something I remembered vividly, then two years later, there I was – limping along that same back road, wearing a similar knee bandage.

You have to be so careful, because what you focus on, you can create.

Overall though, spending those 31 days letting go – having no control over outcomes – was truly liberating. I trusted that the Camino would provide.

And it did.

There are so many lessons I've learnt that I can now apply to my Post-Camino life.

If what Ivan's Italian priest said is correct – that the first stage of the Camino is life, the middle section, the Meseta, is death, and the arrival into Santiago is rebirth – then I have now shifted into my new Self.

And already I can feel it.

My PGS guided me to do the Camino. I'm not a walker as such, and as I've stated before, I'm not Catholic and not religious. But I did have a strong need to do this walk. To do this pilgrimage.

Why?

I think i now know the reason. I'll tell you in tomorrow's last post for this blog.

Camino Audit #8 – My Top 10 photos

Posted on May 17, 2013 by Bill Bennett

Here are my top 10 favourite shots.

They don’t necessarily tell the story of the Camino, but they are images that sing to me.

Following these shots, are a further 10 that I like…

And here are a further 10 shots that I like –

I’m only going to do two more “audits,” – one about Walking with PGS, and the other about why I walked the Camino. Then that’s it for this blog.

(Until the next Camino!)

Bill

Camino Audit #7 – Those that affected me…

Posted on May 16, 2013 by Bill Bennett

Here are photos of some people whom I met on my Camino, and who had an impact on me.

There are some others that I didn’t get photos of – like Boris, Renata, Meta, and some others too, and some whose permission I forgot to get, and so won’t post their pic.

Then there were those who I met who I never got their names – but their memory will linger. Like the bloke who’d walked from le Puy, and was walking to Santiago then Lisbon and back. And Pieter, from Holland, who I only met briefly outside Ponferrada but he showed me that walking could be effortless.

If I’ve got the names wrong, or the spelling wrong, please forgive me… But know that you had a strong influence on my Camino experience.

Balazs – from Hungary, who I met in the taxi to St. Jean, and who lent me his towel to ice my knee.

Laszlo – who was also in the taxi. The man most likely not to succeed, and he nailed it.

Rosa, also in the taxi to St. Jean – a beautiful soul…

The crazy Korean couple –

Balazs and Laszlo in Pamplona –

Bruce – a retired Professor of Veterinary Science from University of Southern California.

My Santa Domingo Angel – Estrella (she helped me with my infected heel blister)

Ivan the Terrible and Giovanna (outside Burgos) Ivan guided me into Burgos through the parkland, avoiding the terrible traffic of the main route in. He and his wife became my very good friends throughout the Camino.

Bob and Joan ( first sighting!) Bob and Joan, from Berkley California, also became close friends, and dinner companions. Wonderful extraordinary people – you can tell in this wide shot, right?

Here they are in closer view:

Emmanuel – an aspiring Austrian filmmaker. I gave him some advice on his career.

Soren and Francis (These guys helped me in Pamplona)

Rosa –

A wonderful couple from Boadilla –

Fernando (an Aussie) and the lasses from France and Romania.

Frannie and Lucy, sisters, from the US

Ben, the Chemical Engineer from South Africa who saw errors in the Universe. I wished I’d spent more time talking to him.

…. from the San Fernando Valley, California.

The Five Stork trio, from Australia. (These blokes classified the towns they walked through by the number of storks nesting in the church bell towers.)

A wonderful Spanish lady, from near the Iron Cross

The gorgeous Italian lass (Luana?). A bloke carried her backpack for her because she had bad knees. Why wouldn’t you?

Caroline and Francis

Caroline leaving Burgos – Caroline was from Australia too.

Andy and his wife Roberta from Newfoundland. Andy couldn’t see beauty in the crappy shack I was photographing…

Gordon – his second Camino within a year, because he felt he missed things the first time…

A Canadian couple carrying their 11 month old baby on the Camino. They started in Leon.

A Japanese cyclist I photographed on the Meseta. He wanted to know why I was photographing him, and I told him he looked like an alien. He laughed all the way to the next village.

Dwayne – a terrific bloke from the US who was very kind to me, and we became close friends. He was a very strong walker and would always pass me, then be amazed the next day when he passed me again! (I walked longer hours than him!) He too developed knee issues.

Catherine, a beautiful Irish woman who, through vigorous conversations, helped me walk 22kms one day without stopping!

I’ve forgotten the name of this young lady. She was from Finland, and had recently finished her studies. We walked for a few hours and had a good chat. Never saw her again. That’s the Camino.

Ivan the Terrible. You can see from this shot why his parents named him so…

Nayoung and her mother – they were from South Korea and we traveled some distance together. Nayoung was very emotional when she saw me in the Cathedral in Santiago. She really didn’t think I would make it.

Sigrid, a wonderful lady whom I met in O Cebreiro, then bumped into her again a few days later. We had some good chats too… and she took my photo at the 100km mark.