On the fourteenth day of my journey, Friday August 23rd, I trekked the final 16 miles and walked into the plaza in front of the Cathedral of Santiago de Compostela. As I walked in, by myself, not seeing any whom I'd met on the route, I felt a lump in my throat and a fullness in my heart. I remembered how the dream of walking the Camino had first come to me twelve years before and I felt overwhelmed with thankfulness that my dream had finally come true.
I also felt a bit of let down that no one was with me to celebrate. I asked a woman to take my picture and I thought of all those who were present in spirit---including you readers, cheering for me from the beginning. Part of the experience felt unreal-- like how did I walk all those miles in the past 14 days. But then I remembered how my body acclimated to the walking after a few days, the muscle memory of putting on my backpack and taking off each morning like going to work. Later, I would wonder how I'd start the next day without walking, how would I fill the hours? I remembered that expression "A body in motion stays in motion" and how important it had been to sustain that effort in my months of training; all that effort had paid off.
I didn't go inside the cathedral that afternoon. I felt it would be best to wait until the next day after I'd rested. Instead, I did what I had to do which was go to the Pilgrim's office to turn in my credential--or pilgrim's passport with the stamps I'd collected to prove I'd walked all those miles.
I got in line for one of the representatives to examine my pilgrim's passport and ask me questions.
The man was very tanned and told me he was from Miami.
"All of us here are volunteers," he said, and pointed to the other windows where pilgrims were presenting their proof.
I pulled out my credential and he looked over the stamps, asking me when and where I'd started and what my purpose had been --the categories to choose from were "Religious" "Health" "Personal" and "Other."
I felt my reasons were multiple and hard to separate so I responded, "Other."
I hadn't had time to look at all the stamps. The people who checked me in at my lodging, stamped and dated them and sometimes made encouraging comments. Lots of the bars and cafes had a self-service, self-checkout with the stamp on the bar counter. I would look at them more closely when I had time to go through my pictures and review each day of the trip.
My volunteer completed my Compostela, my official document and showed it to me.
"You get two forms of this--one in Latin and the other in Spanish," he said. "Here's your name in Latin, "Constantiam Riddle."
"I like that," I told him. "Sounds more interesting than "Connie."
He smiled and handed me my Compostelas, then directed me to the checkout to pay my 3 Euros for my copies.
The next day, I finally walked into the splendor of that Cathedral and felt the rush that pilgrims had anticipated for centuries. I thought about all the different reasons people walked the Camino. I knew that some of what I'd gotten from that ultimate Solo Journey would be revealed over time---as had been true for smaller journeys.
When I returned to my home, so grateful to be on American soil after 21 days away, so happy to hear English-speaking voices, sleep in my own bed, and drink a regular coffee mug for of a dark roast, I knew the Camino journey would have a deep impact in my life. I was still amazed that my 69-year-old-body had completed those 158 miles plus all the extra ones from getting lost 🙂
When I finally saw my boyfriend, he said something about wondering if I'd come back as a "different person."
My immediate response was, "I came back as more of myself," then I added, "But I have a new name" and paused, "It's Constantiam."
Blessings to You All,
Connie aka Constantiam
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