A month has passed since we arrived in Santiago.
Life has gone back to the usual back-and-forth of commuting to the office, buying groceries, and solving annoying issues with the building we live in.
And yet, the Camino is still with us, keeping us company.
The memory is too fresh, and a refreshing one at that.
Many things can change in a month, both on the Camino and in life: such is the path we walk on this Earth.
Happiness comes and goes, our bodies recover and then fail us. My wife and I have seen it with both our knees during the Camino . Now I keep seeing it whenever something new pops up during a routine doctor’s appointment.
We’ve got to remind ourselves that there are only two things we can do and control: first is to stay close to each other, and second is to keep putting the left foot in front of the right one, and then the right foot in front of the left one. Over and over again, until we reach our destination for the day.
In 2013 I came back from the Camino with a heart full of courage, ready to take life by the horns and ride it like in a rodeo. Now, on the other hand, that feeling is somewhat less enthusiastic than it was a decade ago. Make no mistake, though, it is not less powerful or meaningful, in any way. This different feeling of happiness that comes from finishing the Camino in 2024 is special not because it’s the first time that I feel this way, but because I know it won’t happen again for a long time. So I try and savor it as best as I can, while it’s still fresh in my mind.
Is that for better or worse? I can’t say. There’s something charming about the naive confidence of a 20-year-old. Something that we often long for, when time goes by and life puts you in a different place. We tend to define those as the “good old days”, and to a certain extent they are. Still, I believe that this second, more “cynical” view of the happiness that comes with finishing the Camino is better grounded in the reality of our lives. I’m sure that these ones will be my “good old days”, despite how much 2013 meant to me.
Even as I get slowly get back into a “normal life”, I feel comforted by this thought: that now Laura and I have this shared memory to remind us of what true happines looks like. In the meantime, we keep walking. Into the unknown, putting one foot in front of the other one, keeping each other close.
And so it goes.