It’s been an incredible journey walking through the stunning countryside of Spain, carrying with me a sense of wonder, bandaged feet, and aching back.

The Camino has been a celebration of life for me. I’m grateful to have had this opportunity. I’ve also learned a few things along the way.

How to walk in a group.

I’ve never attempted group travel. I’m used to walking at my own pace, stopping when I want and and moving forward when I am ready. I have learned to slow down. That’s a good change for me.

Improvise.

When there is no bathroom and you need to go, you find a ‘green door’. This is a term we use when we enter the woods to do our business.

Eat the same thing every day.

The Spanish food along the Camino does not vary much. My go-to is a simple salad of lettuce, onion and tomatoes and Galician soup made with white beans, potatoes and kale.

The kale here grows like trees. No kidding.

Watercolor painting.

Our watercolor guru extraordinaire, Brenda, gives us tips along the way. How to mix paints to get the right shade of green, how to work with shadows and background, and the simple basics of watercolor painting. I am hooked.

Daily writing prompts.

Our writing teacher Laura, gives us a quote and writing prompt each morning. One day as we walked in silence, her prompt was: ‘When I’m silent…’ ‘Silence invites me…’ ‘Silence can teach me…’.

I’ve seen the smiling faces of pilgrims from all over the world. We’ve exchanged the greeting ‘Bueno Camino’, a cross cultural way of recognizing fellow pilgrims and wishing each other well on our walk.

We’ve walked past spectacular sunrises and sunsets, forests and cornfields, rolling hills and winding cobblestone streets, ancient bridges, towns, churches, ruins, as well as sheep, horses, lazy dogs and friendly cats. I watched a herd of cows amble behind a rusty red tractor through the streets of Palas del Rei. The last cow in line decided to head our way and say hello.

This walk has afforded me extended time to explore my thoughts, which have run the gambit. ‘Where is the next ‘green door’? ‘Will my body hold up?’ But, mostly I’ve been in joy and deep gratitude each day.

I’m grateful for my life, the ability to walk through this beautiful country and for the new friends I have made.

My walk was cut short by a few days when several of us tested positive for Covid and had to leave the group. I am nursing a runny nose and dry cough. Other than that I’m doing fine. I am in Santiago, our final destination. The others arrive today.

This famous pilgrimage site is dotted with graceful monasteries, magnificent churches, historic palaces and beautiful parks. And of course, the spectacular Cathedral of Santiago de Compostela, where the pilgrim’s journey ends.

Our writing teacher, Laura Davis, gave us an interesting assignment as we hike our way along the Camino.

‘What do you carry with you?’

Outside my gray and red Gregory backpack hangs a scallop shell tied with a yellow thread so people will recognize me as a pilgrim along the Camino. I have a patch that say Camigas, representing female friends on the Camino together.

I carry sunglasses, my pilgrim passport, a rose-colored Patagonia rain jacket, blister bandages, electrolyte powder, lip balm, and Advil.

I carry the spirit of my mother along the way. She’s been gone for nearly 30 years. But her love is alive and well.

‘Casey, you have my spirit. Go out and have adventures I could not have’.

We walk through old towns and ancient villages, and visit churches where we have our pilgrim passports stamped. We walk along manure scented country roads, greeting the local cows and lazy dogs lying in their yards.

Purple heather abounds on these mountain paths. The sky is brilliant blue and wispy white clouds resemble angel wings. We walk up a steep stony path to four thousand year old Celtic ruins on a mountain top. It’s quiet except for the breeze through the trees and the spirits of the people who built the dwellings thousands of years ago wafting in the wind. We sit in silence to write, sketch or simply bask in the peace.

As we walk, we carry with us the depth of who we are and the people we love. We carry a stone from home to signify the burdens we want to release on this pilgrimage. We will leave the stone at our final destination in Santiago.

I pull out my favorite pink ball cap bought in Yosemite several years ago and put it on.

‘Be Wild’ the cap says.

I’m reminded of my mother’s wish for me as I step out into the road, carrying her spirit along.

I’ve been exploring Madrid, Spain the past few days. Tomorrow we take the bus to O’Cebreirio Pass, to begin our Camino journey.

Madrid is a beautiful city. Rich in history, interesting architecture, winding cobblestone streets, expansive plazas, two and a half million residents (the third largest city in Europe according to our tapas guide), a multitude of international tourists with backpacks and ball caps and 18,000 restaurants.

Did you know one restaurant sold 9,000 calamari sandwiches in a day?

It’s just overwhelming.

I am slightly claustrophobic in the middle of a big city, even though it fascinates and distracts me.

But today I found an oasis in the heart of Madrid.

The Real Jardin Botanico. Twenty acres of magnificent nature, situated on the banks of River Manzanares. The garden began as the collection of King Ferdinand VI in 1794. Thank you very much!

As I stepped into the garden, my nervous system relaxed, breath and heart rate slowed.

My writing group practiced watercolor painting as we sat under a canopy of trees. We will add watercolor sketches to our travel journals we’ll keep in our backpacks to capture moments along the Camino.

As we painted, the sunlight filtered through the leaves. The trees’ branches sprawled a dark design across the bright blue sky.

Silent. Peaceful. Grounding.

We walked through the dahlia garden on our way out, famous for their rainbow of colors and gigantic ringed petals. Their beauty inspired the Spanish to bring them back from Mexico to their home country centuries ago.

On my last day in a Madrid, I found a garden. I found silence, nature and beauty in a big old marvelous city.

My backpack and carry on are filled with weeks of supplies. Protein bars, blister bandages, Foot Goo, Advil, and chocolate, as well as lavender essential oil, which is good for everything. Should I add mosquito repellent? I’ve included a sticky-noted copy of The Art of Pilgrimage by Phil Cousineau, loaned to me by my partner Rick, a classic on making travel sacred.

The plants are watered, the laundry washed, the house is cleaned. I walk around and touch everything, making sure it’s all in its right place.  That’s my ritual. Putting everything in order before I leave. So when the door closes on the airplane, I’m disconnected from the tentacles of my normal life and open to a new adventure. It is an opportunity to leave my ‘home’ eyes behind and see with fresh eyes.

I know that my time is finite. Nothing like a near death experience to put things into perspective.

I’ve spent months walking, strength training and doing Pilates and yoga. I’ve gone through several pair of hiking shoes. Tried two different backpacks, considered hiking poles and decided against them.

I am about as ready as I will ever be.

Which means I have no idea what to expect.

I’ve packed a summer dress and a light down coat, a rain jacket and shorts. Weather these days is now more unpredictable than ever.

It’s a lesson in letting go and flexibility. I am open to what the universe conspires to teach me. To live in the ‘marvelous moment’, in the words of the Buddhist monk Thich Nhat Hanh. Exciting, and scary as hell.

Pilgrims walk seven main routes which run through the whole of northern Spain into Santiago de Compostela, the final destination.  I am walking the Camino France route with a group of women writers, all with our own stories. All on our own journeys together. May the universe gift us with wonderful lessons along the way.

‘The longest journey is the journey inwards’ – Dag Hammarskjold.

As I take an overnight flight from Los Angeles to Madrid, my journey begins. Now where did I put my chocolate?!

My friend and fellow writer, Leslie, sent me a message last January. “How would you like to walk the Camino de Santiago in Spain with me this September?”

‘Hell yes!’

My writing teacher, Laura Davis, was hosting a trip that had been sold out for a year. Two spots had just opened up.

In ancient times the Camino de Santiago was mainly a religious pilgrimage. Today, pilgrims walk the Camino for a multitude of reasons. It might be a spiritual or personal journey, social endeavor, getaway from the day to day, or just for the adventure.

I’d never thought of myself as a pilgrim. Adventurer, yes. Outdoorsy nature lover, hiker, traveler, yes. Spiritual, for sure.  Pilgrim? Not so much.

Why walk for weeks in Spain on cobblestones, through forests and small towns, backpack in tow?

Because I can.

Several years ago, I almost died from Cryptococcus, a rare fungal meningitis I contracted during a yoga retreat with my partner Rick in the Sri Lankan jungle. I spent almost two months in the hospital and had to learn to walk again on my nerve damaged legs.

‘Pilgrims are persons in motion. Passing through territories not their own. Seeking something we might call completion or perhaps the word Clarity will do as well. A goal to which only the spirit’s compass points the way.’  – Richard Niebuhr

My spirit’s compass points the way loud and clear. The purpose for my pilgrimage is celebration.

I’m taking gratitude on the road.

In a few weeks, I will walk the Camino. I’ll put one foot in front of the other as I experience and revel in the sacredness, wonder and beauty of the life I almost missed.

Each morning I’ll celebrate as I don my trail runners and backpack, deeply grateful for each step.