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?!