Camino Day 42: Santiago to Nagriera

Tu eres pererinato todo tu vida: you are a pilgrim all your life. So reads the blue Italian inscription scrawled across the wall of Alburgue Lua. It implies that one is always walking, seeking. It also seems to suggest that once you have been a pilgrim you will always retain that identity.

This close to the end of my journey, I'm beginning to think "pilgrim" is not an identity-- not a noun--, but rather a verb...something one does. To be a pilgrim is to walk, to seek, without knowing exactly what for. To greet the world and what life brings, to accept it quietly and thankfully: this is what it means to be a pilgrim. In this way, perhaps Alburgue Lua's annonymous scribe is right: I will always be a pilgrim, if I choose to be, if I live like one. It is not something granted to me but a constant choice.

Tonight, we chose to be pilgrims, to see life's troubles as opportunities for joy. We arrived during afternoon siesta, when every restaurant in town is closed. Hungry and tired, we decided we were not the only pilgrims in need of nourishment. We found a tienda and bought cheese, local cherries, olives, bread, and wine, and took it back to the alburgue to share. As weary pilgrims came in seeking beds, we offered them wine and food. We invited them to sit and tell their stories.

The crowd grew, and the food multiplied, and it became a party that lasted long into the night. Everyone shared food and laughter, and we all knew we were celebrating the end of our journies, but no one said it. We let that fact be present and silent, and sought only to enjoy this community of pilgrims, of open-hearted seekers, while we still could.

This is why we walk the Camino: to walk with others who seek the way, though we know not what it will bring.