After months of planning and weeks of walking, I arrived at the cathedral in Santiago de Compostela, Spain. My Camino de Santiago had ended — the pilgrimage was finished.
While wandering around the square with a new German friend, a man and woman approached us and asked if they could take our photographs. The man — Jesús Madriñán — is a photographer from the city, and he had been walking the Camino and taking photographs of pilgrims with a large format camera and analogical film. He would present his work at an exhibit titled “I am Light” at the Galician Centre of Contemporary Art in Santiago. We agreed to have our photographs taken, and he set us up on a small balcony overlooking the city.
Before he took my picture, Jesús asked me to reflect on my journey along the Camino and if I had any epiphanies. I tried to follow his advice, searching deep within myself for moral clarity or spiritual rebirth.
But unfortunately, I felt nothing. It was the culmination of two formative years in Spain after leaving the United States and an addictive relationship and toxic environment. It was time for me to reflect and find my personal Light — to understand the life lessons I’d learned in Spain and beyond.
But it was difficult for me to experience any emotion, much less enlightenment. I thanked Jesús for the opportunity and returned to my home in Asturias, Spain, and then later to the United States.
Months after, I received the photograph from Jesús in an email. My film was corrupted, and it was unable to be used in the exhibition. However, I could keep the photograph.
It is one of my favorite photos of me.
I look at the girl in the photograph, and I don’t see triumph, even though she’s been walking for days and planning for months. I do not see relief.
I am not sad in the photo. In fact, this was one of my happiest days on the Camino. I am resolute. I did not have a grand epiphany. God did not come to me, and I did not find Her in the forests, chapels or ancient pathways of the Spanish countryside. I am alone, and although I was given the chance to share the moment with a stranger, I chose to stand by myself.
I love this photograph because although I am happy, it also shows my numbness. It reveals the parts of me I ignore, hide and refuse to validate. It tells me: “You did it. You are living your dreams. But it probably doesn’t matter.”
I recently began investigating Quakerism, a form of Christian spirituality that also embraces people of other faiths and religions as well as agnostics, anti-theists and atheists.
In Quakerism, they have a saying that goes, “Move, and Way will open.”
Proceed, keep walking, and the path will open to you.
This is what I’m steadily learning. It’s OK to be afraid of the future and frustrated with the past. It’s OK to not have the answers or still believe that everything is burning and hurting, and maybe there won’t be a joyous resolution after all.
But, you’re going to walk anyway. You’re going to follow the arrows.
Way will open.
And the arrival is only a small part of the point.
At the end of the Camino, I did not find enlightenment, but I did find the strength to continue moving.
Buen camino, peregrino. Keep going.
