On our last podcast, Kari and I were joined by Tom Stutzman, in an episode titled “Embracing the Minotaur.”

Tom opened up his life tenderly for all to hear and shared his journey both across Spain and into the fragile places inside.

One story that Tom shared was about walking the Camino de Santiago and how his trip got derailed by circumstances he could not have predicted or avoided.

Listening to those words reminded me of the fragility of any journey.

Here are some thoughts I penned on May 14, 2018 when I was walking the Camino across Spain:

LIMITED

Will I even finish the Camino?

For the first 9 or 10 days, I felt unstoppable. I was walking beyond the recommended stages most days and at a good clip.

I had been warned to not give into my hubris and so I tried to stop regularly, air out my feet… change my socks.

Then on day ten it started. The Camino is unexpectedly busy for this time of year and everyone is pre-reserving beds along the way.

On this particular day, I had already walked over 25 miles. It was mid afternoon, I could tell that my feet were getting mushy and so sore and my body was as tired as it has thus far been.

I stumbled into the next village after a long stench over a mountain, only…

The village was full. No beds. I had to trudge to the next.

The next village was also full. Now, pain and fatigue reduced me to begging. The Albergue (guesthouse) worker took pity and called ahead to the next town and found me a bed in what amounted to a barn.

I trudged still further.

After I arrived I did my best to tend to my feet, but a body is a system… a delicate system.

All systems are fragile: families, friendship groups, political parties, movements, churches… and there is no telling what will knock a system so off balance that it cannot recover, all it can do is fall.

I have been utilizing every trick I had been told and my feet just keep getting worse.

I have had to SLOW my trek.

I have had to accept my limitation.

I have even had to consider that I may not finish the 500 miles to Santiago.

And I am thankful for it.

No one is more surprised than I am.

I spent most of today’s tender 12 mile walk considering the gift of limitation. I have been pondering the opportunity that the “unknown” and “unplanned” could offer an ass like me.