Life Lessons from Walking the Camino | Judgement

It has been walking alongside me on the way. Maybe I had unintentionally packed it in my backpack before I departed on this journey. One thing is certain, I wasn’t expecting it to be so prevalent and weaving itself into my Camino. Little did I know that it would follow me all the way to the “End of the World.”

Judgement, it is a theme and word I cannot shake. Yet, I see and feel it on the winding road that I am walking daily. I try to catch myself before I succumb to the unhealthy mindset and usefulness of it.

I started from St. Jean Pied de Port and met so many characters along the way. Each pilgrim had a story and purpose for walking. I didn’t judge them for this. I was dealing with my own baggage and was walking the entire Camino as a prayer of intention.

As you walk the way, there is an unexplainable thing that happens. There’s a daily ritual where the mundane gains enchantment. From lacing up shoelaces to hand-washing dirty clothes, every movement has intention and purpose.

The disconnect to the outside world starts and with it, it ignites the inner world on fire. The repetitive sound of shoes on gravel, “clomp, clomp, clomp,” becomes as powerful a meditation as the rich and pure Gregorian chants that echo in the chapels. The mountains and trees speak if you let your mind surrender to the silence. The tranquility of the quiet breaks with birds chirping loudly, almost as if they are cheering you on.

There is no doubt that the Camino de Santiago is a sacred path steeped with magic and healing. It is ultimately a gift of self-love. Or maybe, it acts as an acceptance of the chaos of life we can’t change.

As I continued on to Santiago, I noticed a shift within myself. I was writing again. The past few months I had been afraid of my words. But now, the words were flowing on the paper with a pen as I sat by the river or sat on Earth and stretched after my shower. My hands couldn’t keep up.

I noticed a change in how I walked across the Earth’s surface. When I took my first steps on the cobblestone roads, my feet pounded against the hard surfaces with force. The weight of the world making it tougher to put one foot in front of the next. Now, there was almost a forgiving grace in my gait. I was moving away from the darkness of my mind and coming back to the lightness in my heart.

The physical, mental, and spiritual essence of myself all coming back into alignment as I made my way to the final 100 kilometers to Santiago de Compostela.

Some say the final 100 kilometers to Santiago are the hardest, not physically, but rather mentally.

Hundreds of pilgrims start each and every day from thousands of cities and villages on the multiple Camino de Santiago route. All of the main Camino routes converge in the town of Sarria.

There is no denying that there is something different about the final stage. The way becomes more crowded. The rustle of wind in the trees is replaced with loud conversations and music. The large organized tours start from Sarria and the numerous restaurants and trinket shops are filled with groups of people. Some say from Sarria the soul of the Camino is missing and is not replaced, yet rather exploited for commercialism and consumerism.

I had been hearing veteran walkers mumble about the “Camino Tolerance” when referring of the final leg of the camino from Sarria to Santiago. “You now have to tolerate the walk into Santiago. Everything that was special is gone.”

Up to this point, my camino had been powerful, moving, and beautiful. Instead of allowing this mindset to creep into my consciousness, I saw this as an opportunity to get curious and be an observer on my process around judgement.

I reach Sarria early in the morning. Yes, I can see a small difference. There are more gift shops, the streets are noticeably busier, and there are many pilgrims sitting at outdoor cafes chatting with excitement. and the streets were busy.

I approach the Sarria signboard and wait for a group of young kids to pose for a photo. They leave and I sit and pull out my Camino Frances guidebook by John Brierley. If I remember correctly, he had written a beautiful passage about judgement. Now is the perfect time to revisit his words of wisdom around the subject manner.

I skim the book and sure enough, there it is tucked away on the bottom of the page.

“A reminder for ‘seasoned’ pilgrims who commenced in St. Jean Pied de Port or further back in Le Puy, Geneva, Budapest? Beware of signs of irritation at the intrusion of new pilgrims on ‘my’ camino – remember that many of the new arrivals may be nervous starting out and the last thing they need is aloofness built on a false sense of superiority. None of us can know the inner motivation or outer circumstances of another. A loving pilgrim welcomes all they meet along the path with an open mind and open heart… without judgement of any kind.”

John Brierley, A Pilgrim’s Guide to the Camino de Santiago Camino Frances, Camino Guides 2019, pg 246

I think back to my previous 600 plus kilometer journey… wow have I really walked that already?

I relive those first weary steps I took at the start of my journey, but I did it. And I still was. I was moving through it all one foot at a time.

I reminisced on all the characters I had met over those past 600 kilometers.

There was the woman whose husband had recently passed. He was traveling with her not only in spirit, but physically. I slept next to her in an Albergue and she pointed to her backpack between us and said he was right there in her bright purple backpack. My mind drifted to the couple that was celebrating their honeymoon by walking the camino. Their joy and love seemed to illuminate the path for everyone they came in contact with.

There were too many pilgrims to count that were walking to deal with sudden loss, grief, and battling the ickiness of deep-rooted depression. A smile came to my face when I thought of those pilgrims who had recently retired and were starting their new chapter with a 500 mile jaunt across Spain.

I didn’t judge them, not one bit. Could I continue this mindset as I moved with grace on the final 100 kilometers? I pulled out my journal and flipped back to the first entry in my journal.

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August 17, 2022

St. Jean Pied de Pont – Roncesvalles

It’s early as I step outside the Albergue. The moon is bright and bathing this medieval hilltop village in so many hues of silver that there’s no need for me to switch on my headlamp. She is illuminating the way and I am very much awake and ready to follow.

The mountain air is fresh and tiny dew droplets lightly kiss my face. I brush my hand to wipe them away, but my hands move instinctively to my cheeks and know that I can’t blame the moisture on the mountain air. There are tears trickling slowly from my eyes. Even before I boarded the plane to Europe, my emotions have been a wild rollercoaster of ups and downs, just like the mountains, hills, and valleys I’m about to walk with.

A few fellow pilgrims are starting now, too. Their sleepy eyes are emerging from behind the wooden doors. Their shoes clomping a methodical tune against the hard cobblestones. I find myself turning my head away from them as I walk by. I am ashamed that I am crying. Each teardrop makes me feel weak and vulnerable. But I don’t know why these feelings come, we are all walking the 500 miles to Santiago for some reason. Maybe it’s guilt, shame, trauma, reflection, or maybe like me, it’s all of them. There are too many emotions to process and integrate, walking is the only way to move forward.

But the first ascent up the grand Pyrenees Mountains comes and my breathing deepens. This is the first time I have truly exhaled and let the stale air go in over a year. The new air is making me feel giddy, as if I’m inhaling something besides fresh and crisp mountain air.

It’s a familiarity I’ve missed. Walking in the mountains, just me and my backpack.

The medicine is coming so naturally. It is not in the form of a pill, but rather, it comes in through my nose, with each breath in and out. It comes from the sun, which is rising and awakening so fiercely and bright behind the mountainside. The medicine is coming in the form of movement, one foot in front of the next. It is rising from the ground and being absorbed by the soles of my shoes and is reaching my entire being. In the silence, the mountains are taking away my worries and replacing them with relief.

How often do we forget that the Earth provides us with all the answers and gifts we will ever need?

I look to the sky and I can still see the moon, an almost full circle of white. She doesn’t look out of place in the now bright blue sky, she looks comfortable glowing in her power. I smile and walk towards her.

I walk with the word surrender in my mind, trust in my heart, and hope that my legs will carry me to Santiago, but even more so, that I find myself at the end of the World and bring her home.

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Everything is coming full circle the closer I get to Santiago.

At this point I see my walking companion who I have walked on and off with stroll up to the sign. He has been such a source of comfort and support and I beam and wave at him. There is no coincidence that we have met at this point on both of our journeys. I have told him everything, all the ugly things I am fighting, and he does not judge me for any of them. I am in awe of his kindness and can see the thoughtfulness in the way he views the world and others.

My journey would not have been the same without it. I have gained a big brother on my walk across Spain.

We sit and I read him the quote by John Brierley. We both reflect on it as we prepare to move-on. At that moment, a large group of young kids approach us and ask with enthusiasm if we could take their picture. I smile at him and we both know. Yes, we must now practice the words that just moved us both so deeply.

We walk for a bit, but separate further up along the way. There is a lot I am processing and I can’t seem to let go of the word judgement from my mind.

I stop in at a lonely cafe for a coffee. It is sometimes exhausting sifting through the endless contents of our minds. It’s almost as if the mind tries to make our simple lives so complex. I use the bathroom before I leave and look up in the mirror. I look deeply at my reflection and have an epiphany. Who I have been judging the hardest is staring directly back at me. I have been judging myself.

It’s true what they say, our outer world really is a reflection of what is going on inside of us.

I let my mind wander back to the past few months. I had let myself slip into a dangerous place and life had felt so heavy. But isn’t that the weight of judgement? It sits heavily on our shoulders if we allow it to settle so comfortably there.

To truly let go of judgements of others, I must let go of the judgement I have been lugging around about myself. I pick up my backpack and it feels lighter. Or maybe that’s just my mind playing tricks on me.

I leave the village and enter a small forest. The section is beautiful with swaying eucaplyptus trees. They are swaying in the sky, almost as if they are purifying and cleansing the way for me. As I go deeper into the forest, I see in the distance a huge tour group. There are many pilgrims walking in a straight-line, one after the other. I take a minute to observe them. Some look deeply lost in thought, while a few are giggling and laughing among themselves.

The way has given me so many important lessons. I know I will be processing and incorporating them into my days for the rest of my life.

Each one of us are on a journey that neither of us can understand, so who am I to judge any human on this plane? Judgement would give me permission to fabricate others stories and steal their truths from them. Only each soul knows their own story and purpose. We are all authors, writing and creating our own journey as we move one foot in front of the next.

So many of us each day wake up struggling and fighting things no one else can understand. The truth is most of us judge ourselves harder than anyone else would ever. I think back to the harshest most painful words that have been said to me, only to realize that I’ve said even more hurtful words to myself.

We must be kinder to others and that starts with how we treat ourselves.

Judging others simply adds to the heaviness of the world. People are fighting their own daily battles. Why would I want to contribute to their heaviness when I can choose to be a source of light?

I prepare to walk past this large group of pilgrims. I inhale a big cleansing breathe of fresh air. With my exhale, I let go of any judgements or preconceived ideas I have of these “new pilgrims.” I won’t write their stories with my own judgements. Why would I want to add that extra weight to their already heavy backpacks.

I walk past each pilgrim with a tenderness in my voice and say the unofficial greeting along the way: “Buen Camino!” The words mean good way or good path. And I truly mean it to every person that I walk by and it comes from the depths of my soul. Not only do I wish them a buen camino as they walk to path to Santiago, but as they walk on this journey of life.