Beginnings...

It's been said many times that a journey begins with the first step, but I think it really begins with the first nudge, the first rumbling somewhere deep in the spirit, the heart, that the journey needs to happen. This desire of mine to walk the whole of the Santiago de Compostela is not something that I've 'always wanted to do,' nor is it something that is on my 'bucket list' - something that I have to do before I kick the bucket. Rather, it is something that began ruminating in me, thanks to God's nudgings, a few years ago and wouldn't let go.

I don't remember where I first heard about it; I only know that I learned years ago that when things keep surfacing two or three, or in this case many, many times, I need to pay attention to them. It kept coming up in the oddest of places and times, like a distant bell ringing, as a periodic reminder, just in case I had forgotten (or tried to). After all, why would anyone really want to go walk nearly 500 miles carrying 20 pounds on their back when you could have a much more comfortable and lovely vacation with a lot less trouble? (That's the perspective of someone who is obviously not a regular backpacker!) My spiritual director, Mary, had suggested that I write down all the places I had come across Santiago, which I did not, but one of the more vivid, out of the blue, was in the middle of a benefit concert at our church, when Jean-Paul Carton, playing his hurdy gurdy, mentioned that there was a carving of such an instrument above the cathedral doors of the Cathedral of St. James in Santiago, Spain! That was about a year and a half ago. By then, I had already decided that the Hound of Heaven had persuaded me, in no uncertain terms to go.

But, and perhaps this is something that men would never worry about, from both a relational and a safety perspective, I wanted to share the journey with at least one other person. I wanted to be able to elbow someone when seeing something really fantastic and share the moment. And I wanted someone to be concerned if I didn't show up at the refugio that evening. So I started casting out 'Santiago seeds' ala Johnny Appleseed, looking for travelmates. And one day, I mentioned it at a meeting down in Valdosta, GA and Stella's eyes lit up. And then shortly thereafter, the very same thing happened with Mary, a friend, a centering prayer partner, and now my senior warden. And then Mary mentioned it to her niece, Lexi. And then Lexi mentioned it to her significant other, Josh. And so here we are. A band of five. Perhaps nudges are contagious?