They say the Camino starts when you leave your front door and ends... when it ends.
The Camino never felt like it ended. It felt paused, but in that crazed way. Like a horse caged mid-race. One day I started walking and just as things started to make sense, the world dropped off into ocean (Finisterre) and real life swung back around from the wings of planes. To apply all those things that started to make sense to real life meant a whole lot change. And constantly. But that's kinda the thing, isn't it? A willingness to evolve and fight for the minimums...
I'm still trying to figure it all out, trying to keep moving forward, so I know the Camino hasn't really ended. It's just continuing in another form on another continent in brand new shoes (!!), but still with the same intent.
A pilgrim would say to this: Buen Camino.
Plane leaves in the morning. (Eeeeeeeee!)
yo quiero updates!
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