50 Years and the Sounds of the Journey
Reaching 50 is a significant milestone, because I remember when my dad turned 50, he celebrated with a big family party, and his siblings gave him a centennial gift, a valuable gold coin. So, a little over a year ago, I began planning this big event to celebrate in March 2025.
My life was beginning a new phase. I had gone from “happily ever after” to “this is your new journey alone.” This led me to think that maybe a party where everyone enjoys themselves except the host wasn’t the best way to celebrate. I remembered a TV show I had seen a long time ago that talked about the spiritual experience of walking the Camino de Santiago in Spain. And then I thought, why not?
When something important is about to change your destiny, things fall into place for that to happen, and I firmly believe that taking this journey was part of my destiny. The first great joy of this decision was telling my friend Stephan that I would travel the Camino in Spain, to which he immediately replied, “I’ll go with you, because it’s a promise I made to my father before he died.” The reasons that lead you to the Camino can be myriad. The motivations range from physical, because along the way I met very athletic people who ran instead of walked; they can be aesthetic, because the landscapes that pass before your eyes are neither visible nor imaginable, but more so than in fairy tales; it can be more mundane, because the food you taste in the region of Galicia is some of the best I’ve ever eaten in my life. In short, or it can be, like me, one of uncertainty, of constant questioning, of hope to find a new motivation that would return me to the moment when life’s purpose had been lost.
When something important is about to change your destiny, things fall into place for that to happen, and I firmly believe that taking this journey was part of my destiny.
This is a short story, so I won’t digress, but I can tell you that one day, an ad for flights to Spain arrived on the cellphone, and before I knew it, I had already booked a flight for my birthday, in March, directly to Santiago de Compostela, where a bus would take us to the beginning of the adventure, the city of Sarria.
To save on the cost of the flight, I decided not to spend money on seat selection and allow destiny to give me the opportunity to meet new people. And so it was, the airline gave me a seat in row 52, almost next to the bathroom entrance, where I spent 10 hours chatting with a widow from Zacatecas and a tour operator who was taking 35 seniors on a tour of Italy.
But what I’m getting at with all this is that, after the obligatory conversation with my flight companions, the time had come to answer, “What takes you to Spain?” I told them, “I’ll walk the Camino de Santiago.” The woman next to me, opened her eyes wide, and told me, “I did it last year, and I’ll tell you everything you need to know, because the guide, who was the parish priest of her town, already told us.”
I remembered two things from everything she told me: first, that the birdsong had accompanied her the entire way, and that, when she looked back at the trees, she could never see a single bird; and second, that the fierce dogs that come out to meet you are the devil, who do not want you to reach your goal. Inside, I laughed at the thought of that woman’s naiveté, and I was finally able to get some sleep. To summarize, I arrived in Sarria, got my pilgrim’s passport to collect my stamps, ate like a queen, and went to bed early, because the next day the adventure would begin.
Leaving Sarria was easy. There are signs to join the trail posted almost everywhere in town, but they all ultimately lead you toward the forest, toward the interior of the mountain, toward the trail. We set off on a cloudy, rainy day, with strong winds and a cold, unlike anything I’d experienced in my hometown of Guanajuato, Mexico. It was only 4 degrees Celsius, much colder than what I experienced back home. The excitement, the cold, the hunger (because I hadn’t had breakfast), the uncertainty of being able to walk 22 km, everything invaded my thoughts, I can say that every step I took was automatic, my mind only said we have to make it, I prepared myself physically, I’m not cold, the rain won’t stop me and so on for several kilometers, until at one point, I breathed deeply, and heard, or rather, I was aware for the first time, of that sound that had accompanied me since my feet touched the earth and leaves of the path. That’s right, the beautiful singing of birds. And then I turned to look at the tops of the enormous trees and I saw nothing, and the more I concentrated on the beautiful singing, the louder and more beautiful it sounded. There it was, just like that woman said, and so it accompanied me the entire way, making my walk less heavy, and brightening every step I took.
…I was aware for the first time, of that sound that had accompanied me since my feet touched the earth and leaves of the path. That’s right, the beautiful singing of birds.
Having made that stop along the way allowed me to make my first great reflection on the Camino de Santiago, because the Camino isn’t just about walking, it’s not about reaching the goal; it’s a spiritual change and transformation that each person undergoes individually, and for me, the first great lesson was: You allow yourself to hear the sound of chaos in your mind every day, or take a break and focus on the beautiful song of the birds that always accompany you. And I think that’s how my life has been, my mind full of goals and focused on how to achieve them: my children, my work, my family; when true beauty is present in each of the steps I take to achieve my goals, in the small details of my coworkers, my students, my family, especially my children and my friends. That is the beautiful song that has always been there, but you can’t hear it because you get lost in the chaos of daily life. Now I’ve taken a break, and I hope to continue listening to the birdsong along the path I still have to walk.
Buen Camino! (Have a good journey!)
From Lupita: I am a Mexican mother of three beautiful children.
Chris’ note: I met Lupita, who I call Laura, in the spring of 2024 in Guanajuato, Mexico. We quickly became friends. I saw her again later that year and our friendship grew. I met her art class friends, students at her school, her children, and even her extended family for Día de Guadalupe dinner in December. I was able to help Laura celebrate her 49th birthday. I only wish I could’ve been in Spain for her 50th!