I am a “yes” kind of girl. I feel a tenacious pull to be a part of any and all plans. I am a “good story” addict and have always felt committed to living a bigger life than was prescribed for me. So, when my friend D suggested, after 2 full bottles of wine on New Year’s Day 2021, that she wanted to fulfill her lifelong dream of walking the Camino de Santiago in Spain, I invited myself along.

Had I heard of this ancient and sacred pilgrimage? No.

Am I athletic? Not really, but I bring an enthusiastic mediocrity that makes me delusional (and amnesic) enough to keep signing up for athletic pursuits.

I mean…. I practice yoga, was a former cross-country runner, and I had that one brief season trying water polo that was as ridiculous as it sounds.

“But, it’s like, walking, right? I mean, I have been walking since I was 2 years old, so how hard can that be?”

D explained that she had friends who had been talking and planning to go together for a long time, but never committed. Her “tribe,” she calls them. <The codependent need to fix, save, and help: activated> They seemed to lack the knee-jerk reactivity that every friendship needs – the “get off your tookus and do it” kind of friend. The “what’s the worst that can happen?” kind of friend. (which, is an actual motto I have operated under since college, when a professor made us create and then defend a life motto of our own.) So here I was, too numb and too dumb to realize what I was signing myself up for. All I knew, is that I needed to have this be a part of my story. And we booked $460 Round-trip tickets from SFO to Lisbon. Again, what’s the worst that can happen? I mean, we had just climbed out of the Satan’s anus that was 2020. It was the evening of January 1st, 2021. All things were possible. It’s just walking.

I climbed into bed with my husband and said “I bought a plane ticket to Lisbon and D and I are doing a long walk this summer. You will have the kids.”

Another thing that played a role in my immediate “yes” was that I am a recovering codependent. I have a sickening obsession with people pleasing, a crippling distrust of self, and the tendency to anticipate others’ needs as a way to either “show them” how I need to be treated in reciprocity (which really is a good way to disappoint yourself) or manipulate the relationship so that I am not disposable. D was actually the friend who took me to my first meeting after my 10-year marriage failed (word choice??) and I was left with an infant, preschooler, and 2nd grader to raise. That was 2 years prior, and I was healthier. I was doing the steps, reading books, finding boundaries (a tad) less scary, and living independently. The CoDa journey became my framework.

In CoDA, there are 12 promises, just like in other step programs. I wasn’t addicted to a substance, but I was addicted to people, places, and things – anything to not be alone with myself, to not name the feelings or feel responsible for the self-sabotage that crept up inevitably every time I abandoned myself for the happiness of others. We were traveling/walking for 12 days. So I committed one day to each promise:

• I know a new sense of belonging. The feeling of emptiness and loneliness will disappear.
• I am no longer controlled by my fears. I overcome my fears and act with courage, integrity and dignity.
• I know a new freedom.
• I release myself from worry, guilt, and regret about my past and present. I am aware enough not to repeat it.
• I know a new love and acceptance of myself and others. I feel genuinely lovable, loving and loved.
• I learn to see myself as equal to others. My new and renewed relationships are all with equal partners.
• I am capable of developing and maintaining healthy and loving relationships. The need to control and manipulate others will disappear as I learn to trust those who are trustworthy.
• I learn that it is possible to mend – to become more loving, intimate and supportive. I have the choice of communicating with my family in a way which is safe for me and respectful of them.
• I acknowledge that I am a unique and precious creation.
• I no longer need to rely solely on others to provide my sense of worth.
• I trust the guidance I receive from my Higher Power and come to believe in my own capabilities.
• I gradually experience serenity, strength, and spiritual growth in my daily life.

These were going to be my guide posts. By July 22, the day after my 38th birthday, we would be leaving. Multiple COVID tests in hand. A vaccination newly implanted. And some hiking shoes bought just for the occasion.

Months of prep.

Reading. Planning.

Researching. Buying.

Talking. Walking.

We left early in the morning for Europe to begin our spiritual journey. She was just ending a marriage. I had just remarried. We were walking together, but in different worlds and for different reasons. We would be tesing our bodies, our minds, our friendship to walk 100+ miles between Porto, Portugal and Santiago de Compostela, Spain.

In the days leading up to the departure, I had questioned my motivation and readiness. I had tried to pin-point the “why” that set this plan in motion.

*They* all say you need a “why?” Why? Always why?

Why leave my family and home?

Why now?

Why leave to do this work?

Why try?

I didn’t have anything resembling an answer to any of these, even as we arrived at SFO. I didn’t have anything yet, but I knew cleansing needed to happen. There was a distillation (which was my word for 2020) that would occur when my footsteps hit the road. They would pound one trauma out at a time. Burning off and leaving only purity behind. I was making room for God to meet me. Cleaning out the basement, the attic, the storage of my cluttered mind and scarred heart. I was making room for the rest of my life to take up space where I previously held ghosts of poisonous past. Reliving old wounds, old fights, old expectations and experiences. I would leave them in the cobblestone cracks.

I was going to be alone with myself, together with someone else.

Undistracted. Laid bear. Exhausted. I wanted to exhaust it all, in the best way possible. In the truest & most sincere way.

Since returning home, I have not looked at the journal I kept while I was on my Camino. I wrote one promise a day and had My Camino, my way. They say everyone has their own Camino.

There were moments when my codependency was a heavy chain. Some moments, it was a mirror, and I was proud to make decisions for myself. There were setbacks and mistakes, and an epic fight after an 18-mile walk that was the first and last of our relationship, but was an indicator that I was healthier than I once was.

At one point, I had to wrap 7 out of 10 toes because of blisters. But they, too, came to symbolize the breaking open of self and allowing fresh skin to form, delicate and sensitive as it may be. (I love a metaphor! I am a metaphor!)

Maybe this is the time to look back and see how far I have come. Maybe blogging these steps, spiritually and physically, will be a lasting reminder that my road has always been unique, sometimes hard, but always planned by God. Looking back and leaving the wisdom here will continue to carry me, as He always does, into the next Camino, & here in Germany. More distillation to come. I can feel it in my toes.