Listen, listen!

Some lessons of the Camino have to be pounded into your brain. 

Listening has never been my strong suit. I could never wait for instructions or for people to even finish a sentence. I’m off in another direction by the time something I am supposed to do/hear/receive/etc comes at me. The moniker “gazelle brained” was not given to me lightly by my husband. 

Today the hammer came down and it hurt.

On our way from Estella to Los Arcos we continued walking with a father and daughter. He is a very exuberant and expressive man who immigrated from Spain to the UK about 44 years ago. He loves to tell stories. In many ways, he reminds me of my father. Often, when he gets excited to get a point across he begins with, “Listen! Listen!”  Followed by, “I got something to tell you.” 

This morning I had one small yogurt, one half cup of coffee, and a piece of toast with butter. My reserves were dry. For several km I struggled just to keep going and I was out of patience and the humbling began. With Thom half a km ahead I was going slow and my dear companion was unaware of my limits being stretched. Although I was trying to be clear that I needed some quiet space… When we finally reached Thom who was waiting and then started to move on a again I shouted, “If you nove from that spot, I swear, I will not speak to you again for the rest of the day!” He waited and as I caught up to him I just buried my face in his chest trying not to cry. 

Exhaustion. Lack of calories. Lack of quiet. They all combined to shove the lesson of St Benedict in the cracks of my carefully constructed castle. 

I fear the poor man thinks he did something wrong. 

I am humbled.