A few years ago I trekked to Gokyo Ri. It took 8 arduous days to reach the high camp by a lake at the base of Gokyo Ri, not far from Mt Everest.
I met a lady who had made the long trek twice to the holy lake, but failed in her first attempt to reach the summit of the mountain. But on this day she had succeeded, breathing with difficulty in the thin air.
In the distance Mt Everest, Chomolungma, the holy mountain, shone dazzling white. Wisps of snow streamed fiercely from the summit. All around vast craggy mountains, gleaming white snow and bluish ice, jostled together in the greatest mountain range on earth. Prayer flags fluttered in the wind, carrying their messages into the great unknown.
We were almost 5500 metres above sea level, but astonishingly, in this bleak place, an eagle soared in the sky above us.
Seven hundred metres below were the milky blue lake and miniscule tents nestled on its shore. A glacier wound down the valley, an icy dragon slowly edging its way to a distant river, there to melt into waters feeding Mother Ganges, and, at last, to enter the immense ocean.
Next year the monsoons will come again and carry those waters deep into the mountains once more, feeding the snow and glaciers and completing another great, endless cycle - a cycle that lies at the heart of the Buddhist faith.
There is nobility and an example to others that comes from overcoming suffering, and I greatly admired that lady who stood with me on Gokyo Ri, just as I admired the pilgrim who hobbled into Santiago with his injuries.
There is also the universal human need for pilgrimage, to search for something that lies beyond the calculations of reason. Pilgrimge to holy places is a universal yearning of mankind. That is why we walk in the Way of St James, why we trek to holy mountains.
Thursday, June 19, 2008
Sunday, March 9, 2008
Physical and Mental Preparation for the Camino
General fitness for most urban dwellers doing ordinary things focuses on (1) aerobic capacity, (2) flexibility, (3) strength, and (4) endurance. These are the "Big Four" aspects of fitness.
However, each of these factors focuses on "subsystems" of the body, such as heart/lungs, muscles, tendons and joints. That's fine for normal, everyday life and typical sports as practiced by the average person - not elite athletes. Moreover, the "big four" deal only with the body - not the mind.
For unusual activities, such as sustained walking over weeks (eg the Camino), high-altitude trekking (eg Nepal, Andes), we need to adress a 5th fitness factor. I have called this factor "work hardening", but a better word might be "contitioning".
Conditioning involves doing training activities as close as possible to the actual activity being preparedfor (eg the Camino Frances). Conditioning trains the body and mind as one holistic entity, in conditions of terrain, weather and mental state similar to the actual event.
While gym workouts are useful for everyday fitness, they are done indoors, in comfortable weather, when one feels like it. In other words, gym conditions don't mimic the mental conditions one might face on a long distance walk, on which one might become tired, injured or simply de-motivated. The same comments apply to swimming and cycling, neither of which are remotely relevant to walking the Camino.
During the Camino, one will be carrying a pack in both good and bad weather, so train with a pack and try to go out in bad weather as well as on nice days. In bad weather, when tired or hungry the bodily sub-systems and the mind adapt to those stressors in a connected way.
It's difficult to explain the concept properly in a short posting here, but I hope these remarks provide a glimmer of insight into why it is so important to train by doing the actual activity. Of course, that's exactly how the early pilgrims did it: when the right season came around, they simply went on pilgrimage, as Chaucer describes so vividly in The Canterbury Tales. They trained by doing the actual pilgrimage itself, taking rests and longer term stops as required.
That's a valid way of proceeding, but most of us today are driven by fixed vacation and flight schedules, so we don't have time to "waste", so we prepare and train our bodies. That's fine for walks of say one week, but not for those who want to complete the entire Camino Frances in one attempt.
Mental aspects of the Camino (and any challenging physical activity of long duration) are important in determining the likelihood of completing the journey. Here are two examples from my own Camino:
A young lady at an albergue was crying and quite upset because of sore feet, blisters, and probably mental exhaustion as well. I never saw her again, but I hope she found the strength to continue and also that she found supportive companions in her trials. She had plenty of the latter at the albergue. One can draw on the strength of others, and this is very important.
I occasionally met a man during my 35 days on the Camino Frances who gradually became more and more disabled by injuries. I passed him again on the outskirts of Santiago. He walked with great difficulty, but he walked, nevertheless. Mental strength (and perhaps inner faith) had got him there, and in so proving himself, he found that mental strength would be a sure and faithful guide through life. Sometimes there is nobility in suffering, in not giving up.
The Camino tests both our bodies and minds. In surmounting difficulty (or being overwhelmed by it), we learn who we truly are. Therein lies the possibility of spiritual growth and the possibility of being a guide for others.
I hope these reflections are useful. May you also experience the gifts of insight as your mental Camino progresses alongside the physical Camino.
However, each of these factors focuses on "subsystems" of the body, such as heart/lungs, muscles, tendons and joints. That's fine for normal, everyday life and typical sports as practiced by the average person - not elite athletes. Moreover, the "big four" deal only with the body - not the mind.
For unusual activities, such as sustained walking over weeks (eg the Camino), high-altitude trekking (eg Nepal, Andes), we need to adress a 5th fitness factor. I have called this factor "work hardening", but a better word might be "contitioning".
Conditioning involves doing training activities as close as possible to the actual activity being preparedfor (eg the Camino Frances). Conditioning trains the body and mind as one holistic entity, in conditions of terrain, weather and mental state similar to the actual event.
While gym workouts are useful for everyday fitness, they are done indoors, in comfortable weather, when one feels like it. In other words, gym conditions don't mimic the mental conditions one might face on a long distance walk, on which one might become tired, injured or simply de-motivated. The same comments apply to swimming and cycling, neither of which are remotely relevant to walking the Camino.
During the Camino, one will be carrying a pack in both good and bad weather, so train with a pack and try to go out in bad weather as well as on nice days. In bad weather, when tired or hungry the bodily sub-systems and the mind adapt to those stressors in a connected way.
It's difficult to explain the concept properly in a short posting here, but I hope these remarks provide a glimmer of insight into why it is so important to train by doing the actual activity. Of course, that's exactly how the early pilgrims did it: when the right season came around, they simply went on pilgrimage, as Chaucer describes so vividly in The Canterbury Tales. They trained by doing the actual pilgrimage itself, taking rests and longer term stops as required.
That's a valid way of proceeding, but most of us today are driven by fixed vacation and flight schedules, so we don't have time to "waste", so we prepare and train our bodies. That's fine for walks of say one week, but not for those who want to complete the entire Camino Frances in one attempt.
Mental aspects of the Camino (and any challenging physical activity of long duration) are important in determining the likelihood of completing the journey. Here are two examples from my own Camino:
A young lady at an albergue was crying and quite upset because of sore feet, blisters, and probably mental exhaustion as well. I never saw her again, but I hope she found the strength to continue and also that she found supportive companions in her trials. She had plenty of the latter at the albergue. One can draw on the strength of others, and this is very important.
I occasionally met a man during my 35 days on the Camino Frances who gradually became more and more disabled by injuries. I passed him again on the outskirts of Santiago. He walked with great difficulty, but he walked, nevertheless. Mental strength (and perhaps inner faith) had got him there, and in so proving himself, he found that mental strength would be a sure and faithful guide through life. Sometimes there is nobility in suffering, in not giving up.
The Camino tests both our bodies and minds. In surmounting difficulty (or being overwhelmed by it), we learn who we truly are. Therein lies the possibility of spiritual growth and the possibility of being a guide for others.
I hope these reflections are useful. May you also experience the gifts of insight as your mental Camino progresses alongside the physical Camino.
Sunday, December 9, 2007
Cliff-top Reflections at Finisterre
I would certainly urge all pilgrims to go on to Finisterre - although it takes a high degree of motivation to walk there after the highs of arrival in Santiago (especially if you have walked from SJPDP).
I took the bus all the way (very easy from the big bus station in Santiago), but a couple of people got off before Finisterre at a small village whose name I don't recall, so they could walk for a day to Finisterre.
Personally, I felt a greater sense of completion and wonder for the future at Finisterre than at Santiago. At Santiago you are bombarded with so many sensations and experiences - meetings and partings with fellow pilgrims, celebrations and so on; that there is little opportunity for quiet reflection on the meaning of it all.
At Finisterre you walk out onto the cliff, with the lighthouse behind you - which in itself has symbolic value in the sense of a having a guide and protector against perils. You look out over the vast and trackless ocean, wondering not only what the future holds, but also what lies beyond the ocean on the far shores of the spirit. You can reflect in tranquillity and inner calm. I found it very moving.
I took the bus all the way (very easy from the big bus station in Santiago), but a couple of people got off before Finisterre at a small village whose name I don't recall, so they could walk for a day to Finisterre.
Personally, I felt a greater sense of completion and wonder for the future at Finisterre than at Santiago. At Santiago you are bombarded with so many sensations and experiences - meetings and partings with fellow pilgrims, celebrations and so on; that there is little opportunity for quiet reflection on the meaning of it all.
At Finisterre you walk out onto the cliff, with the lighthouse behind you - which in itself has symbolic value in the sense of a having a guide and protector against perils. You look out over the vast and trackless ocean, wondering not only what the future holds, but also what lies beyond the ocean on the far shores of the spirit. You can reflect in tranquillity and inner calm. I found it very moving.
Saturday, December 8, 2007
A New Beginning at Finisterre
There is a custom among some pilgrims of burning some small personal item, or throwing it into the sea, on reaching Finisterre. The act may be a form of spiritual completion, or of a hoped-for new beginning rising Phoenix-like from the ashes.
In my case, I threw a small, inexpensive (but treasured) pocket knife into the sea. The little knife had cut my queso and jamon for lunch over 35 days and it was a wrench to let go of my little friend. But in the ocean it would slowly corrode and form part of the life of the ocean and even the substance of our planet, completing a great cycle begun years ago when its component parts were made from materials taken from distant parts of the earth.
Sometimes we get too attached to objects and material things. It is good to make a small material sacrifice occasionally to bring home to us the importance of other values in our lives.
Recently I watched a BBC TV series about five men who spent 40 days in a Benedictine monastery. The series was a form of reality TV, but it had some interest for me in its potential for insights into the Camino de Santiago.
In one episode, the “novice monks” were advised to write on a piece of paper whatever was troubling them, or something they wanted to let go of; then burn the paper as a ceremonial act of breaking with the past.
It occurred to me that such an act would also be a good way to end the pilgrimage at Finisterre. Some pilgrims may decide in advance what they will write on their piece of paper. For others, insight will come during the pilgrimage itself.
In my case, I threw a small, inexpensive (but treasured) pocket knife into the sea. The little knife had cut my queso and jamon for lunch over 35 days and it was a wrench to let go of my little friend. But in the ocean it would slowly corrode and form part of the life of the ocean and even the substance of our planet, completing a great cycle begun years ago when its component parts were made from materials taken from distant parts of the earth.
Sometimes we get too attached to objects and material things. It is good to make a small material sacrifice occasionally to bring home to us the importance of other values in our lives.
Recently I watched a BBC TV series about five men who spent 40 days in a Benedictine monastery. The series was a form of reality TV, but it had some interest for me in its potential for insights into the Camino de Santiago.
In one episode, the “novice monks” were advised to write on a piece of paper whatever was troubling them, or something they wanted to let go of; then burn the paper as a ceremonial act of breaking with the past.
It occurred to me that such an act would also be a good way to end the pilgrimage at Finisterre. Some pilgrims may decide in advance what they will write on their piece of paper. For others, insight will come during the pilgrimage itself.
Saturday, September 22, 2007
"En el Camino" hostel, Boadilla
This family-run hostel has a wonderful garden area to relax in. Dinner and breakfast are provided in a small dining room, lined with paintings apparently done by one of the family. The welcome I received from the family was warm and hospitable. There was some inner goodness about these people that was very restorative after my long walk this day.
At dinner, a lovely young German woman taught us a game involving crossing hands with your neighbour and tapping one hand on the table. One tap meant the next person tapped their hand and so on around the table, faster and faster. Two taps meant the direction reversed. Hard to describe, but I am sure German readers will recognise the game at once!
At breakfast, we had toasted bread as well as the usual condiments, plus a cup of café con leche the size of a dessert plate.
At dinner, a lovely young German woman taught us a game involving crossing hands with your neighbour and tapping one hand on the table. One tap meant the next person tapped their hand and so on around the table, faster and faster. Two taps meant the direction reversed. Hard to describe, but I am sure German readers will recognise the game at once!
At breakfast, we had toasted bread as well as the usual condiments, plus a cup of café con leche the size of a dessert plate.
The Valley of Hontanas
After leaving Burgos and having walked 29km across the flat Meseta, I was keen to get to Hontanas and relax. But where was Hontanas? Even though I must have been getting close, there was not a sign - just the flat Meseta as far as the eye could see.
Then, suddenly, the tip of a church appeared and there was Hontanas, tucked away in a sheltered valley that meandered across the Meseta.
I stayed in the El Nuevo municipal hostel. The hostel was fine – in fact it had won an architectural award for preserving its medieval foundations – but I loved the little village, down in its valley, out of the winter winds that must howl across the Meseta, with its church and tranquil atmosphere.
At dinner I met a pilgrim who felt guilty about his weight and was walking for a week to shed some kilograms and to do penance for his overindulgence during the year. I got the impression that this was his annual practice.
Then, suddenly, the tip of a church appeared and there was Hontanas, tucked away in a sheltered valley that meandered across the Meseta.
I stayed in the El Nuevo municipal hostel. The hostel was fine – in fact it had won an architectural award for preserving its medieval foundations – but I loved the little village, down in its valley, out of the winter winds that must howl across the Meseta, with its church and tranquil atmosphere.
At dinner I met a pilgrim who felt guilty about his weight and was walking for a week to shed some kilograms and to do penance for his overindulgence during the year. I got the impression that this was his annual practice.
Supper at Granon
The sleeping area of the albergue consists of mattresses on the floor of the attic in the village church. The attic leads via a door to the roof space of the church where you can wash and dry clothes. Below, there is a comfortable sitting area.
The night I stayed here Arturo, the hospitalero, and a couple of helpers prepared a wonderful communal meal for us all. After the meal there were prayers in the church for those who wanted to attend.
The setting itself is relaxing and evocative of a past era of pilgrimage.
However, the reason I mention this albergue is because of the kindness and sense of vocation shown by Arturo and his helpers.
“Remember us in Santiago”, said Arturo as I thanked him when I left in the morning.
Many days later I knelt in the great Cathedral, in the midst of hundreds of fellow pilgrims, washed in the music of the noon Mass, and remembered Arturo.
The night I stayed here Arturo, the hospitalero, and a couple of helpers prepared a wonderful communal meal for us all. After the meal there were prayers in the church for those who wanted to attend.
The setting itself is relaxing and evocative of a past era of pilgrimage.
However, the reason I mention this albergue is because of the kindness and sense of vocation shown by Arturo and his helpers.
“Remember us in Santiago”, said Arturo as I thanked him when I left in the morning.
Many days later I knelt in the great Cathedral, in the midst of hundreds of fellow pilgrims, washed in the music of the noon Mass, and remembered Arturo.
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