I am writing this from northern Spain in the small village of Obanos. The cathedral bells have just rung, temporarily drowning out the conversation of a group of local Spaniards near me in the plaza. The sun shines still though it is 7 pm. I am on Day 4 of my Camino de Santiago. About 65km down. 725 to go.
The challenges are probably obvious: kilometer after kilometer of walking, dealing with wayfinding and the weather, and missing loved ones at home. But there is glory, too, in rolling green hills, snow-dotted mountainsmountains, and the peace of an ever-extending path past grazing sheep, sun-yellow mustard fields, and rushing streams of clear, cold water.
More so is the joy of the companionship of fellow wanderers, restless spirits who are open to all that this lovely and difficult world has to offer. They understand like few others what drives me on, the curiosity and faith and wonder all at once.