With only four months to go till I leave my family and go to Spain for the adventure of a lifetime, I have been questioning myself. It all boils down to this "is it really OK to run away from home?", especially when you are 52yrs old. With commitments. With a family. And a husband who is working hard to maintain us all.
I made a bucket list when the milestone 50yrs came around. It only had about eight things on it, in fact I only remember one or two items now that I put my mind to it. Learning the constellations in the Southern Sky was one. But I don't recall "Walk El Camino de Santiago" featured. The walk, once the seed of the idea took hold, became the most important thing NOT on that list.
I tell myself that I gave my hubby plenty of notice. I gave him 2.5 years notice. Surely that makes it OK? He's not very happy about it. But he is reluctantly letting me go. He took some pursuading. But I was determined and he caved in. I started saving, a weekly amount, to cover all expenses and the planning started.
My children will miss me, though I know my Mother in Law and hubby will do a good job keeping them entertained and making sure they get to all their practices, have lunches in their schoolbags, and will tuck them in at night. There's always Skype, or Whatsapp.
Hubby will miss me desperately. I already know he feels I am abandoning him.
So what is it that makes me so determined to go. For it's not the first time I have run away. After my divorce to hubby number 1 I went to India as a backpacker for 1 month. A wonderful time only made possible by my sister and ex-hubby who looked after my 2, then small, children. I've always loved adventure. And exploring the ever-expanding world. I love being on my own, revelling in my own resourcefulness, finding peace on the road. I love discovering beauty in my surroundings and finding a quiet mind.
But is that enough? is it OK to just say, I need to get away, and so you must all grin and bear it.
I still don't know how to answer that. But I do know that I need to go now. While I still can. While my body is still strong and answers when I ask of it. Yes, I worry that my achilles tendon will hurt (it still niggles 6 months down the line), or that my sore right foot will make me miserable. I worry that the flight will be hard on my varicose veins. That I might get a stomach bug while on the path.
Partly the drive is faith. I've always had faith, quietly simmering away in the background of my life. I don't believe that it is important to worship the saints, or that St James bones are in the cathedral at Santiago de Compostela. But I do believe in a certain opening of the mind when you let go of your busy life. Concentrating on one task, in this case walking 800km, is similar to yoga. It channels all efforts to one cause leaving the subconscious mind to ease itself.
Matthew and I will walk, regardless of the weather, or the difficulties happening at home, we will read from my Grandmothers psalm book every night. Hopefully we will find a little more about ourselves on the way.
I made a bucket list when the milestone 50yrs came around. It only had about eight things on it, in fact I only remember one or two items now that I put my mind to it. Learning the constellations in the Southern Sky was one. But I don't recall "Walk El Camino de Santiago" featured. The walk, once the seed of the idea took hold, became the most important thing NOT on that list.
I tell myself that I gave my hubby plenty of notice. I gave him 2.5 years notice. Surely that makes it OK? He's not very happy about it. But he is reluctantly letting me go. He took some pursuading. But I was determined and he caved in. I started saving, a weekly amount, to cover all expenses and the planning started.
My children will miss me, though I know my Mother in Law and hubby will do a good job keeping them entertained and making sure they get to all their practices, have lunches in their schoolbags, and will tuck them in at night. There's always Skype, or Whatsapp.
Hubby will miss me desperately. I already know he feels I am abandoning him.
So what is it that makes me so determined to go. For it's not the first time I have run away. After my divorce to hubby number 1 I went to India as a backpacker for 1 month. A wonderful time only made possible by my sister and ex-hubby who looked after my 2, then small, children. I've always loved adventure. And exploring the ever-expanding world. I love being on my own, revelling in my own resourcefulness, finding peace on the road. I love discovering beauty in my surroundings and finding a quiet mind.
But is that enough? is it OK to just say, I need to get away, and so you must all grin and bear it.
I still don't know how to answer that. But I do know that I need to go now. While I still can. While my body is still strong and answers when I ask of it. Yes, I worry that my achilles tendon will hurt (it still niggles 6 months down the line), or that my sore right foot will make me miserable. I worry that the flight will be hard on my varicose veins. That I might get a stomach bug while on the path.
Partly the drive is faith. I've always had faith, quietly simmering away in the background of my life. I don't believe that it is important to worship the saints, or that St James bones are in the cathedral at Santiago de Compostela. But I do believe in a certain opening of the mind when you let go of your busy life. Concentrating on one task, in this case walking 800km, is similar to yoga. It channels all efforts to one cause leaving the subconscious mind to ease itself.
Matthew and I will walk, regardless of the weather, or the difficulties happening at home, we will read from my Grandmothers psalm book every night. Hopefully we will find a little more about ourselves on the way.
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