If we're not growing, what are we doing here anyway?

On December 15, Old Bay and I will fly to Spain then take the train to Portugal to begin a 10-day (or so) walk to the Cathedral of St. James in Santiago, Spain. We're using one of the many route options for the Camino de Santiago. This early Christian pilgrimage has burgeoned in popularity over the last decade or so, serving as inspiration for popular books such as Paulo Coehlo's The Pilgrimage. Our route will begin in Portugal and end in Spain, at Santiago, Insha'Allah.

There are multiple purposes for this blog. It will serve as a conventional travelogue for our friends--real and virtual--to share Corvid's writing and Old Bay's photos. It will give us experience with blogging, as this will be our first full-fledged attempt. It will also provide a scaffold for us to share our personal reflections on the spiritual pilgrimage that is the purpose of the Camino.  

I cast about briefly for a name for our blog that would capture these multiple purposes, but eventually settled on the rather bland title you see above. We've used these trail names on previous long-distance walks in the US and it seems fitting to carry them to Europe with us, although we don't anticipate hiding our identities from the real people that we meet on the Camino, just from our anonymous online followers, if such a thing is possible.

However, a few days ago, one of my spiritually-minded friends asked a rhetorical question that almost became the title of our blog. I was attempting to describe the spiritual purpose of this journey, which is a bit of a stretch given that Old Bay and I don't necessarily share a similar world view on this matter, and I'd firmly place myself in Liz Gilbert's peer group (Eat, Pray, Love). I commented that we had some sort of intention but that I wasn't entirely sure what it was. In her supportive response, she ended her musing with, "If we're not growing, what are we doing here anyway?" That sounds like a good intention to me.

In preparation for this trip, I've been asking for recommendations for books or readings to bring that can serve as daily mediations on our walk. I've shared a few of them and some of my own ideas below; I'd love to hear some feedback from our friends on these, including additional recommendations. Remember that we don't want to carry a lot of weight.

The Way is Made by Walking: A Pilgrimage along Camino de Santiago, by Arthur Paul Boers. I actually ordered this one and have it already. I'm not sure we'll carry it with us, but I wanted to include it on the list for those readers who may be interested.

Tao te Ching, by Lao Tzu. This is a classic, of course, but I haven't made a committed attempt at digesting it since college, so it seems this might be a good time.

Practice the Presence of God, by Brother Lawrence. This and many of the following recommendations came from my Quaker Friends.

Reflections from the North Country, by Sigurd Olson. One person thought this one might be appropriate because its outdoor nature writing might appeal to Old Bay.

For All my Walking, by Santoka Taneda. Another Quaker recommended this one; I had never heard of it before.

Zen Mind, Beginner's Mind, by Shunryu Suzuki. The same person as above recommended this one, which I have heard of.

Indian Tales (California Legacy), by Jamie De Angula. Another recommendation with which I'm not familiar.

Simple Abundance, by Sarah Ban Breathnach. Another recommendation from someone whose mother reads this every day. It's geared towards women, so it might not appeal to Old Bay. Then again, maybe it will.

The Ringing Cedars series, by Vladimir Megre, about a Russian woman named Anastasia and her spiritual insights.

And finally, there are two authors who were recommended without specific books: Elizabeth Gray Vining (a Quaker about whom Amazon doesn't appear to know much) and Mary Oliver (a very well-known poet).

Salud,

Corvid