"THE JOURNEY OF A 1000 MILES BEGINS WITH A SINGLE STEP" Lao Tzu.
Part way through day 1. WTF was I thinking? This is harder than I thought it was going to be. I thought i had prepared, but obviously not enough. I need to toughen up mentally, i think that is my problem.Was supposed to start yesterday but it was pouring down & I just couldn't get going so I started out early this morning. Had a bit of a bad start, couldn't find my way, but obviously found it soon enough. Once you are on the path it is easy, there are way marks everywhere. Am actually surprised at the number of ppl doing this, people from all over. There are a lot of people around my age , the midlife crisis seems to be a common theme. Have noticed a lot of people without backpacks and surprisingly these are the young ones who appear to be in their early 20's. I was aware that there is a baggage service where you can have somebody transport the bags for you but I thought this was for the oldies or for the infirm. Bloody Generation Y'ers. Struggling to contain my resentment towards them as they rush past in their packs of 3 & 4 pushing others out of the way as they go. Saw one group almost knock over this poor old Asian guy. They remind me of others I have encountered & perhaps this is where the latent anger is coming from. I realise that this is something that I really need to work on, my plan to not judge is proving difficult, I'm very much a work on progress with a loooong way to go. All I can do is try. There's an old saying I really need to remember "when we judge others we condemn ourselves". This is so true. Maybe the young ones without the packs have a reason & it's not my place to judge but God it's hard when they rush past & seem to have no regard for anybody else.
Stopped here in Z for lunch & sat in the small town square to eat with a few other peregrino's. It's a beautiful little town, cute stone houses with wooden shutters and thick oddly shaped wooden doors. I have a thing for doors & door handles - weird I know, a shrink could probably have a field day with that. But I'm not the only one with this freaky interest. I remember seeing this calendar in Florence in Italy and it had, yes, you guessed it, a different door each month. This was right next to a calendar with young priests - no s***, a priest pin up calendar - obviously all clothed but still... Anyway, I digress. Back to the town square, there were families there, I'm assuming they were from this town. I watched what I assume was a father playing with his son who was about 4, and this really lifted me. I don't know why, but nothing touches me more than seeing a Dad play with his kids, it is so beautiful. I know Mums have a bond with their kids, but I think the bond between father & kids is overlooked and under valued. It made me think back to my own childhood & Dad taking me to softball and netball every week and sitting there in the rain, cold and heat watching me play. Or sitting on his lap whilst he read to me. I can still smell him and feel the stubble on his cheek. God I miss him sometimes. Nothing against Mum because I know she did so much for me too, and did far more with & for me than Dad, but it seemed that she had her hands full with everything else, and it is Dad I mainly remember doing things with
Had better get moving again. Have sat down by a stream to have a 5 minute rest & write this up (I LOVE MY IPHONE) which has turned into 15 minutes - the RTM in the sky is gonna write me up. (those who have worked in a call centre will know what I mean, for those that haven't - thank your lucky stars) Lets hope the RTM in the sky is not like B1 or B2 (and no Bobby, these are not real initials so have fun trying to work out who I mean!)
Song of the day: f***, was I: Jenny Owen Youngs (from the first Weeds soundtrack again, god that was a good album)
Seeing that this is the first walking day have decided to dedicate to good ol Mum & Dad again (not sure they'd approve of my song choice though, but hey, not much they can do about it is there, the need for their approval is long gone)