What it means to be lost, and finding refuge on the Camino
Moving forward sometimes demands that we live lost, knowingly surrendering our attachment to who we think we are, voluntarily stumbling around in the dark with little to guide us.
~ Jeff Brown in ‘Soulshaping - A Journey of Self Creation’
Hi,
I was chatting with a Korean woman as we were walking a really long, monotonous, plain stretch of the Camino. We were talking about everything and nothing. When recounting one of the highlights of her walk so far, she referred to this one day when she was lost. In broken English it went something like, “It wasn’t until much later I found out I was lost. I didn’t know it at the time. I think that’s what made it so wonderful, why I felt so free.”
I paused to type that into my phone. It made me think about what it means to be lost. If we don’t know we’re lost, are we? And why does being lost have such a negative connotation?
I remember as a young kid being terrified of being lost, whether that be in a supermarket, out in nature or in crowded spaces. Bad things happen to you when you’re lost, we were told. The message was that these were all unsafe places to be alone and lost.
At the same time there’s an innate curiosity and desire for adventure that draws me to exploring the unknown of these places. I quite enjoy being lost. The more I find myself ‘lost’ here, the more alive I feel, the more likely it seems I might find something new, something of interest, something unexpected, parts of myself.
I remember a more recent time being lost in the redwoods forest near Warburton after the sun had gone down. It was a pitch black night in the middle of winter, dark moon, my phone had lost power so no torch or map. I couldn’t see my hand in front of my face and was disoriented. I’ll never forget that feeling of being lost and alive, uncertain and making decisions based on acute sensory awareness, trusting. It was a fully embodied experience of being in the present moment.
We’re taught to avoid and mitigate such experiences of getting lost at the cost of being truly present, alive and experiencing our primal senses and sensors being activated and engaged. But it can feel amazing, enlivening. Perhaps it’s why we seek adventure – to be lost and alive again.
It can be terrifying, yes, and while some of our conditioned responses are actually keeping us safe, often they’re reacting to a perceived threat, not a real one. May we be more discerning and allow a little more of that sensory activation and embodied experience of the present moment into our lives.
That conversation wasn’t the only one that triggered some reflection and deep feels. A couple of days earlier I met Polina. I was walking alone for the first couple of hours of the day and feeling down, spinning on thoughts of doubt and questioning myself – lost, in thought.
I saw a newly erected sign that said ‘warm up?’ with an arrow pointing off the path. I did need to warm up and so followed the sign. A slight detour lead me through a stone arch onto a grassy lawn. There was a man raking leaves and a woman cleaning some familiar scallop shells.
Typically, the way you introduce yourself on the Camino is by name and then where you’re from. After I announced myself, I met Polina, from Ukraine. Polina works at the Albergue to support herself and her parents. They recently fled their home in Mariupol with a backpack between them. Along with a friend – Michael from Germany, they are working at the Albergue preparing it for guests who’ll arrive in April at the start of the tourist season.
I ordered a coffee and was offered some banana bread that Polina’s mother had made. I was curious and began to ask a few questions. I asked if I could share some of her story and Polina obliged. I pressed record on my phone and we kept chatting.
It was one of those moments when I quickly zoomed out of my own experience and became aware again of what’s happening in the world and the spectrum of experiences people are having - from the sublime to the devastating. What struck me most about this, as it often does, is the attitude and grace with which Polina is dealing with this tragedy.
I’ve shared this conversation on the podcast, you can listen on Apple here and Spotify below. I share with the intention simply being to acknowledge Polina’s story. I hope that it provides some perspective that may help you find more appreciation and gratitude for what you do have, and that perhaps it may raise awareness for the Albergue Polina and her family works at and help generate more business. If you find yourself on the Camino, please visit it here.
I’m looking for a thread to tie this all together – those two conversations and the contrast between this relative abundance I’m experiencing. Not sure if there is one or if there even needs to be.
I’m currently in Leon enjoying a couple of rest days and will be back on the Camino again soon. I look forward to following those yellow arrows to wherever they lead, to being lost along the way and remembering that being lost sometimes is in fact, the way.
I continue to be in awe and appreciation for the privilege it is to be alive at this time and to experience the serendipitous and soul-affirming connections and conversations I get to have have along the way.
May your days ahead be filled with such moments too.
Cheers,
Michael
P.S. If you’re on Instagram and want to follow along you can find me here.