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Part 2: Lessons I Learned From The Camino

Fresco Tours 130 first kite flight freebird

It Helps to Believe in God’s Angels

We were near the half way point of our pilgrimage along The Way (or the Camino de Santiago) in Galacia, Spain. The quarter-sized blister on my right heel constantly reminded me it was there and the ache in my bones was gnawing and deep – a kind of deep I had never experienced before. It felt as if my bones were moaning. The pain was not muscular strain or a symptom of my lack of endurance, but something more I could not identify. This added emotional fatigue to my physical pain. One step in front of the other was my only choice unless I wanted to give up and ride the bus.

No way! Not this pilgrim. I traveled to Spain with my husband to experience this spiritual journey and I was going to do just that!

Ken and I started the first few mornings hiking together, but his pace was much faster than mine especially given his long legs and my physical state. As the days progressed, I urged him to go ahead so he could move at a more gratifying and natural cadence. This provided the opportunity for each of us to walk parts of the Camino with our new friends from our small tour group. Ken usually hiked the morning with Clay since their pace was similar. I often hiked with Cathy, since she bravely traveled solo on this journey and had no built-in hiking partner. Her life story was humbling to my heart. I cherished the time I got to spend with her along The Way. Experiencing different parts of the journey each day with a new friend who willingly shared their own significant story became a special treasure.

Each morning our guides mapped out what we should expect from the miles ahead. They plotted our touch-point-stops so they could account for us throughout the day. The group was good about keeping a mindful pace that allowed us to meet for lunch and finish within thirty minutes to an hour of one another at the end of the day. I am not sure when or why my evaluation of this mapped-out journey shifted, but somehow my vision that I had created in my mind of this spiritual trek was not matching the reality of it. My focus was clearly clouded.

The morning instructions and evening recaps from our guides seemed laborious. The history lesson at lunch BEFORE eating a crumb of food after eight to ten miles of hiking was an impediment for re-balancing my blood sugar. The pain was mounting in my body and the circles and bags under my eyes were becoming more exaggerated. The hard mattresses and dark, dank rooms were tiring and void of the joy and comfort that I anticipated at the outset. The mostly gray skies that threatened of rain daily dampened my outlook.

These things consumed me.

Did I love the people who were gathered around us as new friends? Yes! Was the food excellent and plentiful? Absolutely! Were our guides lovely and helpful? Of course. Was my husband loving me through my struggles? Hmmm. . . ? That peach umbrella protection he offered day one of our quest seemed now to be a great emotional distance away.

I was pretty sure my inner pouting was making its way out to the visible side of me. Much to his credit, Ken and I began the afternoon part of our hike together. I fought desperately to suppress my misery. He was rightfully sick and tired of my whiny presence and for remaining slightly ahead of me on the trail, yet I could not stand staring at his back any longer.

I stopped and stomped and proclaimed that this whole adventure seemed to be about reaching target after target, destination after destination, and hard bed after hard bed. Nothing about it was feeling very spiritual to me! Ken stopped. He turned and looked at me. I continued by barely muttering that I had carried my mother’s kite in my backpack for days and it seemed we never slowed long enough to fly it. It seemed we never paused long enough to notice the wind.

At this point, I was tired of my own damn self.

It was time for Ken to respond. He walked back toward me. He reached for my hand and said, “Let’s step off the trail and fly the kite.” A faint “Really?” came out of me. “Really.” he said. We stepped off the trail. Tears were just under the surface of my suffering fighting for my joy to win. I told Ken that I loved his invitation but I did not think the moment was right because the breeze was too inconsistent to take the kite up; he insisted that we try. . . so we did.

The kite rose and then swiftly fell. At that very moment I heard a voice behind me saying, “Give it more string, it will fly.” Who is that? Those are words my mother would say. Again, “Give it more string.” The next thing I knew, this man who seemed to have a lifetime of belongings on his back exited the Camino to help me and my mother’s kite seek out freedom and the breeze. He picked up the kite. He opened its wind channels and he gently encouraged me again to give it more string as he held it above his head.

We both watched it take flight. My heart took flight with it. Unbeknownst to me, my husband was yards away shooting a video with his phone. He captured the encounter with this stranger from the Camino. The encounter that took place just after I had made the proclamation that there seemed to be no room in this hike for my spiritual journey.

My husband, though tired of my disposition, led me off the beaten path to encourage me to take the time to experience God’s presence. And what did God do? He sent an angel to speak familiar words that I have heard many times from my mother. That angel had earbuds around his neck with music playing from them. The tune was captured on my husband’s video. The song was FREEBIRD by Lynyrd Skynyrd. That moment could not have been more masterfully orchestrated.

God sent me an angel when I finally exclaimed, “I want this to be a spiritual journey!” He reminded me that it was up to me to ask and to seek that adventure. He reminded me, “Robin, let it go. Don’t hold on so tightly. Freedom comes when you stop controlling every outcome.” I was indeed holding onto so many things that I needed to release like believing my expectations were the only right way for this pilgrimage to be significant or godly. I needed to look up and I needed to step off path and snap myself out of the self-centered place I had allowed myself to go. I was reminded to look around me and to see the beautiful gifts He has waiting for me. When I ask, seek, and notice, he answers me.

As I made room for gratitude to grow within me more miraculous encounters followed throughout that day and the days after.

Imagine that.

LESSON 2:

My suffering can block my view of joy. Waiting for my spiritual journey to happen to me only means I miss the signs along the way. I have to be an active participant by surrendering my frailties and trusting in God’s help. Of course, believing that He sends me an angel now and then doesn’t hurt.

I hope you will stay tuned for Lesson 3 to follow. I look forward to hearing from you in comments below!

I Pursued a Spiritual Journey and Failed Miserably Along “The Way”

Fresco Tours 161 rob and ken sweetUNEXPECTED LESSON ONE from The Camino:

              By Robin Hurst, Author, Founder, Your Path Matters and All In Retreats

When I anticipated our eight days of trekking on the Camino de Santiago to the tomb of Saint James, disciple of Jesus, I was sure that it would be one of the most incredible spiritual journeys of my life.

The visions in my head and heart were romantic. The dream of taking this trip with my husband, Ken, had been stirring in me for years. When we finally scheduled our adventure for September, Ken and I knew there would be a possibility of rain, so we planned accordingly by packing the appropriate gear if needed.

Unfortunately, our rookie planning was no match for the thunder, lightning, torrential rain and hail that met us our first day on the trail. There was no quick exit off the course to catch an Uber and it was unwise to escape into the immense evergreen forest canopy because the tall timbers were basically natural lightning rods.

The first half of our day was filled with warm sunshine and a joyful journey. It was a delight to meet up with others in our group for lunch. We lingered. We laughed. We enjoyed a bountiful feast. And yes, after much deliberation, I decided to shed my raincoat and extra shirt layer since the morning hike was so lovely. The additional gear seemed like unnecessary weight.

Those burdensome layers were left on the bus that we would not see again until the end of the day. After the first mile or two into our afternoon trek, the winds picked up, the temperatures suddenly dropped more than twenty degrees and torrential rain followed swiftly creating unavoidable ankle-deep water on narrow and uneven parts of the trail. The rain was announced by dark purplish-blue skies along with the symphony of rumbling thunder and flashes of lightning. The circumstances were surreal, but unfortunately undeniable.

As we grappled to mentally adjust to our circumstances, the situation was exacerbated by half-inch balls of hail that began to pelt our bodies relentlessly. Whimpering sounds came from my being as the reality of physical shivering escalated my discomfort while my fear of the true danger of a lightning strike intensified. Somehow, I had the presence of mind to lecture myself to stop the whimpering and to just pick up the pace to the finish line. Whining was not going to get me there sooner or dryer.

I then noticed that my husband pulled a peach umbrella out of his backpack and held it over me. He literally covered me. He held me close to him while holding the small umbrella over my head protecting me from the hail while sacrificing his own cover. Both of us tried not to think about the lightning magnet it was.

We hiked several more miles in the torrential rain to our destination of the iconic Iron Cross. I had looked forward to dwelling at the cross, saying a prayer and leaving a stone as a symbol of leaving something from within me behind while looking ahead in hope as is Camino pilgrim tradition. Dwelling at the cross was not appealing to me in the freezing cold, blowing wind, torrential rain and wicked hail. Not an inch of my clothing or body could get any more soaked than it already was, but lingering in the wide open at the foot of this metal cross in the elements was not part of my fairy tale dream of our precious spiritual adventure.

Until then, it had not occurred to me that the 100 miles we had ahead of us could be in the pouring rain – every day! This pilgrim would not have signed up for that kind of experience and labeled it a vacation. I prefer a more comfy kind of spiritual journey. These thoughts that were stewing in my mind were interrupted by the arrival of our bus. Bus transportation never looked so glorious to me.

Even though our first day was far from what I had envisioned, I made it through. My husband protected me from the hail and God protected us from the lightning. It was good to see the balance of our hiking group, who would soon become our dear friends, arrive and share their stories. They all laughed at Ken’s feminine colored peach umbrella – the only umbrella detected on the trail. Even though the laughter was welcome and warranted, I was grateful that particular umbrella was in my husband’s backpack and that he used it to protect me beyond his own comfort even if the rest of the group called him “Kenny Poppins” for the remainder of our adventure.

The lessons were many that day. However, not only did I not appreciate them at the time, I simply did not see them at all. I was wet, freezing and concerned for the days ahead. I was disappointed that I did not get to dwell at the foot of the iconic Iron Cross. I barely offered a feeble prayer there. That perspective prevented my dwelling with God to thank him for Ken, a peach umbrella, a group of new friends, and the fact that the Iron Cross was a reminder that He sent His one and only son to die for me so that I, in every kind of weather, get to experience His grace and the greatest love the world has ever known.

 

LESSON ONE – DAY ONE:

My circumstances and emotions can get in the way of my gratitude, my faith and my dwelling at the foot of the cross. Thankfully, God is patient and faithful. He will wait for me to find my way.

©2020 Robin Hurst, All In Retreats, LLC

Surprised by LOVE


As many of you know, my “Word” of the year begins in August after I travel to Vista, California.  My word journey began by “accident” as far as I knew.

So this is my 7th year to choose a guiding word….  or should I say the word chooses me!

Crazy really.

The past two years, unlike the previous five, I have had a word in mind before I arrived in Vista.  I had been talking to God for several weeks about this year’s word since I had a preconceived notion of what it might be.  I asked God to make the “right word” really clear for me so that his direction would trump my own.

As usual, I called my friend, Joy in Vista a few weeks in advance of my arrival.  You see, it is at Joy’s booth at the Vista Farmer’s Market where I retrieve my word.

When I called Joy to secure our annual Saturday connection, her response left me silent for moments… Joy’s news was devastating to me.  She was not going to be at the market!   I thought, WHAT??  How could it be?  WOULD I HAVE HAVE TO GO WORDLESS?

Joy stepped into the silence (though the panic in my mind was loud and clear) with what she expected would be reassuring words.  “Not to worry. I have already put your word aside for you. I feel strongly about this word for you.”  EXCUSE ME?, I thought. How could you possibly know what word to choose?  This journey is personal between me and God! Read more →

I Give to You…OUR SONG of the Year

This Valentine’s month I share a piece of my heart with you – Our “Song of the Year”.

Do you ever feel like you just don’t need any more “boxes wrapped in strings, or designer love and empty things” as the Goo Goo Dolls say so eloquently in their song Better Days?

Well, the past few years my husband and I have felt this to be more and more true for us. So, one of the most rewarding gifts we have shared has been a song to call our own. A song to hold, to share, to revisit all year.

Some years we slow dance when I unveil the song. Last year my family participated in the gift and we did a “mini family flash mob!” It was hilarious and touching at the same time. This year it was more simple and more private. Read more →

I Repeat…My word of the Year is Patience

 

 

I repeat… “My Word of the Year is Patience.”

Have you noticed that “New Year’s Resolutions, Revolutions, guiding words, goals and hopes” topics are resonating out there? Each year, in August (since 2007), I’ve identify a word of the year to live by. Since it is now a new calendar Year it seems appropriate to re-post my “Word of the Year” blog.

I hope you enjoy a little patience as you read on again, or for the first time.

If you were to choose a word of the year to live by, remain rooted in, would “PATIENCE” ever come to mind? Me neither! But this is how this true story unfolds….

My husband, Ken, and I travel every year back to the Vista Farmer’s Market (VFM) in California. (see other blogs: Back and Forth to Vista) This year was not exception. So, we arrive at the VFM and per our usual Em-O, Ken bee lines to the breakfast tamale booth as I continue to seek Joy – that would be my dear friend Joy Blessman and her booth filled with INTENTIONS. For the past 7 years I have returned to Vista to discover my guiding word for the year. I find the word or more like it the word finds me.Then I choose to live in it, by it and sometimes through it for the entire year. The word serves as an area of growth in my life and my faith. Read more →

Word for the Year – A Trip Back to VISTA

If you were to choose a word of the year to live by, remain rooted in, would “PATIENCE” ever come to mind? Me neither! But this is how this true story unfolds….

My husband, Ken, and I travel every year back to the Vista Farmer’s Market (VFM) in California. (see other blogs: Back and Forth to Vista) This year was not exception. So, we arrive at the VFM and per our usual Em-O, Ken bee lines to the breakfast tamale booth as I continue to seek Joy – that would be my dear friend Joy Blessman and her booth filled with INTENTIONS. For the past 7 years I have returned to Vista to discover my guiding word for the year. I find the word or more like it the word finds me.Then I choose to live in it, by it and sometimes through it for the entire year. The word serves as an area of growth in my life and my faith.

This year, unlike past years, I arrived with a preconceived notion of what my next word of focus would be. I was sort of getting fired up about what I was sure would be my new word. Although, since it is important to me to surrender to what God’s plan might be for me, I said a prayer before we headed to the market. My prayer went like this, “God, please just make it clear what my word should be. Otherwise, I’VE got a plan. You know me, God, the sign has to be clear so I can be sure.”

So, when I arrived at Joy’s booth and laid eyes on my friend she greeted me with her smiling eyes and a new curvy, smaller frame. She shared her story about her new nutrition cleansing plan that clearly worked. Her size, her shining spirit, her glowing skin all revealed a cleansed new starting point. Somehow, Vista represents this for me each year. I yearn for this trip and these moments with JOY.

As our interlude continued to unfold my eyes began to search her booth for her famous INTENTIONS soaps and for my new word to treasure for the next 365 days. Concern entered my spirit. I did not see the soaps, only four INTENTIONS candles one of which was my anticipated word. Ok. Now all I need is the soap and I’m good. When I asked Joy about the soaps she said that a women earlier in the day had purchased almost all of her INTENTIONS SOAPS but she had this little row of them left. No matter really. I only needed one of them… right?

So, I begin to review the row of soaps, one soap hiding the next one. I looked at the first soap, it said “patience.” Well, no this is not it. The next one, “patience.” No way. The third one, yup, “patience.” The fourth, “triumphant” which was my word two years ago. The sixth and seventh soaps, “patience!” There were two more soaps, both said “joy.” As you can imagine, my heart was pounding. Not one WISDOM in the bunch! Maybe I’m supposed to switch to a candle this year. Who says the word has to be on a bar of soap?

Really, God? Patience? Ok, you may be asking me, why not joy? Great question! I thought that myself. Get this.

As I stewed in silent denial about the word that appeared 5 times out of 8 possibilities because someone else had bought all the others after asking God to make it really clear, I waited for the answer to change. I moved back toward the four candles. Remember, one of them had “MY” word – WISDOM – on it. I reached for wisdom. Meanwhile, my friend Joy had no idea what was going on inside of me as other customers were coming and going in her booth. Finally, as I reached for the wisdom candle I hooked the ribbon on the candle next to it. That candle fell into my hands. Joy quickly said, whatever that candle is that fell must be your word, Robin. It nearly jumped off the shelf at you. You are not going to believe this… YES! Dog gone it! It was the PATIENCE candle.

A brief moment after that happened, I remained in turmoil as more customers came and went. I picked up the “joy” soap telling myself that I could live with joy for the year. That would be just fine. It wasn’t wisdom but it trumped patience. Then a noticed a customer reaching toward the candles, as she was reaching her finger hooked a ribbon of one of the candles and it fell toward her. I repeated Joy’s advice – “that must be the one you are supposed to buy. It came right to you.” She looked at me, kept browsing and finally purchased the one that fell toward her. She said as she paid joy for her COURAGE candle, I do believe this was the one meant for me. REALLY. (Why couldn’t it have been the patience candle? She was ACTUALLY reaching for patience!) There was a complete stranger, hooking a candle just like I did. She accepted the message and moved on.

Joy looked at me. Robin, I can feel your angst from here. Why are you fighting patience so much? Girl, don’t you know the only way to it is through it? You may have all the wisdom you need for now to take the next steps in your dreams and God’s plan. Trust that. You just may need more patience to understand it all. She wrapped up that patience soap. We embraced. I left ready to tell my husband the unbelievable story.

He asked, “so what’s your new word of the year, Rob?” I said, “are you ready to hear this story?” His response, “it’s a whole story. Maybe later.” WOW. Already, I’m being tested in patience. No problem. I can wait.

While I thought I had grown so much in patience I guess there is more to learn. I’ve grown more patient with others, with the pace of the world, even more patient with myself, but I’m not so sure I’ve been patient in understanding how and when my dreams may be realized. People say that God’s timeline is different than ours. That’s a tough one. That means I’m not always the driver. I’m learning that I’ve got to depend on others and God to help me in this “dream plan.” That’s not easy for me. How about you?

Do you fight or embrace patience? Do you have a story of patience you can share in the comments? I’d LOVE to hear it! I’ve got all year…

 

 

Risking to Really Live!


“If we risk nothing, we risk everything.”
Geena Davis

Words are never sufficient when we lose those we love. My heart goes out to all of you who understand this. A year ago, we lost my beautiful and courageous niece, Samantha, my sister’s daughter. Sam was 23 years and 5 days old. She stepped out in risk… a lot. Sam loved mischief. She loved adventure. She loved deeply, especially little children. She risked using her voice for others and for advancing a worthy cause or project. I learned so much from this young, yet very wise soul. I understand that losing those we love is part of life, but it is difficult to accept. It is painful. Grief from our loss lingers within us. I am also learning that grief is part of healing.

It is becoming clear that I must risk to really live which in turn honors what Samantha taught me about living. I am learning to risk through stepping out in adventure. I am: risking to stand up for what I believe… risking to support others…. risking to share my faith… risking to speak words of love over judgment, perfection or self-doubt… risking to take on physical challenges when my mind or fear would prefer to stop me. Read more →

Un-ZIP Your Courage!

I have a fear of heights. It’s not exactly the height I fear necessarily but the falling from up high. Looking down makes my stomach feel like swirling butterflies. Therefore, I probably avoid situations of significant height unless I have solid ground under my feet so I can enjoy the vast vista. Therefore, when I signed up to “BE BRAVE” recently, as part of a conference in Nebraska, jumping off a 55 foot platform to ZIP LINE and walking swinging wooden planks 45 feet above the ground was what I had in mind to expand my comfort zone. I guess that is why they say “EXPANDING” your comfort zone. Read more →

Pause Creates New Space

Your Path Matters logoOne of my favorite quotes, “Create the space and a bigger life happens” is by Alysia Reiner. The first time I read this quote I felt the need to de-clutter my physical space. You know, purge and eliminate piles. It seemed I was skilled at creating little piles in every room – and my desk… forget about it.
So, I began the task of eliminating piles to create more physical and visual space. With each step toward “less is more” I found a desire to “create space” in other areas as space can be physical space, calendar space, mental space or soul space. I was discovering that in all of these spaces “clutter happens.”
Read more →

I Need a Sign… A Phone Call

Sweet Nancy fills my heart and my soulI Need a Sign… Part III of A Skywriter, A Billboard, A Bumper Sticker and A Phone Call

This time God dialed in through A PHONE CALL…

It was March 2011 about a year after I had the privilege of presenting my very first Women’s retreat. I set this goal, dream actually, in 2008, to help other women find joy, purpose and fulfillment. THIS, I believed would be my mission forward. This vision was rooted in my faith. I hoped that through this retreat process and the sharing of my own life stories others would see God and all his goodness.

In August of 2009, my friend Nancy and I were sitting on a balcony overlooking the San Diego harbor sipping a glass of Chardonnay. Nancy looked at me and said with direct inquisition, “So, Rob, you have been talking about this retreat stuff for a while now, when is the first one going to take place?” I understood. Dreams are good. They set direction and focus to our goals, but it was up to me to set a concrete date to my plan in order to advance the dream. Nancy was right. Together we set a date and agreed the first retreat would take place in Nancy’s retreat-like living room. There was new fire within me to complete the itinerary for the 2-day event. All my focus was directed toward making that dream come alive. Read more →