The Train & the Transient

By Anonymous -

I am almost always thinking about where I will be next: where I am going, where I could be going, where I’m not. I suppose it is my way of not getting bored, and usually I think of it as being optimistic, because the ideas of where I’ll go are idealized into some beautiful adventure. I like constant change, and moving around means that you won’t get stuck anywhere. However, it’s difficult for me to just be present and appreciative of where I am. 

the blurred
Even though a train car seems like a place that could get boring after seven hours of sitting, I was really content on our train ride from Madrid to Sarria (besides the food cart hitting my foot every hour or so). On a train, you don’t feel trapped like on an airplane or in a classroom. You’re moving with the world into new places with every second, and you can see it happening. Almost the entire time, besides dozing off a bit, I was staring out the window, a makeshift frame for the second-long pictures I would see. When I was in first grade, my teacher sent a note home to my parents saying that I spent too much time looking out the windows and not paying attention. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to kick that habit. The problem with it though, is that the pictures you take while moving quickly are often blurry. When you don’t take the time to stop and notice where you are, you truly aren’t able to take in the whole picture and notice the details. Several times throughout the ride I tried taking a picture of something we were passing, but it was never clear. I gave up with the pictures and partly with staring out the window, finding it was more frustrating than fulfilling, and I turned to the inside of the train, which I had neglected for most of the ride. What I found was that if I was still staring out the window, I would have missed the German brothers playing guitar and singing in the next car over, the three women intrigued by the root beer candies I gave them, or even Zach falling asleep for the twentieth time. 

The landscapes I saw through the window, though beautiful, were fleeting. The memories made when I took the time to appreciate where I was, however, will last as long as I want them to. I have been trying to remind myself of this while I am walking the Camino. Sometimes I will get a bit lost in thinking about our next town or next week, and I have to stop and appreciate the beauty that will soak in, if I just take the time to see it.


Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

For all my fellow sufferers

By -
Image
Day four of walking the Camino! Today was a short (relatively speaking) 17 kilometers. My back no longer really feels my backpack, and fairly soon into the walk my feet—grown tired (at last!) from begging me to stop pounding them down uneven declines—have a tendency to go numb(ish). However, today I thought my right knee would explode. When I got out of bed this morning I slipped on a compression band, sliding it over the already swollen bulge that is my knee cap. The knee groaned, creaked, and shot warning fires in protest. I explained (polite but mildly impatient) that there simply is no other way, that it was time to walk it off (figuratively) even though walking (literally) was the cause of its inflammation in the first place. It protested violently with every step. I argued that Spain was beautiful and the journey lovely. The knee remained unimpressed—insisting that I should go on without it and it would take a taxi and meet up with me in Salceda. I did what I could to drown the ...
Read more

Communitas on the Camino

By -
As our destination for the night began to come into view, I felt a strong feeling of accomplishment at the work that was done that day. We had walked quite a ways from our starting point in Sarria and to finally see our destination was relieving. As the town of Portomarín came into view, I looked back to reminisce on the trek of the day. As I was looking back, I was surprised to see a group of 15-20 pilgrims that had been traveling with our group on and off throughout the day.  When I turned around and saw all the pilgrims traveling together to reach our temporary destination, I was overcome with the feeling of “communitas.” Communitas is described in our readings as the feeling we get when we are united together as pilgrims, where geographic and social identities are lost in the act of pilgrimage. The differences between us become less important as we share a common goal.  This is a feeling that I feel will be present throughout our journey. The feeling of unity between pilgr...
Read more

The end of the earth (or just the beginning)

By -
Image
Ahead lies the Atlantic Ocean, a vast expanse of sapphire blue water that goes on for miles and miles, even beyond what can be seen. Behind is the lighthouse that sits at the point of Finisterre. Underneath my feet are the granite boulders that line the coast and the mountains surrounding the estuary. All around are pilgrims and tourists stopping to take in the seaside view. Being in Finisterre, it is easy to see why it was once thought to be the end of the earth. I take a moment to sit down on one of the rocks, which is warm because the sun is brilliantly beating down on Galicia today. Looking out across the ocean, I start to imagine what it would have been like for medieval pilgrims and people even before then who traveled to Finisterre and truly believed that it was the edge of the earth. I’ll be honest, it is hard for me to imagine that because I know that 3,000 miles away lies the United States. However, I am amazed by the leap of faith it took for explorers to travel o...
Read more