Finisterre and the end of the world

Yesterday afternoon, I escaped the oven that is Santiago, and finally arrived in Finisterre, the end of the world.  A place where, at sunset, the spirits of the deceased leave this world for the other side.  Where pilgrims burn their old shoes and clothes.  The final destination of my three month journey.  I am here to rest and recuperate after walking across Spain, 860 kilometers - nearly one million footsteps.  And to reflect on what I have experienced, learned, and been given over this journey.  What have I given?  To see if I find perspective.

Finisterre is a small and not particularly impressive town.  Most of the buildings are new and fairly standard fare.  The land is surprisingly sparse and dry, the coast jagged.  But the land here is strong, as is the ocean.  That is an understatement.  I feel like I could step into the sky, take a few steps, and be on the other side.

Behind town is the beach that faces west, into the sunset:

There is a long and quiet beach here, where some of the more adventurous pilgrims have set up a make shift camp:

I sat here for a while last night, meditating on my trip, waiting for the sunset.  Here are some of the things I've gleaned so far.

When I started this trip, my request was to learn how to live well and love being alive.  I think the single strongest and clearest lesson has been about not planning things.  Not to try to control things so that they look how i think they should.  Not to force my expectations on things, but instead to watch how things work out on their own.  Perfectly.  To have the sense and perception to move with things - to walk with mystery, and step into the unknown.  To trust.  As some put it, to dance.

The Camino itself is a very special practice.  I have been outside, all day, every day, for a month.  Moving slowly, at the speed of my feet, and with the elements - sun, rain, trees, flowers, wind, fog, roads and dirt paths.  Sharing time and space with everything, especially people.  I developed a deep sense of peace as a foot powered nomad, and thus a clearer vision into my own illnesses.

I have also been given another special gift.  On the first day of the Camino, I met someone who I became particularly close with:

I think we held hands almost the whole way.  

Having someone to share this time with has been an important lesson.  In the past, I've done a lot of traveling alone.  Maybe it's obvious to some, but for me, the enjoyment and ease that comes with another person has been a revelation.  Stepping into the life's unknown and experiencing its beauty is so different when you're with someone.  It has been a clear illustration of the importance of relationship.

That's all for now.  Maybe more later.  It's lunch time, and there is an amazing Italian restaurant waiting for us to sit down in it. :)

Sunset, Cape Finisterre, September 23, 2013, the last day of my Camino.