A year ago today I logged the last and longest day...
of my solo trek across northern Spain: 23+ miles, 3,400' elevation gain, 8.5 hours of movement — with every combination of weather (poncho to sunblock and back again), terrain (mud, rock, woodlands, sand, pavement), and views. It has been good to reflect.
I ended the day feeling peaceful. Grounded. Internally at rest. Like I'd completed what I needed to do.
And yet, the journey continues: through my slow, meandering way home (by train, air, and a transatlantic crossing), through a transition back to "normal life" that felt anything but, through the early attempt to put it all into words here — which stalled somewhere around day three, when the next chapter apparently had other plans — into massage school — an unplanned turn, though I'd considered it for years — and, just this week, to launching my own practice.
Walk and the way will appear is still holding true. Taking the next step, making the next right decision, keeps revealing the path — if only the next bit of it.
It's still wild to me that this way of being — living presently, moment by moment — has such a peace-inducing, grounding capacity. I have less certainty than ever about the future. But I'm here. Now.
And for me, that is enough.
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