"I've found that luck is quite predictable. If you want more luck, take more chances. Be more active. Show up more often." --Brian Tracy
As we count down the weeks until I start my 500-mile walk on the Camino de Santiago, seems like Week Minus 13 is a good time to talk about stories of luck. Since this is a historical pilgrimage path, some may prefer to call these stories "miracles." Los milagros.
Let's start with a couple of small miracles. Of course, if you're the recipient, they might not seem so small. While reading these, remember that people follow no specific pace on the Camino. Who shows up at "your" albergue at the end of the day is random. So is where they're from and what they do for a living.
First, from Kevin Codd, author of one of my favorite Camino books, To the Field of Stars. Along the way, Kevin developed a rough case of tendonitis in his lower right leg. Walking is nearly impossible, with a shooting pain that forces him to stop often. He limps into the closest alburgue, wondering if he is going to have to end his journey there. Then "luck" is on his side, three times. That first day, two nurses from Australia introduce him to Voltaren, an analgesic cream available at the local pharmacia. Kevin rubs it in and makes it to the next stop. He plans to rest for an extra day (a huge decision, because it means losing 15 miles of progress) but suddenly changes his mind. And guess what? Another miracle in the form of a Spanish physical therapist at the next alburgue teaches him to do proper stretching. He hobbles off gratefully. A couple of nights later, as he tends to his leg, a bicycling couple take beds across from him. And guess what? The man is a masseur. He assesses the situation, and through gestures, offers to tend to the leg. After that, Kevin has all the tools he needs to complete the Camino.
Here's another one, from a foolish pilgrim who "luckily" received what he needed from someone he never met. He also received a valuable life lesson. Alex Paterson tells us:
On the first day I climbed up from St Jean Pied de Port (in France) across the Pyrenee Mountains down into Roncesvalles in Spain. It was a beautiful cool day and as I descended into Roncesvalles I felt fantastic, still full of energy. A man came out of a bar and pointed down the road towards the next town saying "Zubiri, Zubiri". "How far is it?" I asked, to which he replied in perfect English "Twenty three kilometers." I pointed back over the mountains towards St Jean and asked "How far was that?" He laughed and said "Oh, that was twenty six kilometers, but it was hard and the way to Zubiri is much easier". And so on the spur of the moment I decided to continue on, which was a serious mistake. Ten hours and forty kilometers out from St Jehn, the temperature had risen to 37 degrees celsius and I was exhausted, having eaten nothing since breakfast. I admitted to myself that "I have been a fool and I need some help." A couple of minutes later I crossed a road and came across a small packet of biscuits sitting on top of a post. Someone had left the biscuits there for a pilgrim, and clearly that pilgrim was me. The biscuits were delicious and gave me enough energy to walk the last nine kilometers into Zubiri. I arrived in Zubiri chastened, knowing full well that whilst the Universe had given me enough rope to hang myself, it had also provided me with the sustenance to make it the moment my ego surrendered and asked for help. I had walked 49 kilometers in 12 hours.
[Note: the next day, Alex met another pilgrim who had been walking a little ahead of him. He asked her if she had seen the package of biscuits (cookies). She said, "Yes, but I didn't need them. I thought it better to leave them for someone who might be hungry."]
Maybe you don't think some leg cream or a package of cookies constitute a miracle. Kevin and Alex would disagree. So this brings me to the last example of luck on the Camino. Know that Sarria is on the Camino, at the 100 Km mark from Santiago de Compostela.
In 2009 Matilde submitted her CV as a teacher to the local authority in Sarria. She heard nothing from them.
She had to quickly find an apartment as commuting from Santiago over 100 kms away is not an option. She found one which was ideal. It is right on the Camino and every morning Matilde follows the yellow arrows to school.
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