This is written two days after the walk. I've given priority to spending time with my friends rather than writing. It was the right thing to do. Two days ago I was wondering if I should end my pilgrimage in Pamplona, or if I should continue with the tight group that formed when we had dinner in Arrés. I arrived to Monreal without having clarity over this decision.
At night I had trouble sleeping. I was growing more and more attached to my new friends. My instinct—or I should write trauma—in this case is detaching. I avoid making connections that I will have to sever. It hurts, and in my nomadic lifestyle I've gone through a lot of it. Having this trauma-challenge present, I felt perhaps the spiritual challenge was to walk with my friends, allow myself to connect and then learn the art of saying goodbye gracefully.
On the other hand, the words I told my fellow pilgrim resounded in my head: "I would rather go back to Mexico with no money and some hope, than with some money and no hope". It felt clear: what I needed the most was hope. Was this walk giving it to me?
The answer was yes. In some areas of my life, it made me remember things which I already knew, but that I had forgotten. In the weeks I spent in Barcelona, I had gotten stuck in a loop: I would wake up, do some chores, go to yoga, cook for myself, do some menial computer work, at 6pm hit the cannabis club, go to the park and/or to the beach, work out at the calisthenics park, then aimlessly walk around the city until I was tired enough to go back home to sleep. Rinse and repeat.
I know this an ultra-privileged rut. My rock bottom is someone else's soaring height. But my plane was spinning aimlessly at the takeoff runaway, I needed to do something—anything—to extricate myself from this loop.
I also explained this to another pilgrim: I rely on weed to deal with my loneliness. It's fun to be with myself when I'm high. But weed is a friend who is not interested in my work. It's an adventurous friend who is extroverted, impulsive, careless but also fun. I don't get glued to the couch as many smokers do. But it's also the kind of friend you shouldn't see everyday. Even once per week is probably too much.
I need to make friends in order to displace weed as my friend. This is why walking alone was initially difficult, I had lost my coping mechanism and had to face boredom and the embarrassing memories which were surfacing at the time. I have no idea why they started or why they ceased, but I seem to be completely relieved from them, thank God.
This sober walk gave me the increased capacity to be with myself, and at the same time it made me realize that I depend on other people for my own emotional well-being. I had lost hope in myself in this regard because in Barcelona I would make daily commitments not to smoke, and break them as soon as it hit 6pm.
My intrapersonal hope is restored.
Inter-personal hope was surprisingly easy to regain, especially after the difficult feelings I went through. I must thank my friends of the camino for this. I did my part, which is showing up as someone who is willing to connect, and my friends accepted my offer gracefully. I can't offer too many insights in this regard, everything felt very natural, I simply had an inaccurate self-image as a loner, somewhat inept at social interactions and generally uninterested in other people.
I didn't have to pretend to be curious or interested in the other, I found myself doing effortless deep listening and asking good questions to my friends. I talked about myself just enough, and I felt authentic in my interactions.
My interpersonal hope is restored.
So, the reason why I choose to leave the camino is not some sense of lacking in this walk. I tried to make that clear to my friends. I want to keep on walking with you, but I know I still have one piece of hope I need to restore, and that is my professional confidence. I didn't dare to start a project when I was back in Barcelona wasting my time, because I knew I wasn't in a place where I could complete it. It would just become further proof that I'm professionally broken and it would place me deeper into despair.
I go back to Barcelona because now I feel confident I can restore professional hope.