Saturday, June 1, 2013

The Next Right Step


“Every time you take a step, even when you don't want to. . . . When it hurts, when it means you rub chins with death, or even if it means dying, that's good.
 Anything that moves ahead, wins. No chess game was ever won by the player who sat for a lifetime thinking over his next move.” 

~ Ray Bradbury, 
Farewell Summer

My friend Brenda is walking the Camino de Santiago this summer, a 550 mile religious pilgrimage from St. Jean Pied de Port in France to the Cathedral of Santiago de Compostela in Galicia in northwestern Spain, where tradition has it that the remains of the apostle Saint James are buried. "The Way of St. James" or "The Way" has been walked for over a thousand years, by thousands of pilgrims every year. Along with her carefully packed backpack and her broken in hiking boots, Brenda takes with her a big, loving heart and a wide open mind. She does not know what she will find on her journey or what she will leave behind. But her openness will draw people and experiences to her. And Brenda will welcome all of them. I am confident she will find what she needs and leave behind what she no longer has use for. 

Like every pilgrim, Brenda's journey will begin with a single step, followed by another, then another. She will be walking about 20 miles a day, a daunting undertaking if she allows herself to think of it that way. But a single step followed by another? She can do that. With her exuberance and depth of spirit, Brenda will walk The Way with grace and joy. There will surely be rough days, but her wisdom and faith will guide her through them. I know this because her wisdom and faith have helped guide me these past few months. 

Brenda is one of the first people I told about my divorce. She has been present for my relief, sadness, anger, and joy. She has offered comfort, irreverent humor, and the wisdom of someone who's been down this road. When I was feeling particularly overwhelmed by fears about my children, my husband's anger, jobs and money, she stopped me and said, "just take the next right step, and have faith." 

Just take the next right step, and have faith. I can do that. It means I don't have to have everything figured out right now. And taking the time to consider what the next "right" step might be prevents me from blindly crashing through the bushes just to escape my fears. Now, when anxiety wells up in me like a wave, when the path ahead grows steep or is choked in brambles, I ask myself, what is the next right step? And usually I can see a clear spot to place my foot.

Brenda doesn't know what she will find on her spiritual journey. Who ever does? She will walk the camino with open hearted love. And she will find what she needs by taking the next right step, and by having faith. I will too.

Buen Camino, Brenda. Buen Camino.