Letting go of your burdens makes mountains easier to climb.
When I decided to join a group of young adults I had never met and hike 170 miles on the Camino de Santiago with them, all while doing college courses, I had no idea what to expect. The critics told me “You’re crazy” and that traveling to a different country with total strangers is a recipe for disaster. They would tell me “You’re not strong enough to walk 170 miles with your weak back and broken spirit.” While these critics may be taking my well-being into consideration, I was completely focused on the lessons I would learn and the connections I would build.
It was our fifth day into the Camino and we arrived at the first incline of the trip. We had to hike ten miles uphill, rising over 2000 feet in elevation, then go down another six miles before lunch time. I woke up to my alarm vibrating under my ear at 5 am. I could hear the shuffles of peoples’ sheets as they climbed out of bed to prepare for the day ahead. It was chilly when I took off my blanket and the humidity was already sticking to my skin. My feet ached from the previous day’s long stretch. I knew that sending my twenty-five-pound bag to the next Albergue had been a wise decision the moment I stepped outside. I stepped out into the dark morning and was greeted by a big heavy fog. I could only see fifteen feet in front of me and it was all uphill.
We began walking. An hour in we stopped for breakfast, warm coffee and a chocolate croissant. I had realized that morning I hadn’t packed a raincoat and the weather forecast predicted rain for the next three hours. So, I began asking around to see if anyone from our group had an extra raincoat they were willing to let me use. My new friend, Eva, offered me hers. Eva is funny, kind, and a strong person. Despite her introverted nature, I saw her as one of the most outgoing people on the trail.
She was always talking with new people and making them feel comfortable enough to open up about themselves. After she lent her coat to me we began walking to one of the most known sights on the trail, the iron cross. It’s the place on the trail people come to lay down their burdens in the form of a rock. As we were walking Eva reached over and offered an earbud and asked, “Want to listen to worship while we walk to the cross?”
I took the ear bud and it started raining. I picked up a rock and imagined it as the burdens I was carrying. “You’re crazy for thinking that you are strong enough to let go of your pride and hike 170 miles with total strangers while getting along with them.” The words of the critics rang in my mind. I imagined all of the pain I had felt from my past and I imagined all the people I felt responsible for, I imagined them being that rock. I felt the rain fall on me and the weight of the rock as I held it.
As we approached the cross there were at least twenty-five people approaching the cross with their own rocks. I watched as each of them went up, tears falling from their eyes, and laid their rock down. In that moment, I saw the gift of freedom. Walking up and laying my rock down, I felt my body weight lessen and I stood taller. The rain poured on my face as I breathed in the atmosphere. I felt the love of the Lord and let it wash over me.
As we hiked the next 8 miles up and down the mountain, I felt so light—so joyful. I was not defined by what the critics said, but was fueled by them. This journey has allowed me to grow in many ways, and I would encourage others who are searching for freedom and community to travel abroad. Getting out of your comfort zone is scary. Don’t let that fear stop you from leaving the nest. A bird is meant to fly, after all. Climbing those mountains became easier the second I let go of my burdens and I will continue to apply this to my life daily.
