Free Sunrises to Santiago: Searching for Purpose on the Camino de Santiago by Gabriel Schirm

arrival to Santiago. It
really is quite powerful as I think of the thousands who have stood
in this very spot over the centuries.
    After
mass, our stomachs lead us back to the albergue for an amazing feast
that we are told is paid for by the previous night ’ s
donations! The room is full of pilgrims dining communal style,
swapping stories, and making new international friends. I make
friends with a man sitting beside me named Tom .
    Tom
is bald with a silvery goatee and a sunburned face. He is slightly
overweight and has gentle, kind, gray eyes. We start with the polite
details of life. I learn that he is retired, is from the United States, but currently calls France
home. As we talk about our motivation for this journey, he suddenly
opens up and tells me his reason for walking. I feel a flash of shame
as I think about my stupid petty
problems.
    He
and his 30-year-old daughter had traveled together while on vacation
a few years ago in Spain. During their trip, they spotted some people
walking the Camino de Santiago and made plans to do it together
someday . They
agreed it could be an amazing father and daughter bonding
experience. His daughter returned home, and only a few months after
making plans with her father, took her own life.
    “ A
suicide I did not see coming. I can ’ t
understand why. The why. That is what is haunting me,” Tom says,
the words tumbling out from somewhere deep inside him.
    I
don ’ t know what to say
as the people around us continue to talk and eat their food. Tears
try to fight their way out, but he successfully holds them at bay.
What an incredible amount of pain he must be carrying with him as he
walks. He is suffering a pain far greater than any physical ailment
any of us in the room have experienced thus far.
    I
simply stare at my plate and poke my food. I make lame attempts at
finding words of comfort as so many do when they hear something so
raw.
    “ This is my
second Camino. I
plan to walk each year until I no longer am able, ” his
voice cracks as he looks down at his plate, still fighting back
tears. I put my hand on his shoulder and say the only thing that
comes to mind, “ I
am so sorry. ”
The words are inadequate. I
truly hope he finds peace through this journey.
    After
dinner, we all pitch in cleaning up and giving a donation so that
tomorrow ’ s
pilgrims can also enjoy a good meal. The night does not end as all of
us are invited to a group meditation in the back of the church. I
feel like Indiana Jones as we slip through a
small hidden door and
find our seats in giant black carved wooden chairs
in the back of the church. The dim room is lit only by candles. Amy
and I are wide eyed and don ’ t
quite know what to expect. I look around the room and through the
candlelight see six or seven other pilgrims who have settled into
their seats.
    The
hospitalero quiets everyone and speaks softly, holding a candle to
his face. “ Why
are you here, peregrinos? ”
He slowly repeats the question as he scans the room, “ Why … are … you ... here? ”
    We
are asked to think about our reasons for walking the Camino de
Santiago, and we all do so in silence . Then,
one by one, the candle is
passed around the room, and we can either share our reasons out
loud with
the group or simply keep it to ourselves. I keep my mouth closed and
pass it along. I feel foolish now after hearing
Tom ’ s
story. What do I have to complain about? The silence is golden.
    We
sit in silent candlelight in meditation and reflection for a while
before being led down into the church as the hospitalero points out
carved figures and stained glass renditions of the Camino shell.
Experiencing this level of intimate history is incredible.
    After
this amazing session, I feel spiritually refreshed and physically
exhausted. My body still hurts as I fall to my mat on the floor back
in the albergue. Another surprise awaits. A man from Portugal, a
complete stranger, gestures for me to stay still and begins massaging
my