There are times “The Way” is well marked, but others when we must travel far with no reassurance

 

The Camino, also known as “The Way”, is often well marked; Its bright yellow arrows and scallop shells can be plentiful and well spaced. I remember one turn in our path, as we neared the city of Santiago, where Anne and I laughed out loud at a virtual “flock” of arrows painted on the black asphalt at our feet. There were so many that they resembled bird tracks laid down before us. We had no doubt that we were on the right track!

 

There were other times that we’d be directed by a well placed marker down a road and we’d take off in the right direction with confidence only to find that confidence waning as an hour or more would pass with no additional markers. Invariably I would be the one to crack first: “Hey, have we seen an arrow lately?” I’d ask. Each time this happened Anne would, without fail, answer the same way: “Well no, but they probably think we’re smart enough to see that there were no other turns we could have taken.”

 

I didn’t like “them” assuming anything. In fact, I resented “them” for their assumptions about how much reassurance I would find helpful! I’d grow increasingly agitated, so much so that even Anne would grow a bit anxious. Never mind that she was often correct that there hadn’t been any opportunities to make a wrong turn during the unmarked stretch; On The Camino, as in life, fear can be contagious! 

 

I began to view The Camino as a living entity that sometimes just wanted to mess with me by withholding what I thought I needed. More than once I’d say out loud: “Come on Camino, give me something here. Quit messing with me and send me a sign!” I was kind of kidding. Kind of. The stubborn Camino would often refuse to budge.

 

We’d stop. We’d consult our useless written directions. Inevitably we’d reach the same conclusion: What option did we have but to keep going? So, we would.

 

Right on schedule, right when we really needed it, though long after I wanted it, another arrow would appear to let us know that  it was time to make a crucial turn. Always the dramatic one, I’d make my point to The Camino: “Well THANK YOU!” 

 

Once I’d have my anxiety alleviated, I’d feel a little chagrined. Why had I doubted our path? Why was I anxious when we were simply doing what we’d been clearly directed to do? Why did I always crave reassurance long before I actually needed it?

 

As I’m writing this chapter my daughter, Anna, is in the midst of the long and strenuous medical school application and interview process. One of my “other daughters”,  Emily, is in her first semester of law school. They are both walking down paths to which they were directed by a clear and sure inner voice, but neither of them have received much reassurance about their progress lately. It’s simply too soon. Every day I watch them both just “show up and do the next right thing” even though I hear a lot about how that’s growing really old! It would be nice for them to know that their efforts are paying off. Every day their anxiety rises and I hear: “I need a sign. Am I really on the right path?” Anna starts to wonder if she’ll be in medical school next year. Emily wonders if she’ll even pass this semester. Like Anne and I on The Camino, they crave reassurance. It’s easy for them to forget that they were called to their paths, and that really, what choice do they have than to keep moving forward? It often falls to me to remind them of all the times in the past they were desperate for reassurance: Studying for the LSAT and MCAT, applying to college, tryouts for high school athletic teams and even competition for middle school soccer teams. Back, back, back; The challenges are different but the anxiety is always the same: “Am I on the right track? Will I get what I need?” 

 

I get it. I felt it daily on The Camino. That was tiny compared to other times in my life though, when my anxiety has been virtually crippling, so overwhelming that I hate to revisit it even on these pages.

 

If you are someone who has needed to establish a secure home, or waded through visitation conflict following divorce you know what I mean.

 

If you have a child with a debilitating, possibly life-threatening disease, you know what I’m talking about.

 

If you have ever seen self-inflicted wounds on one of your “babies” and had them tell you that the cuts are necessary to express the excruciating pain they feel on the inside, you too know what I’m talking about.

 

If you have ever failed to hear from one of your children long past when you expected to, and then had that gut terror confirmed by a call from the emergency room, you have been there.

 

If you’ve waited for biopsy results for yourself, or someone you love, you too understand.

 

Never mind that I use, and believe, the mantra: “Everything, everywhere is all right, already.” Sometimes the “knowing” doesn’t mitigate the “feeling”. In those seasons of anxious uncertainty I try my best to just keep moving forward, taking comfort in a favorite quote:

 

     "Have courage for the great sorrows of life

       and patience for the small ones;

       And when you have laboriously accomplished your daily task, go to sleep in              peace.

       God is awake."                                                    -Victor Hugo                                               

       

 

Reflections:

 

On The Camino I learned to anticipate, and even befriend, my anxiety as just another part of the journey. I learned not to resist my desire for reassurance, but did come to understand that I usually crave it long before I actually need it. It’s just who I am. I take comfort in the lesson that “feelings aren’t facts”; Just because I may feel like I’m in jeopardy it doesn’t mean that I am in jeopardy! I hear the words of my cowboy nephew: “Some days you just have to get up and put your boots back on.” What choice is there but to keep walking forward? I find this plan comforting. I feel less frantic in the face of frantic feelings.

 

     1.  Looking back, what have been the scariest seasons in your life? Is there something you know now that you wish you had known then about yourself, or your God, that would have made the anxious uncertainty more bearable?

     2.  Are you anxious, or uncertain about anything today? What would it help to remember about yourself, or your God as you navigate your way forward?