Camino Primitivo Day 11 - The Voids of Loss and the Path of Life

Self-reflection on an easier day of hiking on some of the big life changes many of us are going through

Reflecting on the Camino

Today’s Camino stage was the last on the Primitivo, or Original Way, from Oviedo, that in my destination of Melide joins the more famous (and far more crowded) Camino Frances, or French Way, to Santiago. I’m now following in the footsteps of a Camino pioneer, Jason P., and our text exchanges are picking up on his favorite pulpo eateries and other fun and inspiring stops.

The past ten days have been rich in history, culture, and the spiritual, but as my steps take me closer to my destination and the end of my first Way of St. James, my mind returns to life back home, including my concerns and worries, sadness at loss, and what might come next.

I’ve shared my blessings here with you, deeply felt, and, free of responsibilities for a little while, fully immersed in the the natural beauty of the Spanish landscape, enhanced by the spiritual nature of the Way, and enhanced by good exercise. But these days are also a time of loss, of change, and of transition, and I’d guess many of you, perhaps of a similar age, are in the same boat. In preparing for this trip, and Why I’m Walking the Way of St. James (My Day 0 post), I shared that I had a few life events on my mind, so here we go. Writing this blog helps me in my own process of reflection, and I hope I can express myself well enough so that, maybe, it resonates.

Losing Oma. Four years ago my mother, loved by many, lost her battle with cancer and departed us, at the age of 82. She led a full and rich life, yes with its heartache and frustration and many labors, but always loving to the fullest and unconditionally, especially my brothers and me. She brought that love to my wife Heather and especially fiercely to her granddaughters Kate and Ellie, her first girls, enriching our lives. Oma was a big presence in my life, overwhelmingly so in a sometimes troubled childhood but continuing into adulthood and fatherhood, and losing her left a gaping void. She, too, felt the blessing of her children and grandchildren, and expressed gratitude for including her in our lives, that she often thanked us for being among the happiest times in her life.

My rational side knows that we as frail human beings don’t live forever, that we’re granted a short time on Earth, and that the joy of loved ones will end. I know all this, but I felt robbed by the unfairness of cancer and human frailty that took her too early, regret, perhaps irrationally unfounded, at not having made more of our time together, and the pain of that void inside, once a space filled with love and light, lingers.

As I marched along on those high ridges, I tried to convince myself that it was the time we had together, and the love she brought, that I should keep warmly in my heart, and carry forward in life and share on with others, living by her example. And as I promised her near the end, to be the engaged and devoted parent and grandparent to my children and grandchildren that she was, I realized that maybe that’s a way to fill the void - with new love.

My children leaving home, AKA “the empty nest.” I shared some of my many blessings of fatherhood a few days ago, on Father’s Day, that happened to coincide with one of my greatest days on the Way, high above the mountains and lakes of Asturias, meditating in perfect silence. My daughters shaped me and made me a better man, and twenty three years of kids at home fills your reality, and their departure, the natural and proper end of their childhoods and whole dependence on you, opened yet another void. With the blessing, I have decades with my daughters ahead, with, hopefully, rich new experiences and love, when they can share time from their amazing independent lives ahead, that I promise to earn, to never take for granted, and to treasure.

The end of “career.” As many of you know, I spent the last fourteen years, and five earlier in my professional history, in public service at the federal level. Profoundly influenced by my German heritage via Oma and the immersive living experience in Cold War Berlin that my parents enriched our lives with, I early on knew I wanted to make a better world. The nineties were a time of great optimism - the fall of the Soviet Union, the freeing of Eastern Europe, and what seemed like the end of history in favor of democracy promised a better future. With the rise of the Internet and globally interconnected communities, professional opportunities arose in information technology, and later, to secure the American public, relying on it in virtually every realm of our lives, from the “bad guys” who would steal our data, defraud us, and even prepared to disrupt critical infrastructure, causing pain and death. I steadily took on more interesting roles, gaining in experience and expertise, working with talented and dedicated public servants on a common mission.

Starting a few months ago, senior leadership of US government, democratically elected, brought a different set of political priorities and a different philosophy to governance and especially to public service. This is entirely their prerogative, reflecting the values of the (slim) majority that elected them, and based in the Constitution that I swore to protect.

I found fairly quickly that I personally do not share many of those values and priorities, and that I could not in good conscience serve to advance them or even, in some cases, even continue to be associated with them. Embraced by the global community of Camino pilgrims, many with shared values and purpose, just feeds my passion for building global communities, especially with our closest cousins in Europe, as a way to build a better future. I feel the US should play a leadership role in helping those less fortunate, at home and all over the world, commensurate with our immense wealth and power and the responsibility that comes with it.

Furthermore, like many other public servants, I felt denigrated and demeaned, and even expertise itself, that I tried to cultivate, came under assault. With the threat of terminations looming, feeling increasingly discarded, and weary of the toxicity, I decided to exit public service, pausing and possibly ending my government career, and to pursue new directions that would bring me more self-fulfillment in a more positive work environment, and, ideally, let me contribute to a better world.

When you devote yourself to a career space, to a vocation, a calling, an area of compelling professional interest, for thirty-four years non-stop in my case, it of course becomes a big part of you, of your identity. When ending careers or even retiring completely (a stage I’m not quite at), this loss of identity, that comes with recognition and respect and purpose, can be tough, and I do feel it, another potential void.

But I’ve found, even before this journey, that I’ve been slowly letting go of my work identity, my “Innie” (for Severance fans), especially after helping launch my daughters in their new lives. Indeed, knowing that my compensation was largely devoted to raising my daughters brought a sense of purpose, and some resolve to overcome the toxicity or even the little daily indignities and frustrations of work life, my patience with which is rapidly declining as I get older, maybe typical with changing values.

I’ve increasingly found joy not in my day job, but rather in building community, in shared experiences, in the love of my wife and daughters and family and friends. In new learning and growth. In physical challenge and exploration. In pondering the Universe and the human condition. The Way, while short, really, really hit the mark, and while I’m doing this first one solo, so as to focus a bit on self-care at this big time of change personally (and who really wants to be distracted from the beautiful mountaintop scenery by Jimmer crying near an old stone wall below a wind turbine?), some group fun is definitely in the cards, including a couple of friend trips this fall. And that are definitely in the blog roadmap.

So I’ll end there today. I’ve thrown some hints on what might lie ahead, on paths that beckon, that I’ll save for one of the few remaining blogs, probably when I hope to reflect on the End of the World and Beyond. Also below some of today’s photos.

Have a blessed day,

Jimmer

Spent good part of today walking with this 81 year old Austrian guy, who kept a great strong pace. He’d also walked those tough paths since Oviedo. Staying fit has GOT to be a priority. I named him the Dean of the Camino Primitivo

This friendly guy just sat by the road, waiting to play fetch

This one is unposed; the Dean kept taking pictures.