Part 11: from Santo Domingo to Belorado
The path runs along a main road occasionally diverting into towns and across fields. This part of the Camino takes pilgrims from wine into wheat country, from the Province of Rioja into the Province of Castilla y Leon. Belorado was once a frontier town where Christians, Jews, and Muslims lived in harmony until 1498 when Jews were expelled from Spain.
It’s been 10 months since my last post. I’ve been busy learning, creating, and flowching (short for “flow coaching.”) Writing has been very much on the back burner as I entertain a lot of, “why bother? Nothing I could write that hasn’t been written before” thinking. But when my cousin Claire emailed me a few days ago sharing how much she missed my musings, a new thought appeared out of nowhere: “You take pictures of stuff that has been photographed a thousand times and you even publish them on social media.” Ha. Gotcha.
Funny how we develop opinions about what is acceptable and what isn’t, about what endeavors are worth a shot and which ones are better nipped in the bud.
As if we could know.
I started this Camino-in-place almost 3 years ago because I yearned for a new adventure from the comfort of my own home. As far as I could tell at the time, stepping out in the world was not in the cards for me anymore. My wild years, if I ever had any, were over and it was obvious that I was being called to stay put and explore more contained territories.
As if I could know.
Life has surprised me at every turn. It’s presented me with an understanding that’s allowed me to heal my long struggle with anxiety. I’ve traveled and trained as a Transformative Coach in Europe and am now coaching people all over the world. I’ve broken through outer and inner frontiers and landed, wide-eyed, in the space of pure possibility and miracles.
That’s what happens when we stop believing the crazy stories our minds keep feeding us. Stories of unworthiness, guilt, or − my personal favorite ─ comfort zones. That’s what happens when we see through the veil of what we think we know and get curious about all that we don’t know. And when we get a glimpse of what lies beyond the familiar, walls magically turn into doors.
Life, my friends, is an invitation to dance with the “I don’t know.” It’s the glorious paradox of finding safety in a space without nets.
So for the foreseeable future I will bother, and, yes, I’ll write. Whether you choose to read or follow me, please know that you too are made for this dance. You were born humming the melody. It’s written on your soul.
“Life knows everything that we don’t know.” –Marina Galan
PS #12: It is safe not to know
If you’d like to explore further or are looking for support, please email me at firstname.lastname@example.org
Follow me on Instagram: mgcflowching
Maryse Godet Copans © 2020