Well, it’s over. 58 days of travel in Spain and France and I am currently lounging on my couch in New Hampshire. A simple task, a house I’ve known for 21 years, and yet my thoughts are in a whirlwind.
The common question: are you so excited to be home?! I don’t know…yes? No? I have no idea. What was your favorite part of the trip?? Uhm….I don’t know. There were goods and bads to everything. Did you have so much fun?! I guess so.
Clearly, I have lost my touch with words. Honestly, this trip was just so complex I don’t think there’s any simple answer to these questions that so many people are dying to ask me. It was a trip that was supposed to teach me so much about myself, right? And maybe it has. Or it will. But I don’t think I’ll fully realize all the good and change it’s done in me for a little while. It’s that type of thing, that grows inside you without you fully realizing it. It wasn’t simply a vacation. It wasn’t a summer holiday. It wasn’t as simple as going away to school for a year and coming back. Somehow, in two months, everything’s different.
So what’s it feel like then? Day one. Being home. Well, in just one day back, I’m already feeling lost. Even since I left Spain for the five or so days I spent in Paris, I was already missing it. I miss the Spanish culture, the language, the lifestyle. On top of that, I miss Camino life. I miss walking every day (crazy, right?) I miss the simplicity of it. Of waking up with the sun, tying my hiking shoes, taking everything I needed on my back, and walking on to a new place for the day.
Today, I woke up in my own bed. In my own room. The same room that’s been mine for 21 years. And I felt out of place. I took a shower in the same bathroom I’ve known my whole life and it felt strange. There’s too much. Too much space. Too many rooms. Too much house. I’ve become so accustomed to a single bunk, a single room, one tiny space that was mine and Maverick’s. I sat on my couch and felt confused and lost this afternoon. I should be walking. Or going somewhere. Moving on to the next place. I felt like I’d lost my purpose.
And there’s too many people. People texting me. Wanting to see me. Asking questions. Being loud. I just want to walk away from it all. Turn my phone off. Retreat back into the silence of the trail. There’s too many options. It’s too easy to fall back in a pattern of life that I no longer want to have.
I want life to mean something. I want to mean what I say. Mean what I do and put my efforts towards. To be wholly invested in where I am at the moment. I want to be authentic and present and grounded. I think as simple as that sounds, when you’re in this every day life in America it’s hard. It’s hard to be that type of person in today’s society. I’m already realizing that after just a day back. I think I found who I want to be on El Camino. I’m scared I’m going to lose her in America.
Everyone asks if it’s good to be home, and the answer is yes. It’s great to sleep in my own bed. It’s great to have a couch to sit on. Friends to get a burrito with. A job that’s excited for me to return. That’s all amazing. But it’s hard, too. The truth of the matter is, I’m not the same person that left this place 57 days ago. I’m not sure just how different I am yet, but I know I’ve changed. I can feel it inside even if it hasn’t shown outside yet. And it’s going to take some time to figure out how I fit back here.
Welcome home Colby, I wish I had the answers to your questions, which are the same questions that are stopping me make my plans to do the Camino. I ache to do this challenge but I dread coming back and slotting back to ‘normal’ life. Only you know how this has changed you, but to everyone around you, you are still the same. The same daughter, sister, friend. I hope you keep hold of the Colby you’ve become and keep on moving forward. If you miss walking then go out and ‘get lost’ in your familiar surroundings, you will see things in a completely different light when you look with new eyes. And every so often, sleep under the stars with your faithful friend. He may not speak our language but he knows your heart. Sending love. Janice x