…There was nothing I could do, trucks and cars passing by me and the road stretching as far as I could see but to put my head down and walk. Reminds me of those long Zen retreats where they keep reminding you ”return to your breath, return to your word”. That’s what I did, returned, over and over again, to the stones and steps. Somehow it worked, I didn’t hear or notice of the trucks and cars and slipped into a quiet zone of simply walking, allowing my mind, eyes and feet to sort out the logistics.
I did look up a few times, once I find myself in front of a sign saying ”Ste S Romuald”, I don’t know what Ste means but Romuald is not a popular saint and to find a sign to him in the midst of this dead road and walk was like a little kiss on the cheek. I say a prayer to Romuald each morning as I set out, as he too was a pilgrim, crossing Europe on his journeys, certainly a special moment.