So in the many hours afforded those couples who choose to walk the Camino, and more, the endless Meseta, we’ve been talking about owning your own shit, the bitter pill of accepting that you’ve created your own internal reality, created your own pain, and the simultaneous elation and liberation that that realization provides – I have agency in my own experience. It’s possibly founded in these presuppositions:
- Most feelings come from our thinking (not the external world).
- Some feelings are pre-cognitive, a result of nurture or biological evolution. In these cases, the feelings generated may once have saved us from mammoth attack or untenable childhood situations, but they’re not effective now, we have choice.
- Immense trust and vulnerability are required to move into this space.
- There’s a point at which it’s not your own shit, when a boundary has been crossed and this needs to be called out, however incredible discernment is required both to understand that this moment has occurred and to respond in a way that conserves the dignity of all concerned – to respond with love.
How do I catch myself in the moment of an emotional charge, in the midst of an emotional reaction to some event, and transmute that into peace; calm the temporary disturbance of the still pond of my soul? Moreover, how do I do that without apportioning blame for my feelings to some external entity, to the person that I love?
Without wine of course, such achievements would be impossible….”In vino Veritas”, the truth is in the wine. Tonight there’s plenty of truth.
Today was delightful. We seem to have positioned ourselves into a moving envelope of perfect weather. Our Austrian friend tells us it was two degrees this morning (at 6am perhaps), but at 7, when we wiped the sleep from our eyes, maybe five, and perhaps eight degrees when we hit the road. The owners grinned proudly behind their imaculate and well stocked bar (resplendent with lumo pink rubber rosary beads) for Di’s photo before we stepped out into the brisk brilliance of a May blue sky.
First stop Carrion where, sadly, we’re too early for the singing nuns of Carrion de los Condes. My botched attempt at a few versus of ‘climb every mountain’ does little to fray our disappointment (I think I started in too high a register resulting in blackboard screeching, cardiac arresting back end to ‘….until you find your dream’.).
Coffees in Carrion, then we got lost and separated when Di went in search of more tooth paste and I, an atmospheric stroll in a market continuous since the 1600s. I trust the tracky dacks and Gucci rip offs were of better quality in the days of yore but the rockin Spanish pop revival, chicken rotisserie truck by the church was top end. This of course was my demise. I lingered too long in the roast chicken aroma – Spanish top-ten ambiance, left the market by a back alley and found myself in a place entirely unfamiliar.
By a happy coincidence, Di’s pharmacological sojourn had been prolonged by the discovery of a new range of Spanish magic night creams and she stepped out onto the footpath just as I rounded a corner. Future blogs might report on the power of the night cream’s ‘magic’. Or not.
It’s 17km dead straight and flat from Carrion to Calzadilla de la Cueza. We loved it. Blue sky and green fields to the distant snow capped peaks, purple alfalfa flowers, red poppies, blue/purple corn flowers, yellows, whites … stunning.
There’s an enterprising young man with a drinks van 7km in and we stop for coffee and orange juice. We pass the German girls, Lisa and Lionita multiple times and swap hellos before dropping into Calzadilla de la Cueza around 3pm.
It looks like a set for a western movie, a compact set of shops bound by Prairie. The Albergue host who exudes an eye watering mix of lynx and red wine demonstrates the ‘proper’ heart to heart pilgrim greeting with Di before advising that we’re in the wrong place.
The Real Camino Hostel (not albergue) is delightful and after settling in, Peter Getzels joins us for dinner; white bean and muscle soup and stewed beef with salad (and a bottle of local truth). He’s a very interesting guy (bio off the net below), in semi retirement, and taking this time to explore new directions. Tomorrow he’s back home to London.
This is wheat country but some fields, at least, are fallow, and we think this is a great metaphor for the Camino, a time to nourish, replenish and prepare for what’s to come.
Peter Getzels
Peter Getzels is the Emmy Award-winning producer/director and co-creator of Closer To Truth. He comes to filmmaking as an anthropologist, explorer, and mountaineer. Getzels is noted for high-concept, cutting-edge films that have been distributed around the world. A seasoned filmmaker of observational narratives, he has worked in over 40 countries. Getzels conducted his fieldwork in the Peruvian Andes, spent a winter in the Himalayan villages of Ladakh, and kayaked from north to south along the coast of Vietnam. His films have taken him to war zones, to hill tribes in Southeast Asia, to ships in the South Pacific, and up some of the world’s highest peaks.
Recent award-winning feature length theatrical documentaries include The Penguin Counters, filmed in the Antarctic as well as Harvest of Empire, which won Best of Independent documentaries from Cine Golden Eagle, Best Documentary from the Imagen Foundation, and the ABC News Video Source Award from the IDA among other awards.
Getzels has worked in China on many projects including series director/producer of the Emmy Award-winning China’s Challenges. He has a BA in Anthropology & Comparative Religion (Bowdoin College), an M.Sc. in Anthropology (London School of Economics), and an MFA (National Film and TV School, England). In addition to running boutique production company Getzels Gordon Productions, he has worked as staff producer in the BBC Science Department, as well as staff director and series producer at National Geographic.
