What I love about Matthew

The last few weeks I've spent walking, walking and still more walking with a brief few days spent in Michigan visiting my kiwi brother and long time pragmatic friend, Matthew.
Matthew's lifestyle and belief system is completely different from mine but somewhere, beyond reason and a mystery to many, our core's connect. In karmic comedy we have been thrown together this time around living out our own corrupted version of the Odd Couple. Our twenty year friendship includes a decade of being flatmates. Who ever said the eyes are the window to the soul never shared a kitchen and bathroom with Matthew. In addition to the insight provided, it was a trial by fire of my intestinal fortitude ....Matthew's Oscar Maddison, challenged the Felix Unger in me without apology. Although it had been five years since we'd last seen one another and much had changed in our personal lives, we had no trouble picking up from where we left off. Our Camino conversation went something like this;

"So, you still haven't found yourself and are hoping that walking 500 miles will turn you, up...man, why don't you just get a treadmill?"

"Because I hate to exercise."

He screwed up his face, momentarily stumped. In traditional Matthew fashion, he moved on.

"What exactly is supposed to happen to you on this thing...this walk? Is it like enlightenment or something?"

"Enlightenment would be nice, but I'm not holding my breath on that one. I'm hoping that it ends up being a very good walk...maybe gain some insights, some direction...witness a few miracles. That sort of thing."

"Mmmhmm." He nodded in support and in the spirit of true friendship did not allow the lack of detail to cloud how important it was to me. He posed a final question about my journey.
"When you get back, will you get a tattoo to say you did it?"

Now, up until that moment, I really hadn't considered a tattoo. Within a split second my response was out of my mouth and set in stone....surprising even me!
"That's a great idea! Yes, I will get a tattoo to say I did it. A scallop shell with a hint of something meaningful ....It'll come to me."

"Cool. That'll be awesome."

My enthusiasm for his suggestion instantly validated the Camino for him. He now had something concrete, a purpose, for one enduring such a long walk when simply purchasing a treadmill should suffice. The spiritual pieces of the puzzle were, in his mind, secondary to the mystery of choosing the perfect tat that would somehow explain it all. It is in visiting his world of unconditional support, heavy metal and horrendous habits that I am reminded what I love about Matthew.

You must break an Egg to make scrambled sense

Much of this week's preparation has been focused on the mind branch of mind, body, spirit; contemplating, churning, stewing and theorizing. When I asked, in meditative prayer, for an intellectual piece of the Camino, one that I could digest and apply to my own unspoken desires, I was led to a study about chickens, of all things. At first, I didn't recognize the significance of the chicken study, tempted to ask again, in case the universe didn't quite catch my drift or was messing with me. Something prompted me to err on the side of faith and patience, not to be so quick to dismiss it. I'll do my best to share what I learned and tie it all together without sounding insane.





As a chick develops inside an egg, the surrounding environment..the hard shell and the gooey stuff act as protector and provider. The shell literally shelters the embryo from outside disturbances allowing it to grow and become in its' very own time space. The gooey stuff, for lack of a technical term, nourishes the chick as it grows. Delicately balancing the art of giving nutrients while providing a space for waste that occurs during gestation.





There comes a time, at around 21 days, where the surrounding environment inside the egg no longer serves as haven and provider. On the contrary, within the shell walls, the environment becomes toxic, threatening the very survival of the life form it was designed to protect. In a twist of cosmic irony, the chick is literally dying to be born. Prompted by survival, the chick exhausts itself, pecking away at the hard inner walls of its' protective sanctuary turned prison.

So strong is the chick's quest and desire to be born that neither fear nor confinement can deter its' commitment. The chick has to be born and so it is.



After I finished reading, it took me a few moments to understand the parallel that I was given. I had asked that my mind be provided with some sense of reason for which I am drawn to the road known as Camino. Spiritually I felt it, but intellectually I struggled to make sense of it, that is, until I understood how much of a chicken I truly am. For in my own life, has not my environment, the thoughts occupying my mind, become toxic? Hasn't being surrounded by the shell of civilization and its' promise of liberation; work, possessions, bills, deadlines etc. turned on me, suddenly becoming my captor? Like the chick, I too am dying to be born and neither fear nor confinement can detract from that commitment. So it would seem that I have found the scrambled sense needed to satisfy my intellect. The Camino is where I begin pecking away, driven by the desire to be born....and so it is.