Keep Walking

I was driving down 495 when a torrential downpour hit. Lightening, thunder, the works. 495 turned into a parking lot. We crawled along at a turtle's pace while I jammed to some good tunes; I love a roaring thunderstorm. Then a huge rainbow shone across the eastern sky. I made my way to Starbucks for my afternoon cup of joe, hitting every green light on the way, picked up a cup of liquid joy between rain bursts, drove to my afternoon appointment in another downpour, and just after I arrived, the rain ceased.

And that's sort of how things have gone since I returned from my walk. The Camino has been like a massive umbrella sheltering me, protecting me from the torrential downpour of Washington, D.C.’s traffic, politics, commercials, road rage, angry people, insane jobs, all trying to interfere with my peace and serenity. I am back in the urban grind but it is not back in me.

I am free of the strangleholds that once kept me here; my job, my affections. I have no interest in reintegrating into the madness of the Washington Metro Area. My stay here is now, only temporary. I have set my heart on Oregon, a place that is a little more sane, where people work to live instead of live to work. I want to slow down, simplify my life, be closer to nature, and breathe. I don’t know when or how this will happen, but I trust it will, in its own time. The road will rise up to meet me so long as I put one foot in front of the other and keep on walking, or in my case, writing.