The Meaning of the Shell

I am a certified water-lover. Nothing feeds my soul quite as much as being near, in or on the water. Throughout my adult years this has taken shape in regular vacations to beach resorts in sunny climes, and summers spent living on a boat on the water near my home. Being on the water makes me happy.

Discovering that the official symbol of the Camino de Santiago is a shell was a delight for me. I initially cared less about the origin of the symbol than what it means to me personally: a connection to the sea, a place of birth and continual regeneration.

For my birthday this year we rented a car and drove to the town of Santander on the Atlantic coast of Spain. I expected a small coastal village and was surprised with a bustling, modern city of nearly a quarter million people. And beaches that stretched, mile after mile, on each side of the bay, on both sides of the point, and just about everywhere you look around the city. My kind of beach town!

We walked in the sand, waded in the brisk ocean water, and marveled at the beauty of a day that turned out bright, sunny and warm. Throughout the day, despite forays into the city for lunch, for lodging and more, we returned again and again to walk in the sand, chasing waves, burying our toes, and writing in the sand.

At one point, Timothy wrote with a stick in the sand, “Feliz cumpleaños mi amor.” Within minutes, a large wave swept in and completely erased the message. As the water flowed back out, there was no trace of the message, written with love in the sand.

I was struck by thinking how love, once written deep in our hearts, can be erased with betrayal, hurt and distance. Like the sand, where we once saw a message of love and comfort, perhaps now there was nothing. Nothing but a blank beach, waiting for a new message that will be carved even deeper. What would I write on that beach?

At another point we hiked to the top of a hill and looked out over the sea. In the distance was a small island, crowned by a lighthouse, surrounded by rocks. The waves crashed in a hypnotic, repeated rhythm. Endlessly, effortlessly, powerfully. Over time, the rocks were worn into patterns from the continual pounding of the waves.

I thought about rhythms in my own life. What could I gain from the consistent, repeated actions that would, by their very repetitiveness, give me power and strength? What actions would I choose to make habitual? What strength would my habits give me?

I wear the Camino shell on a bracelet on my wrist. It has been there, tied and secure, for a year and a half. Timothy wears a shell necklace, day and night. Both of us choose to wear these symbols of the Camino to remind us of the peace and renewal we experienced on the Camino.

I’m delighted that the symbol of the Camino is a shell. It may originally have come from a reference of St. James and the sea, but for me, it carries a different meaning.

To me, the shell speaks of the power of the sea to wash away our past, our pain and our sadness, and to give us a chance to start fresh. Like the sea, some days are calm and some days are so stormy we fear for our lives, but we go on. We ebb and we flow, and we create strength and power simply in the constancy of our being.

In the shell, we see hope, we see love, we see life.