Diary of a Worthy-feeling Kinda-Girl
By Debbie Visser
The journey makes you a pilgrim. This is true when walking the Camino de Santiago, as well as in the journey of life. I’ve learned that the Camino is not simply a path to walk in order to arrive at a final destination. It isn’t merely a test to be passed in order to reach a reward at the end. The Camino is a parable. It is a living parable and reality at the same time. As in life, it is a path one travels both inwardly and outwardly, within the allotted time each day gives. And like the journey of life, if you allow it, the Camino will inhabit you, transforming you into a pilgrim with each step.
Walking to Santiago reminded me of the beautiful simplicity of life. As I walked, all I had was what I was carrying on my back. I soon learned that the lighter my load, the less strain my body felt, allowing me to experience how little one needs to be alive. While walking, you become a sister or brother to a stranger on the Camino. Whatever you have, you must be ready to share with others. In this way, stranger becomes friend.
“Some days, it speaks in a whispering voice, calling you to contemplation. Other days, it speaks to you through the blue skies, rolling hills and winding rivers, beckoning you to be amazed and wonder anew. ”
Although I began my walk alone, I met many companions. That, too, is the nature of the Camino. It breeds the kind of community where “the other” is welcomed. You feel your heart growing with genuine care and affection for your fellow pilgrims. Each day, you share the joys and struggles of the path, and of life, together. Sometimes laughing, other times wiping a tear.
The Camino is also very physical, making demands of your body, head-to-toe. Most days, you must get up in the wee morning hours, even before sunrise. And, despite tired bones and blistered toes, you must walk in darkness, until the sun dawns behind you in the east. With this in mind, I also learned the value of rest along the way. A good night’s sleep is the fuel that keeps the pilgrim going.
The Camino speaks to you. Some days, it speaks in a whispering voice, calling you to contemplation. Other days, it speaks to you through the blue skies, rolling hills and winding rivers, beckoning you to be amazed and wonder anew. It desires you to stop, be still, listen, and admire. And in those moments, you pause to offer blessings for the beauty of nature, your companions on the journey, your own life and, most of all, God who created it all. These are the thoughts that fill my heart as I remember my walk on the Camino de Santiago.
Many events in my life led me to first set foot on the Camino back in August of last year. But mostly it was a devastating accident I’d barely survived, just 10 months earlier. It was an accident that crushed my body and nearly crushed my soul. As I was driving home one November night, a drunk driver careened into my lane traveling at a speed of 180km/h. The damage caused by the head-on collision was catastrophic.
“As I pulled Gabbie from the car, I glanced up to see Aimee. Her head had swollen to three times its normal size and there was a massive, gaping wound that stretched from her left eye to the back of her head...”
The impact knocked me instantly unconscious. When I awakened, my first panicked thoughts were for my sisters, Aimee and Gabbie, who had been riding in the back seat. Still stunned and barely able to move, I looked down to see that the force had thrust the steering wheel into my body, pinning me to my seat. The paramedics would later tell me the distance between the seat and the wheel was a mere 7 centimeters. The resulting trauma cracked both my hips and tore into my uterus and lungs. The ligaments and muscles spanning my shoulder, neck and back were shredded. As my mind began to focus, I could hear Gabbie screaming from the back, “Aimee’s out! Aimee’s out!”
To this day, I do not know how, but I managed to wriggle free, stumble to the back of the car and fling open the door. That’s when horror seized my heart. As I pulled Gabbie from the car to safety I glanced up to see Aimee. Her head had swollen to three times its normal size and there was a massive wound that carved a gaping path from her left eye to the back of her head, leaving her tongue hanging and exposed. I helped Gabbie to the curb, made sure she was okay, and rushed back to Aimee. Fresh horror gripped me as I beheld the broken body of my sweet sister. The nose, jaw and cheek bones of her beautiful face were shattered, crushed and twisted. I gasped as I saw her once blemish-less and tender skin now mangled sliced and severed.
Somehow, we got Aimee out of the car and to the curb. As we waited for the medics to arrive, I held her head together as best I could, prayed and whispered over and over in her lifeless ear. “It’s going to be okay! Help is on the way! Hang on, Aimee!“
My heart breaks to tell you that my dear friend, Isabella, did not survive. For the rest of us, the road to recovery was long and grueling, especially for Aimee. Gabbie and I were hospitalized for three weeks, but Aimee lay in a coma for nearly two months fighting for her life. It took months of intensive reconstructive and cranial surgery and rehab to put her body back together. Even now, she is still undergoing speech therapy, as she has had to learn to talk again. Throughout my own healing, I was determined to be by Aimee’s bedside, day and night. Slowly, we began to heal and find our new normal. But with our injuries, even the most basic, everyday things had become a struggle. In some ways, the psychological, emotional and spiritual recovery was even harder than the physical. At times, I‘d find myself wishing things had turned out differently. I was heartbroken for Aimee and Gabs, wishing I could have taken their pain. I was angry at the negligence of the driver that caused it all. I mourned the loss of my friend.
Over time, I began to realize that, in pouring myself into helping my sister recover, I’d begun to neglect myself. I felt rundown after so many long days and nights of trauma and heartsore. I needed to take the time to care for myself. I felt so tired and broken. But how? I had to find a way to rediscover the joy and goodness of life again. That’s when I decided to do something the doctors told me probably would never happen: I decided to walk the Camino de Santiago. Yes, I wanted to walk to prove them wrong. But more than that, I wanted to prove something to myself. “Did my body, heart and mind have what it takes to walk 750 kilometers?” I wanted to find out.
As I prepared for my walk, so many questions and emotions ran through my mind. “Would I be able to complete the walk?” I asked myself. The injuries to my body still gave me massive pain. I wondered if I would manage to carry my backpack all the way. To top it off, I had no time to get fit or work out before I left. But despite all this, I decided to walk the path in pure faith. I felt like I had a blindfold on. But I was excited and filled with determination.
When I finally arrived at the albergue I’d booked in Saint-Jean-Pied-de-Port, it’d taken me 36 hours of travel from South Africa, my home country. I was emotionally overwhelmed and physically exhausted. But I reminded myself that I was doing this journey for me and no one else. I had to remember that, after caring for my sisters’ trauma all these months, I also needed to care for myself. I say this, not selfishly, but with deep humility and thankfulness.
“When I took my first step on the Camino, I was a broken, confused and worthless-feeling kinda-girl. Now, arriving back home after the end of my journey, I felt like a worthy-feeling kinda-girl! ”
During my walk I remembered again how blessed I was — just to be alive! I’d survived a near-death experience and here I was, walking a path the doctors said I never would. I realized that, although life had changed drastically on the night of the accident, I still had both my sisters. I felt such a sense of thankfulness and appreciation. With a full heart, I embraced every hill and mountain I had to climb with a smile — or, at least an attempted one. Each step I took, a pilgrim heart grew inside me. “I AM able to do this! I AM more than capable! I HAVE the ability and strength!” These were the affirmations I constantly declared to myself as I walked.
There were very hard moments. I faced many physical and emotional battles. But every time I reached the top of the next hill, or arrived at my next destination, I grew stronger. I was one stage closer to completing the journey and I was so proud of myself. I met the most amazing people along the way. People who inspired and uplifted me in the times I needed it the most. Fellow pilgrims who listened to my story and, somehow, related it to their own. I met people who pushed my limits beyond what I’d ever imagined. They welcomed me just as I was, loving me unconditionally, even though they hardly knew me.
When I took my first step on the Camino, I was a broken, confused and worthless-feeling kinda-girl. Now, arriving back home after the end of my journey, I felt like a worthy-feeling kinda-girl! I felt a sense of pride in completing the journey. I felt happy, revitalized, liberated and inspired to face life again…head on. I learned so much about myself and spent time with people who’d changed my life perspective. I learned to listen with my heart and pay attention to the stories of the people around me. I learned that, sometimes, it’s okay to not be okay. I learned that it’s my responsibility to look after myself. I learned that having “me-time” isn’t about being selfish or mean. That it is about loving yourself, even as you love others.
With life comes unexpected, uncomfortable and sometimes heart-breaking situations. But, isn’t that what makes us all pilgrims? It was climbing all those Camino hills that made my pilgrim’s heart grow strong. I believe it is the attitude of the heart that determines the outcome when we face life’s most difficult situations.
The Camino brought a sense of comfort. It whispered subtle answers to the questions of my heart. It reminded me that I am not alone in this world. My Camino friends have become a lifelong family to me. Now, we walk together as lifelong pilgrims in the Camino of life.
The Camino is beautiful, full of life and happiness. Yes, it comes with up’s and down’s. But, hey, that’s what really makes the journey worth it. As you walk your Camino, I hope you, too, will find subtle answers to questions you have. I think you’ll find it reveals answers in ways you may not foresee. And remember, life is a beautiful mystery. I wouldn’t have it any other way. I would do it all over again, in a heartbeat. This will not be my last Camino. There are more hills to climb. In the meantime, my prayer is that your Camino walk will be just as liberating for you, as it was for me.
Walk the Camino with Debbie in her amazing photo journal:
