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I love little tests that we either we happen upon unexpectedly or consciously put ourselves through since each such event tells us something about who we are, what our values are, and what we might expect from ourselves in the future.

I just came back from four days of hiking on the medieval pilgrim trail in northern Spain called the Camino de Santiago (the Way of St. James).  I was leading a group of 25 American and 20 Spanish teenagers down four contiguous stages of this old route, four days up and down some not insignificant hills on rock-strewn paths that wound their way through vineyards and wheat fields and small towns and villages.  Now, you might think I am nuts for undertaking such an adventure; teenagers can be hard enough to deal with under good circumstances, and surely one is plenty, but forty five?  I must be crazy!!!

Actually, quite the reverse is true.  First, teens have this seemingly genetic need to be with each other, and they never seem to run out of things to say, people and situations to talk about, and opinions to dole out.  They actually do a good job taking care of each other and in that sense only need gentle (even if repeated) reminders about what is expected of them.

Secondly, I find that most are up for a challenge, even want one that is different from the typical challenge they face in their academic life, or team sports life back home.  There is something that is both structured and yet unstructured about this kind of walking.  The path is obvious, and in this case well marked, so you never really have much of a chance of getting lost (although five of our girls managed to do so the first day, and even I, in my unfocused enthusiasm on the third morning, managed to miss a trail sign and take a half an hour detour which left me, well, let’s just say somewhat perturbed with myself, fine example I was setting!!)  So, in this sense, there is a structure that mirrors in some fashion something of the life they are used to back home.

However, and this is the beauty of hiking, it frees the mind to go where it will.  The effort isn’t so great that you can think of nothing but the energy involved in the process (as can be the case with running).  The rhythm of walking allows thought to run where it will, follow its own lead, and define its own reality.  Sometimes there is no rational process going on at all, just a series of images floating through a space that has, finally, been decluttered and allowed to find its own level.  Isn’t that what creativity is all about?  So, in that sense, walking is a creative process, one that too often in our overly structured world we are not allowed the luxury to experience.

To watch what each student does with that time and space is rather interesting.  Some prefer the company of larger numbers (groups of four or five); others like walking with just one other person; still others prefer to set their own pace.  We had one lad who was a rocket and just took off down the path, tuned into his own zone, and finished in record time.  One group of girls never separated and just seemed to grow in closeness over the course of four days, each encouraging the other as they all fought through fatigue, allergies, blisters, and strains of a variety of kinds.  That is true companionship and sisterhood.  Others found no point in just walking for four days, getting from one place to the next.  While it may not be obvious now, I am convinced that reflection and maturity will show each of them the broader context in which to view their experience of these past four days, and I can’t help but feel that future challenges and difficulties will be measured, in part at least, against their ability to deal with physical discomfort that doesn’t disappear, with the mental challenge of just moving forward when the rest of your psyche is screaming for you to stop, and with the spiritual discomfort that some felt of the seemingly vast void of miles and miles of empty space (how DO you deal with the fear of aloneness when most of your life you are surrounded by people and civilization).

I can’t help but feel, then, that there is a significant lesson to be learned from what we did over the past four days.  I wish them many more challenges, many more discomforts, and as much time out of their comfort zone as is possible so that their souls can be stretched into the adult they need to be:  someone not afraid to face the unknown, the lonely and hostile stretches of the “Camino” that is their life on this earth.  These “wounds” are the basis of growth.  May they grow and prosper, and I hope that I helped in some small way toward that growth.

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