A Walk to Remember

*cue Mandy Moore*

Cheesiness aside, it’s taken a bit of time to contemplate and regurgitate what the hell happened in August 2024, so let’s go back a little bit.

To give you a recap— 2024 was a very challenging year in my work, along with the deaths of 9 loved ones. Yes, I said 9, There have been 15 in total in the past 2 years.

That is a lot of grief.

If any of you have ever grieved or lost a loved one, especially when it was unexpected, or expected but just devastating, then you might also know what I mean when I say I lost a LOT of people in that process.

People who didn’t know what to say.

People who’ve never grieved.

People who are no longer benefitting from you supporting them. People who don’t have the resources, skills, or desires to return the support you may have given.

Fairweather friends.

Your perspective just changes when you go through immense loss. Now imagine that happening 15 times and you might not recognize yourself.

Also, some of us are just assholes when we grieve. It’s really hard to know when you are so deep in it.

Luckily after 15, I’ve gotten my stride with the walk of death.

Fast forward to March— I was talking to an (Ex) friend about summer plans, she was meant to get married in Europe, and I suddenly had a desire to go to Spain.

I had no idea why, it didn’t come from my mind, it came from a deeper wisdom that I have learned to trust over the years. I don’t have any strong affinity for the country (or a dislike, I’m quite neutral to Spain) but alas, Spain.

While my life continued to crash around me as I dragged myself from funeral to funeral, barely gasping for air while I supported my clients and burnt myself to a crisp, I hit a low point in May.

Well, I already had the intuitive message I received in December when the death portal began, to wait until May. That was all I got. So I remained patient with myself and waited.

Well, I thought I would meet someone amazing, or some big amazing change would happen. I projected that upon the slightly better-than-grief experiences I had.

It wasn’t until I hit a wall, with more death and more grief, where my cortisol was so out of whack that I was up at 5am, so I decided to go on a hike. On one of those sleep-deprived hikes, I got the clear message to go walk the Camino de Santiago, so I went home and booked my flights.

Well, after a few weeks, I freaked out, thought this was an irresponsible thing to do, and tried to cancel my flight. I even had to find the death certificates of some of the deaths I had, which turned out to be challenging due to family dynamics, so I finally surrendered that clearly I was supposed to go on those dates because I was meant to meet certain people also going on those dates.

And there I was… getting lost walking through the Basque Country, jet-lagged, starving (because I thought there would be more places to get food along the way), and questioning my life choices.

But the thing about me is when I commit to doing something, I do it. Even if it requires me surrendering to the fact that I can’t get out of it anymore.

This walk started with nearly everything that could go wrong— going wrong. I realized how stressed and depressed American society was making me. I had left this culture for most of my adult life, returning to find home, and finding that I was, in fact, right all along.

I was ridden with negativity, totally out of shape due to the immense grief I had experienced, which was showing up in my reality. My feet developed horrendous tendonitis, which almost resulted in a broken foot. I lost a sentimental sarong (lol I know how this sounds but it was sentimental) in a Barcelona train station, I was struggling to find vegan food in tiny towns of Spain, and my mental health was declining as I walked 20-30km a day on bread, avocado and tomato.

As I walked, I contemplated, and I noted my process.

Most of it was regarding a man I was dating back in California, who seemed like the perfect fit except for the stark differences in emotional maturity which was negatively paralleled to our age difference.

More of it was on my grief and sadness that stuck with me like a shadow.
Grief about the deaths and losses, my work, what I wanted to do, and what I didn’t want to do.

My mind rattled with stories, sadness, frustration, and so on.

I honestly didn’t know how walking 850km was going to cure my grief, but I fuck it, I had to follow that little voice. I knew I was where I needed to be.

Amongst the thoughts rattling in my mind, and the injuries in my feet, I tried to keep up with the people I met along the way. I was not really listening to my body, because my mind knew that I was in shape and athletically I was fine, but my blisters and tendons were screaming at me to slow down.

Honestly, I was far too codependent to go off on my own, so I went along until my injuries got so bad that I had to take a bus to a nearby city to get them scanned for fractures.

I witnessed my need for belonging and connection override my ability to take care of myself. I witnessed my crankiness (a lot) in the face of snoring every night, and my shyness to speak up and ask for what I needed, such as staying an extra night in an albergue. I experienced my high sensitivity and sensory overload around the large groups, loud noises, and more when on the path…

I noticed that I was one of the only people I met who was on pilgrimage, as most people were on a trekking holiday.

I had questions about St. James, Catholicism, and what this Pilgrimage was really about, but I trekked onwards, hoping I would meet someone that could tell me.

There were a few moments when I lost the group, and it was for the best. I took a break day in Bilbao, to get a doctor to look at my injuries. I took a break in Santander, to finally break from the pack of people I was entrained with (who I constantly felt like I had to keep up with, only to feel needy, disconnected, and out of alignment— physically and emotionally).

The thing about pilgrimage is that the path shows you the way. It shows you when you are in alignment and not in alignment. It shows you how to work with intuition, your energy, and to clear your emotions until there is nothing but source energy guiding you. It only asks that you listen, and respond.

It teaches you the language of your heart and soul. It doesn't matter if it is on the Camino, through India, or in your day-to-day— but getting rid of the distractions certainly makes it easier to hear.

Thankfully, I listened, and finally responded accordingly. I stopped trying to keep up with the new friends I was making. I allowed connections to be connections and listened to the needs of my body. If I was injured, there was a good reason why.

As I said goodbye to new friends who wanted to walk a marathon in a day, my bandaged feet hobbled to the halfway point of 20km, found a place to rest, and relaxed at the beach.

Later that evening, I ran into a man I met in a train station in Santander on my break day, and who I met in a town called Santullan, a day or so after I left Bilbao. You see, whenever I trusted my intuition, listened to my body, and took rest, I was getting connected with the people I was supposed to meet, but even on rest days I took a metro to the next place to stay, so I only got glimpses.

The next morning, I was set to go on my own once again, and the man invited me to see a Mirador next to our hostel. We chatted, and I went on my way, before he rapidly caught up with me. We proceeded to walk together for over a week, a friendship that became one of the most healing relationships in my life. Months later, I am still in this relationship, nothing short of Adam Brody’s character in “Nobody Wants This,” and the magic of how healing this connection is, along with the consistent walking, the pure love and acceptance, and the consistency of another human being, witnessing me in my worst, most vulnerable moments, is nothing short of amazing.

He had to go back to Barcelona after a week, and as I confidently moved on, I found myself with the worst stomach virus of my life. Thankfully I was in Bodenaya, Asturias, with the most amazing Spanish couple who I think were actual saints, who truly lived this path and lived their dharma in service to the Camino. They took me to a doctor, fed me hospital food, and gave me a private room to puke my brains out as I cried to my mom on Facetime hoping she could fix me. The couple and I, clear on our spiritual connection, understood that my body was deeply purging. Magically, after this illness that lasted 5-7 days, my feet healed, and I walked on.

Lo magico del camino.

This week of vulnerability taught me how much I needed support, but even more so, how much support was with me—through the couple, and through the man, who never ceased to remind me how he wished he was there to help me through this as well.

As I continued on, I invited him to meet me for the end of the Camino the following weekend, and the rest is history.

I still grappled with myself, because he was a smoking, drinking, man in finance. I had been sober for nearly a decade, deep on my spiritual path, and I can’t stand cigarettes (I grew up in an ashtray). However, he was in his own process of transformation and decided to quit smoking and drinking while he processed his own life.

Sometimes it’s the people we least expect. Being on a spiritual path is about love, not mantras… and being on a pilgrimage is about self-reflection, personal responsibility, and deep faith. It’s about the courage to look within, to witness your patterns— the good, the bad, and the ugly— and make changes through intense discipline.

Overall, while walking the Camino, my grief healed. My anger subsided. My injuries healed, and it only required projectile vomiting (sorry, gross visual) for a week for my body to completely release whatever I was holding on to emotionally.

Being on pilgrimage is like being in a ceremony, but the self-flagellation of walking 20-30km a day on nothing but (in my case) bread, avocado, nuts and tomato, (with the occasional proper meal) reminded me of what I was capable of. Walking the camino is about walking alone, together. Being alone, together. You aren’t going to connect with everyone, but you might meet someone who can change your life.

Usually that person is you. Most people walking the camino are going through some emotional healing process, not really the best place to find a partner.

(okay, that was a joke, with a dash of truth, it obviously just depends on where you are in your life, because I certainly fell into the most healing relationship of my life, because the relationship I hold with myself is of the same caliber)

Interested in going on a pilgrimage but feeling nervous to go alone?

I’m taking a group on a Kala Retreat, where we will practice expressive art therapies, yogic rituals, and learn the intracicies of what it means to walk the path. You will learn to trust your intuition with expert guidance, support, and therapeutic tools along the way.

Ready to join the waitlist? Join me here

xoxo

Lexi Faith