By Maryanna Gabriel
Southern France |
As the season here on this island starts to turn I contemplate the thought that we travel
for many reasons, sometimes it is a quest, a call of the spirit as a certain
place might beckon, whispers and images that repeatedly occur until at last
with a deep sigh we resign ourselves and connive on how to open the pocket book
to make it so. At least this is how it is for me. Try as I might, as I gnawed
away at the thought, I could not get myself to say yes to the Camino in Spain.
When I wanted to years back I could not, and here we are now and my soul just
says, but you hate crowds, you hate heat, you don’t relate to the point of the
walk, or even to St. James. Right. Having read three books of those who have,
spoken to a person who did, seen one movie and followed a blog, I had to resign
myself to the truth, this bell was not tolling for me. If I wanted to walk I
asked myself, where did I want to do it? Southern France, my soul said. Really,
I replied. Good idea. Why not? So this is what I am doing. Staying true to one’s
soul is the best way to sort through a lot.