Introducing 'The Scallop Shell'
Reflections on El Camino de Santiago 10 years later and the journey ahead.
Ten years ago today, I was returning home from Spain, with a study abroad group from my college, after having trekked the long and enduring pilgrimage of El Camino de Santiago de Compostela. Beginning in St. Jean Pied de Port, France on June 14, 2013, we finally reached our destination of Santiago de Compostela, Spain thirty-five days later on July 19, 2013. We then continued our journey for another three days (still by foot) to the coast of Finisterre, which comes from the latin finis terrae, meaning ‘lands’ end.’
All along our journey, scallop shells could be found on cement posts, painted on trees, or on ornate tiles walking through city streets. This shell points pilgrims on their way to the tomb of St. James in Santiago de Compostela. It’s also known to be symbolic of the many different paths we take physically and interiorly along the way. Although we are coming from many different countries, cultures, backgrounds, and experiences, we all are led to one destination.
As I try to remember coming to the end of this pilgrimage, I am reminded of how accomplished I felt. I kept a journal as I traveled The Way of St. James and here is my last sentence from my last entry on July 27, 2013:
The Camino took me through some dark and strange mental and physical twists and turns, but the sun rose every day at my back and every step I took was a step closer to loving God, loving others, and loving myself.
We spent a couple of days in Finisterre and then took a bus back to Santiago de Compostela for the annual St. James festival beginning on July 25, which is the feast day of St. James.
Returning home felt so…strange. I recall missing the immersive experience of traveling by foot alongside beautiful landscapes and historic cities and towns. Sitting in a car, watching everything zoom past me, was unsettling. I remember talking with other pilgrims and having this shared sense of how odd it felt not to be walking by everything every day, and thinking “Hey, wait a minute! I want to stop and look at (whatever it is)” and not being able to because we’re in a vehicle watching it all flash by so fast from our window.
I ended my trip with my feet incredibly swollen and with around fourteen blisters, and any normal person would conclude that riding in a car back home would be relaxing. But to me, it felt like I had been uprooted from where my soul could find peace. The mental and physical endurance it took me to finish every day on foot was a shared experience with fellow pilgrims I met along the way and the support we gave each other to keep going. The memories and wisdom I gained isn’t something that I store away for some far-off foreign country, but what I carry in my heart to this day.
My inspiration for The Scallop Shell comes from this pilgrimage I completed ten years ago. It may seem like such an extraordinary adventure in a foreign country, but what I found so enlightening and comforting was how the days unfolded in a profoundly simple and ordinary way. Waking up before the sun rose each day was practical (so we could arrive at the next town and reserve our bed for the night, before space filled up) but also enriching to start the day in the dark and quiet hours of the morning, while being greeted by the sun’s warmth an hour or two down the way.
Putting one foot in front of the other is still a reminder that echoes in my life now. While it does help to have magnificent scenery to motivate me, there are things in my life now that bring me just as much satisfaction and joy, if not more. Throughout these ten years my mindset and perspective have faltered, and I’ve fallen into ruts. However, if it’s one thing that I vividly remember about the Camino, it’s that a pilgrimage, a day, or a moment is only temporary.
God gives us so much in life to delight in and it’s my goal to slow down and reclaim simplicity in my life. And for me this looks like spending quality time with my husband and son, not compulsively using electronics, and going to adoration. There may be a mountaintop in your life that is looming ahead, a dry plateau that seems never ending, or you may be dipping your toes in the cool water, and I hope what I continue to share will inspire others to slow down and relish in the simple joys of life, no matter how big or small.
Recommended Reading:
The Way Is Made By Walking by Arthur Paul Boers
Image and Pilgrimage in Christian Culture by Victor Turner and Edith L.B. Turner