Yesterday there was a little flurry of amazing comments in the blog Comment area. If you have never checked that out, do. From the very beginning I always thought the comments to be an important part of this process. It seemed to me that if people didn’t respond once in a while I would just be howling into the wind of the Meseta. So, I am printing up one from Jessika (Secret Agent Jessika) and two from John (Pilgrim Farmer John John).

“Hola, Felipe! et al,

This current existence is becoming almost imperceptibly a little more Camino-like. I refer to the comforting “sameness” from day to day. I really don’t have the feeling of monotony, nor did I walking every day for 70 days in the spring of 2013. The word “comfort” really does seem to apply. In France and Spain, it was the call of the Way, starting early each day, beckoning with a new vista that I’d never seen before. A new restaurante or cafe that I’d never supped at before. Usually, the opportunity to say Bon Chemin, or Buen Camino to another Pilgrim, who, heretofore, had been a stranger that I hadn’t yet met, and who was now a Friend, a fellow Pilgrim.. And each night a new place to clean up and lie down and say a fervent Thank You God for giving this all to me, a sinner and a repentant Pilgrim.

So how can that possibly be similar to today’s life in Pandemic mode? In Europe, it was the ancient paths, where today it is the internet that now provides all those things. We can find a Mass from a different location, a different state, a different country even, every day! Different priests, bishops, even the Papa himself! We look through our electronic address book everyday and decide who we an call today that has something special going on, or has a special meaning to us, or maybe we just haven’t talked to in a long time. The Pandemic has given us that most precious of all gifts———–TIME! The recurring daily-dailies are looked forward to as well. This Blog is high on that list! My sole remaining Aunt on my dad’s side is nearing 90, and she writes a daily “letter” to as many of us family kin as have signed on to her address list. She’s usually first out of the gate, and I look eagerly for it. As she frequently states, “It’s a lot of words about not much of anything”, but it consistently reminds me of long ago days at home, and big and little family activities.

Phil’s Blog continues to amaze me with its poignant philosophy so easily presented to all of us. That slow-motion x-ray vision he applies to complicated events puts a much needed slower perspective into play. And all of us fireflies that are attracted to his glow add to the light and warmth of this priceless “Camino Connection”. Each of your personalities shows through with insightful comments, and I feel privileged to even know all of you, let alone think of you as Friends, and more importantly, Fellow Pilgrims.

Pandemically present,
Semper Fi,
PFJ”

Then Jessika had this for me:

“You know, Phil, I’m glad you talked about the ancestors. They were tough stuff and they handed down so much if we would take their learning. One of mine crossed the Oregon Trail, lost his wife and eldest son to Cholera along the way so had to isolate themselves from the rest of the wagon party, far enough just to be seen, but could not interact. I have been thinking about them a lot.”

Then back to John:

“Hi Jessica!
So many tiny threads that connect us, and we may never be aware of! The farm I grew up on in southern Iowa had deep, ancient ruts across one of the pastures that was so steep and rough that it had never been plowed up. I spent part of every youthful day walking over those hills to bring in the milk cows for evening milking. In 8th grade, we had a mandatory course called “Iowa History”. That was when I discovered that both the Oregon Trail and the Mormon Trail passed through the township we lived in, and our farm was, in fact, part of one branch of that Trail! So, depending on where your ancestors joined the trek, they may have in fact walked across our family farm on their way to the West! Buen Camino, indeed!”

Just nice stuff that we didn’t get to before.

nice stuff loves, Felipé.