I often lose my way on my Solo Journeys. Sometimes it’s been due to problems with technology while traveling. Last August when I walked the Portuguese Coastal Path of the Camino, I had problems with my apps. Two hours before I completed my 158 mile journey, I discovered that I’d failed to have my internet provider unlock my phone for my purchased internet provider in Spain. On previous journeys in the US, I’ve had problems with my car GPS — which I was late to use since I preferred the more familiar paper maps. Sometimes, I’ve blamed getting lost on my lapse in attention, my ADHD-self absorbed in a daydream and missing a turn.

This week I was scrolling through pictures and found one that I especially loved. It called me back to that Sunday last August when I was walking the Camino and got lost.

That morning I’d left the town of Ramallosa and was determined to pay close attention to my route that started by the Atlantic. It all seemed pretty simple with the trail following the coast, some of it sidewalk and other areas boardwalk.

But soon, the path stopped abruptly at a rocky area and there was no clear sign showing how to continue on the path. I walked away from the shoreline to the street looking for a scallop shell emblem of the Camino. My paper map showed a small mountain-like area that interrupted the path but had no indication of where you could return to the trail. Ahead of me, I saw people hiking toward woods, which could be a shortcut to the Camino; I followed.

A short ways up the trail, the hikers turned down a side path that didn’t appear to be headed toward the ocean. Knowing you were going north by the Atlantic had been the one sign of being on the right path since I’d stepped onto the Camino. While I wasn’t sure where I was exactly, I felt compelled to just keeping going forward up into the forest. Surely I would see my way when I got to the top of the hill. There was no one else in sight, and that was at the same time peaceful, wonderful to have that forest to myself, but also off-putting. What if I stumbled on the roots of those large trees and sprained my ankle. Who would find me? I always counted on the goodness of the ‘people in my path’ but what if there were no people?

I kept walking and praying for God to help me to find my way, again. I stopped and breathed in the fresh morning air fragranced by the aroma of pine needles heated by the sun and the evergreens that shaded me overhead. Just enjoy the moments in this beautiful place, I said to myself. When I got to the highest point I walked over to the edge and was treated to a view that was spectacular, one like I hadn’t witnessed before on the Camino.

I returned to the path through the woods and felt like I was in an enchanted forest, a fairy-tale land all to myself.

People have asked me if I was afraid, walking the Camino alone. Going through this forest and on other parts of the path with no one in sight, never made me fearful. Who was going to jump out and get me? I did have to talk myself down from anxiety that getting lost would take up too much time and I wouldn’t make it to that night’s lodging. I had realized early on my Camino journey, that while I’d gotten lost multiple times, I always ended up at the right place. Knowing that helped me to have confidence and embrace getting lost. I also realized that those extra miles of adventure had allowed me to see more of Portugal and Spain.

I recently read this quote by Erol Ozan that seems to be what I’ve found on my Solo Journeys:

“Some Beautiful Paths Can’t Be Discovered Without Getting Lost.”

I think this applies whether we’re talking about a trip or the journey of life. That day searching for the trail was one of the most memorable. I would never have witnessed that beauty of the Atlantic, the depth of the quiet forest, without losing my way on the trail.

I hope you have the good fortune of getting lost in the days ahead and finding the beautiful path meant for you.

Best to You,

Connie