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On my final day of the Camino, I arrived alone to Fisterra, on the west coast of Galicia. Fisterra was misty the day that I arrived, though the blue sky still peeked through above the rocky cliffs that framed the horizon. My body was completely spent, but I used the last wisps of energy I had left to explore the tight and winding, hilly streets, and I ran into some of the beautiful people I had met along the trail. One of them mentioned a beach bonfire that night for the summer solstice, so after a needed nap back at my hostel, I wrapped myself in a scarf, and went toward the beaches in search of fire. The sun set quickly and I was soon wandering in the dark through tall grass that extended a long ways before my feet touched sand. By then, I was shuffling around in the pitch black until I turned a corner and saw light dancing along a rockface. I went toward the light and the lifting sound of acoustic guitars until I approached the circle of people dancing and singing. Nervously, I looked for my friends from the trail, but didn’t see them. One of the singers noticed me, though, and motioned me toward the fire. I crept forward, not sure of my place, but someone handed me a stick to stoke the fire with and patted a spot next to them. So I sat. Kids were crawling around, and I was introduced to some of those seated around the fire, some from Galicia, some seasonal workers, but all travelers. Seated with them, and hearing their stories, I saw how the Camino could continue onward, from this trail to others, and I left hours later with a tapping feeling of possibility.

The following morning included another swift departure, as my flight was the next day out of Porto, Portugal to Tours, France where I would be beginning work for writing workshops in a small town in the Pays Vallée du Loir. 

Carrying the spiritual insights from the Camino with me, I learned even more of the potential of creativity in our lives, as I lived for two weeks with women supporting one another in using the power and practice of story to shed clarity and resolve conflict, within themselves and with others. 

With another seed planted--I went back to Toulouse to gather my belongings, kiss my friends, and then catch a flight home to fit the pieces back together again. 











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