Finisterre really felt like the end of my journey. On the way up the hill to the western-most point of the continent, I noticed that there was a mass starting at the tiny chapel Igrexa de Santa Maria. It was packed with locals and pilgrims. They had a girls choir, with a young girl in the back just singing her heart out. The congregation sang along and the priest gave a hearty sermon, even though I had no idea what he was saying. I suddenly got it.
My second and last spiritual moment was in that church: the Holy Spirit is people. It's community, people together. This is the lesson that has been trying to come through to me this whole way: the solitary contemplation made the serendipitous roadside pilgrim conversation meaningful, the circumstances and activity made pilgrims open up to each other like you never would in real life, the fact that the pilgrims shared everything with each other along the way, including emotional support, a listening ear, and sometimes just singing together or sharing a meal. THIS is what the lesson is. I get it now.
NOW I feel like my journey is done.
I'm ready to stop walking.
I love you and can't wait to talk to you when I get home.
I will be spending much energy in convincing you to do at least a portion of this.
PS the order of the pictures I send you is the order in which I saw them.
Sent from my iPhone
End of the World, End of the Journey
