“…the sense of having walked from far inside yourself
out into the revelation, to have risked yourself
for something that seemed to stand both inside you
and far beyond you, that called you back
to the only road in the end you could follow…”
I had read the poem Santiago by David Whyte some time ago.
But it hits different to read it again right after finishing the Camino de Santiago, the pilgrimage that crosses through Europe until reaching Santiago de Compostela in Galicia.
Whether sitting in meditation for 10 hours a day, undergoing ceremonies that make you face the darkest parts of yourself, or walking 30 km through rain and wind, all heavy-duty spiritual practices share something fundamental: the tipping point.
Or as it’s often referred to, and my preferred way of looking at it, “the death before rebirth.”
Death sits at the very edge of your endurance zone.
This zone is way past your comfort zone, past that limit you thought you had before you began.
You know the difference.
Crossing the edge of your comfort zone is when you negotiate with yourself: “Come on, keep going, a bit more.”
Approaching death is when the voice inside your head keeps shouting, “I can’t, I can’t, I can’t.”
No more room to negotiate there.
You either go beyond, or you don’t.
Here’s where the magic reveals itself: that moment has nothing to do with pushing harder.
On the contrary, pushing will only trap you in death.
Going beyond requires surrender.
Letting go.
Accepting.
Embracing stillness and silence, not necessarily in your body, but primarily in your mind.
You need to go to sleep before awakening.
And then rebirth starts.
The pain disappears.
Your backpack feels lighter.
Energy flows from your belly.
Walking 5 more days? Where do I sign.
And everything shifts.
Goosebumps are no longer from fear, but from living such an unbelievable and privileged experience.
Tears are no longer from pain, but from awe at the beauty surrounding you.
Words are no longer complaints, but gratitude for the beings making this moment possible.
The horror movie your mind was projecting turns into a blank canvas.
Every stroke of insight, thought, emotion doesn’t feel new, but surprisingly familiar.
You recognise them, like a deja-vu.
Like staring at the sea takes you back to childhood days at the beach.
Like the smell of certain food reminds you of your grandparents’ home.
This is what rebirth is: not novelty, but remembrance.
Tapping into hardwired wisdom that layers of conditioning overwrote in your mind and body.
What comes in that moment feels both revelatory and obvious.
As Whyte writes, it stands both inside you and far beyond you.
Because these journeys, like the Camino is, are not linear paths.
They are spirals.
Dedicated to my soul sisters Raquel Priego and Bea Perales, walking companions with whom the Camino was simply another journey among the many we’ve shared.
This is beautiful Judit! Love it! I am very curious about how you went through that tipping point you describe. When you shift from not believing you can do it to surrendering and then reaching the other side full of awe and lightness. How is that process? Do you decide to do just what you can and keep going gently instead of pushing? Would love to hear more about this. Perhaps an idea for another post? ;)