Show Me The Way

Some people you meet leave an impression on you. By that I mean that you don't simply remember them or listen to them or think about them. They actually carve out a little of your flesh and bone or smooth out a rough spot or leave little indentations in your heart from where they pressed too hard. 

Sometimes you meet those people that become a rudder in the storm. They steer you toward the light and keep you from capsizing. They change your direction—suddenly your life has a different trajectory. So slight, so gentle, with the shift of a conversation or a simple word, your life can change completely.

A week ago I was walking down the Portuguese Way, one of the routes to Santiago in Spain, and a German man made a passing comment about how he hated the rain. Such a small ordinary comment, but it was a doorway moment. 

We struck up conversation which quickly snowballed into the reason why—why the Camino?

He said he had a beautiful problem. He wanted to help people.

But he also wanted to make money.

And so, the Camino. 

He chose The Way so that he could find his way. He was stuck in a place of indecision. Should he quit his job and be a psychiatrist? Or should he stay and enjoy the comforts his job currently offered him?

All of his tumbled out, as we walked along. I heard his story and shared my own. I spoke of the struggle and hardship of living your dream. But I also said, "I have purpose everyday. And so I keep on teaching."

"What is purpose?" He asks.

"A goal, vision, a reason for living." I reply.

At the next town we parted ways, and I never saw him again.

That night I thought about our conversation. Why did I even meet him? Why did we even have that conversation? What was the point? In the span of both of our lives, the words we shared are a tiny blade of grass in a vast field. 

And then I remembered the arrows. 

On the Camino, there are yellow arrows spray painted at every fork and curve in the road. They guide you to Santiago. Without even a single arrow, you would become very lost and discouraged. I realized in that moment that our conversation was a small yellow arrow in our lives. It makes all the difference, but you don't  necessarily remember it in the bigger picture. 

Then I thought about all the people who are yellow arrows to me daily. They remind me who I am. They remind me who God is. They remind me how I want to live my life. Without those people pointing the way, I lose sight of that purpose that keeps me moving forward.

I may never know if this man becomes a psychiatrist, but I do know, that day on the Camino, he was a yellow arrow to me reminding me of the path I have chosen and why I have chosen to walk it. And for that I am very thankful.