And I’m preparing to walk the Portuguese Camino—from Porto along the coastal route, joining the central path at Tui, and continuing to Santiago de Compostela.

I’ve spent much of my life in structured, results-driven environments. That’s how I’m wired. But the Camino asks for something different—less control, more presence. It simply asks that you show up and keep walking.

Like most meaningful things, this journey began as an idea, followed by a long period of waiting and reflection. It’s easy to stay where things are comfortable. For me, that often meant staying home with my two little dogs instead of preparing. But eventually, something shifted. The thinking gave way to doing.

Looking back, I think this path has always been part of me. I’ve long felt drawn to movement, new places, and the unknown—a quiet pull toward experiences like this.

I’ll be walking with Rick and Pat, who have been part of my life for nearly 60 years. Not family by definition, but family in every way that matters. Sharing this with them makes the journey even more meaningful.

At this stage in life, I’m less focused on having answers and more willing to trust the process. The Camino feels like the right place for that.

This blog isn’t a guidebook—it’s a record of the experience as it unfolds: the preparation, the missteps, the lessons, and whatever the Camino reveals along the way.

If you’re reading this, you’re already part of the journey. I’m glad you’re here.