I’ve been talking about the kindness on the Camino since I started this walk. It’s subtle, it’s hard to describe. It is a kind of kindness that feels different from my world at home — from what I’m used to….And it primarily comes from complete strangers.
People seem softer here….
——Someone slows their pace to walk beside you and starts a conversation.
—— Someone yells your name from behind and you turn to recognize the faces of pilgrims you met at dinner the night before.
—— Someone acknowledges their struggle to make you understand that you are not alone in your pain.
——-It’s a hearing “Buen Camino” at exactly the right moment — when your feet hurt, you are ready for the end of the day to get here, and you’re questioning why you thought walking across 2 countries sounded like a good idea. (It’ll be fun!)
No one asks what you do for a living.
No one cares about titles, accomplishments, or status.
On the Camino, kindness becomes simple again.
We are all carrying something on the Camino — backpacks (of course) — but also the weight of emotional challenges, psychological baggage, grief, questions, loneliness, exhaustion, hope for a new direction.
Maybe that’s why kindness is so important on the Camino.
Everyone understands, even without words, that the road is harder some days than others.
At home, we rush past one another and never make eye contact, let alone speak.
On the Camino, people slow down…they seem to be more aware of their surroundings and those in it.
They notice the limp.
The tiredness in your step.
The silence.
The joy.
And they, more times than not, respond with kindness in ways that leave an imprint.
The Camino reminds us that people are still good and can care about a complete stranger without asking for anything in return.
Maybe that’s one of the real reasons people return home changed.
Not because they walked hundreds of miles…
…but because, for a little while, they experienced the world the way it should be.