Some lessons in life are ones we want to learn. Others come uninvited and may even be unwelcome. Hard lessons can be painful but if we learn something from them, perhaps even they do have a silver lining.
My wife and I recently went on a walking holiday in Spain along an ancient pilgrimage route called Camino de Santiago or the Way of Saint James. Named after one of Jesus’ 12 disciples, the walk can cover several routes, some of which are hundreds of kilometres long while others are just over 100 kilometres. But they all end at the town of Santiago, where Saint James’ remains are believed to be.
This was our fourth Camino, with the third one completed just before Covid-19 struck. We had caught “the Camino bug” and did three in quick succession. Embarking on the fourth was our attempt to reprise our previous good experiences.
As it turned out, it was far from being the same. Health concerns forced us to abandon the Camino after only two days. So you may call it an uncompleted mission. But was it a completely wasted experience? Did I learn anything?
One lesson I learned—and am still learning—is how to walk with my wife. In the earlier Caminos, we learnt many things, like how to navigate and to develop daily routines for our walks. I did not, however, learn to walk with her. I would usually set off with her but quickly, and oftentimes impatiently, race ahead. She would be walking calmly and slowly, enjoying the scenery and taking pictures along the way. During this Camino, however, she experienced breathing difficulties and I had to slow down and walk with her.
Her breathing challenges came off and on. There would be a day or two without symptoms and then they would come full on. There was little we could do to predict what triggered them and how to reduce them. It had a paralysing effect on us.
All this aroused feelings of impatience, frustration and guilt in me. The guilt surfaced when I found myself recalling the marital vow to support each other “in sickness and in health”. The better part of me, when I could control my reactivity, had to consciously catch and remind myself to be more patient and supportive, e.g. to slow down and walk with my wife.
But even as I tried to adapt my pace to hers, I realised that my internal pace was much more hurried. I asked myself: What was I hurrying towards and racing ahead to do? In hurrying, why was I not making space to experience that moment in time? I thought of the two sisters, Mary and Martha, and how they received Jesus (Luke 10:38-42). Was I like Martha who chose poorly and attended to the less important things? It hit me that for so much of my life, I have been hurrying about doing this-and-that and neglecting to stay “in the moment”.
But even as I tried to adapt my pace to hers, I realised that my internal pace was much more hurried. I asked myself: What was I hurrying towards and racing ahead to do? In hurrying, why was I not making space to experience that moment in time?
This realisation led me to thinking that I am probably not alone in the struggle to live life in an unhurried manner and how some of us are more at home with the busyness of life. To be left to our own devices with time on our hands can sometimes be unfamiliar and unnerving. A common scenario is when men retire or are retrenched or when women find their nest empty. While some may embrace being liberated from the daily grind of full-time employment or of caring for the family and home, others may quickly fill their now-empty calendars with one activity after another. The latter may instinctively avoid periods of quiet lest they invite self-reflection and the discomfort that might emerge from the shadows of introspection.
My wife and I did not complete our fourth Camino. Yet in a strange way, the unexpected turn took us on another journey. This journey saw us visiting various medical services in England and Spain where we encountered time and time again the compassion of strangers towards us. It became a journey requiring quick changes to set plans, something that I am unused to. It forced us to trust God even more. And with these changes came greater clarity of our priorities—was completing our walk more important than our health and peace of mind?
Every day, each of us sets off on some journey—some to work, others for studies and still others to a new career. Whether it be a long or short one, let us be mindful of the silver lining in the lessons life offers along our journey, especially when there are unexpected twists and turns.
It became a journey requiring quick changes to set plans, something that I am unused to. It forced us to trust God even more. And with these changes came greater clarity of our priorities—was completing our walk more important than our health and peace of mind?
Benny Bong has over 40 years of experience as a therapist, counsellor and trainer. He also conducts regular talks and webinars. Benny has helmed the You & Your Family column for more than 20 years and is a member of Kampong Kapor Methodist Church.
