As soon as my Camino ended in Santiago de Compostela on October 20, my body collapsed; a cold came on with a vengeance — an irritating tickle in my throat, a dry and unproductive cough, a general exhaustion. My voice was raspy and disappearing fast. My health worsened over the two days in Santiago, so when I headed to Muxía by bus on Monday the 22nd, I was feeling quite miserable.
At the bus station at 8:00 a.m., I ran into Sheryl, John and Sharon, a threesome I’d encountered many times along the Camino. Theirs was a odd situation. Sharon and John were married, and Sheryl had come along with them, although she didn’t know Sharon very well. Sharon had done the Camino 4-5 times before, and had arranged Sheryl’s trip for her, booking rooms in hotels that the three of them shared; they often transported their bags ahead. Sheryl knew Sharon’s husband John when they both worked on ski patrol in the mountains of Washington State. I talked often to Sheryl, but the two of us never connected enough to share contact information.
On the bus, Sheryl and I talked to Brian, a slender handsome man with a bandana on his head, and Tyler, a young bald man wearing opaque sunglasses (at first I thought he might be blind!). Co-workers at a start-up tech company in Orlando, Florida, they had just completed one week on the Camino Portuguese. Brian was quite the talker. From Detroit originally, he had no love of Florida, and we commiserated about our mutual dislike of it. As we talked, Brian, who looked very young, revealed that he was 48, married, and had two sons, 23 and 21. His coworker Tyler, who had worked with him for two years, was shocked to discover all of this information. Tyler, a mere 27, was under the impression Brian was in his 30s; he had no idea Brian had grown children, nor that he was married! Brian said he hated his job and would love nothing better to run a café along the Camino. We talked for a long time about his belief in natural remedies to health problems, and our mutual distaste for our current government.
The bus ride was a couple of hours through gently rolling hills and small whitewashed villages, but we were mostly too busy talking to notice. We spilled out of the bus at the “Don Quijote” bus stop in Muxía, which was just a sidewalk in front of the “Don Quijote” café. A frigid blustery wind was blowing from the harbor into town, and I was anxious to get to my hotel, Habitat Cm Muxía. I had been having cramps on the bus, and that manifested itself in diarrhea as soon as I checked into my hotel. I was lucky I had made it without incident on the bus ride!
After a bit of a rest, I went to A Marina, which seemed to be the only bustling restaurant in a town that was quite deserted. There, joining Brian and Tyler, I had a lunch of croquettes with limon cerveza. As we commiserated about our adult children, Brian said his wife was not very maternal; she had put up a big calendar in their house marking off the days when each her sons had to be out of the house. Brian said they didn’t give their kids any options. They told them they had to be out of the house at 18 and go to college. Listening to him, I felt admiration for his absent wife, who had opted to go on a holiday with a girlfriend rather than do the Camino; I have never been very maternal and have been judged harshly for it over the years. What I loved was how he spoke of such fondness for her, with no judgment about this aspect of her. I have often wondered if maybe I shouldn’t have had children, although of course I love them dearly and now couldn’t do without them. I am simply not made for motherhood, but I hoped I could be. I raised my children the best I could, but I never had much of a role model in my own mother, and I can’t say I was much of a success at it. I am who I am, and I really appreciated Brian for supporting his wife being just the way she was.
Muxía is part of the Costa da Morte, the Coast of Death, named for the many shipwrecks along its rocky shore. On the way from the town to the sea, about a one mile walk, I passed the Igrexa Parroquial de Santa María and its charming cemetery. I could see windmills on a ridge across the bay, and on the point, the larger and more famous church of Santuario da Virxe da Barca, or The Virgin of the Boat, which stands on a rocky ridge above the surf. Legend has it Muxía was the landing place of the stone boat that carried the Virgin Mary when she arrived in Galicia to help Saint James convert the locals. Sadly the church was closed, but I was able to see inside through the barred door.
On the shore next to the church is the sculpture A Ferida, or The Wound, by Alberto Bañuelos. It symbolizes the damage done to the sea by the spilling of 66,000 tons of oil when the Prestige tanker broke apart off the coast on November 13, 2002. The sculpture is 11 meters high and weighs over 400 tons.
I walked up to Monte Corpiño, where I could see down to the church and the sculpture at the western point of the land, some ruins to the south, the playful sea, and the town and harbor of Muxía to the east. The cold blustery weather didn’t do much to help my cough and cold, but the scenery was good for my spirit.
In the movie The Way, the main character Tom, played by Martin Sheen, and his cobbled-together group of pilgrims walk three days to “Finisterre” after arriving at Santiago de Compostela. Except in the movie, the setting is not Finisterre but Muxía. At this spot, Tom scatters the remainder of his son’s ashes into the sea.
After I moseyed down from Monte Corpiño, I traipsed around on the famed rocks and watched the sea churning and dancing; I admired the lighthouse surrounded by lichen-covered boulders. I sat and lost myself in the antics of the sea and contemplated the end of my Camino. Well, almost the end. I’d be going to the actual Finisterre by bus the following day.
After my walk and a long bath in a coveted bathtub, I headed back to A Marina, where I enjoyed a dinner of langostines (large prawns) with salad and bread, two glasses of vino tinto, and tiramasu for dessert. I never again saw Brian, Tyler, Sheryl, Sharon or John.

Igrexa Parroquial de Santa María

Igrexa Parroquial de Santa María

cemetery at Igrexa Parroquial de Santa María

cemetery at Igrexa Parroquial de Santa María

“A Ferida” (The Wound)

Roman ruins

Muxia from Monte Corpiño

cross on Monte Corpiño

“A Ferida” and Santuario da Virxe da Barca from Monte Corpiño

view southwest from Monte Corpiño

Santuario da Virxe da Barca

inside of Santuario da Virxe da Barca

lighthouse at Muxia

lighthouse at Muxia

cross at Muxia with windmills in the background

Muxia’s harbor

Langostines with salad and bread at A Marina
*Monday, October 22, 2018*
*Steps: 10,373 (4.4 miles)*
You can find everything I’ve written so far on the Camino de Santiago here:
**********************
“ON JOURNEY” INVITATION: I invite you to write a post on your own blog about the journey itself for a recently visited specific destination. You could write about the journey you hope to take in the year ahead. If you don’t have a blog, I invite you to write in the comments.
Include the link in the comments below by Tuesday, February 19 at 1:00 p.m. EST. When I write my post in response to this challenge on Wednesday, February 20, I’ll include your links in that post.
This will be an ongoing invitation, once on the third Wednesday of each month. Feel free to jump in at any time. 🙂
I hope you’ll join in our community. I look forward to reading your posts!
I love the photos in this, Cathy! The church and sea lapping at the rocks. 🙂 🙂 You’re hard on yourself over motherhood. It comes more easily to some than others but all credit to you for loving them and doing your best. An awful lot of people don’t. I would like to have been a different kind of Mum but we are what we are. I admire your honesty.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I’m glad you like the photos, Jo. It was a much prettier place than Finisterre. I loved it. As for motherhood, I did my best with my kids, and things haven’t gone as well as I would have liked. I can only hope things will improve in the future, otherwise they will have to struggle a lot in life. It saddens me, but there are choices people make that they sometimes have to live with for a very long time. What I liked so much about Brian was how matter-of-fact and non-judgmental he was about his wife and the way she was. I know my youngest sister lives and breathes her kids, but I’m just not that kind of person. I have too many things going on in my own life to devote all my energy to my adult children. Of course when they were younger, I spent much more energy on them than I’m willing to do now. 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
Don’t be hard on yourself, Cathy. I’m sure your kids are well adapted and happy with the love you gave them.
Your bus journey sounded fun but do you feel an ache when you say goodbye to people you meet on your travels only to say farewell and never see them again. I’m like that now as I realize that some of those I’ve met over the years, more than a few times as we seem to frequent the same spots and like to meet up when we can, I will not see again due to time moving on. I doubt if I’ll get to Oz again, nor will my Oz friends make it over here, ditto some friends in Carolina. Long haul doesn’t agree with us as we age. But there is still the internet, the post, and Skype if we want. We are lucky to live in this day and age when distance is no longer a barrier to keeping friendships going.
LikeLike
Well, Mari, I’m not so sure at all about your second comment; only time will tell. Right now, I certainly can’t say it’s true.
It was strange on the Camino; there were people I REALLY connected with, and then there were others I sort of connected with (like the people on this bus), and others I didn’t connect with at all, and even sought to escape. It’s like life in microcosm. I tend to keep in touch more with people I lived with in long-term assignments (when I taught abroad, for example) than I do on short trips where I meet people only briefly or in passing. Luckily we do have social media and email and Skype to keep up with those we truly care about. 🙂
LikeLike
I amazed at what you do when you are feeling ill! If I had felt like that I would not have been pushing myself and nor would I have been eating prawns! Hopefully you didn’t have any ill effects 🙂 As Jo and Mari said, we are all different when it comes to mothering. My mother wasn’t very demonstrative and I guess I am the same, I’m not one for lots of hugging and kissing. But on the other hand I wasn’t clingy either and taught my kids to be independent at an early age. I never wanted anything other than to be a mother, but I didn’t expect to have to be a father too! Maybe having to do the love thing and the discipline thing made me somewhat harder on them. We are what we are and we all show our love in different ways. As for people you meet ‘on journey’ I have a little story (or two) for you on that subject which I shall post shortly 🙂
LikeLike
Well, Jude, I had already booked hotel rooms in these places ahead of time, so I kind of had to go to them. Mike wasn’t due to arrive until the 26th, so I had to do something till then; I couldn’t just go home and rest, although I probably would have liked to at that point. I did lay low much of the rest of the day. Prawns are one thing I can eat anytime and never feel bad. 🙂
As for mothering, I could be very demonstrative with them, and I loved them dearly (and still do of course), but I was never wrapped up in them as many mothers are, as if they were the be all and end all of my existence. I was more of a hands-off mom, giving them lots of leeway to explore and make mistakes as they did. You would think that would have prepared them to be more independent. In two cases it did, in the third, we have no idea what will become of that one.
LikeLiked by 1 person
This looks a lovely place. Like Jude, i’m amazed at what you managed to do while feeling ill. Travel relationships are strange: a couple of times we’ve met people we thought would be friends for life and then lost touch quite quickly. Other people i’m very glad I never have to see again! As for the parenthood thing, i’m always amazed at how judgemental some people can be, in my case for not having children which is apparently selfish. Everyone chooses their own path for their own reasons, and if you do your best with your choices what more can anyone ask?
LikeLike
It was beautiful at this place, Anabel. There were several lovely people I met on the Camino that I hope to always be in touch with. Others I could care less if I ever saw again. You will hear about all of them as I continue to write about my Camino.
I get so angry when anyone is judgmental about parenting choices. No one has the right to judge anyone else for their choices. I agree that the choices you make are yours to make, and it should be nobody else’s business as to why you make them! What I liked so much about Brian in this story is how lovingly he accepted, and even reveled, in the person his wife was. 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
Cathy, I am another person who was impressed with your ability to keep exploring while feeling lousy!! As far as being childless it has many benefits as does having them. Though I do wish that every parent would educate themselves on all the stages of child development which would give them an understanding of child behaviour. Says an ex kindergarten teacher 🙄
LikeLike
Thanks, Suzanne. As I mentioned to Jude, my husband wasn’t due to come to meet me in Portgual until the 26th, so I had to do something to kill the time from the 20th-26th. I took that walk in Muxia but before and after, I just rested a lot!
There are equal benefits, in my opinion, to having children or not having them. On the other hand, sometimes having them is NOT a benefit, and neither is not having them. I think you’re right, every school should teach classes on childrearing; frankly none of us really know what we’re doing, but maybe for some it comes more naturally. In the end, the kids will grow up to be who they are, despite, or because of, our good intentions and our best attempts! 🙂
LikeLike
Wow, you are incredible, Cathy! The way you just keep going, feeling unwell or not! Fascinating how we can connect with people quite intensely for a short period of time, then never see them again,.,
LikeLike
Thanks, Sue. I didn’t have much choice, but I did manage to get in some rest too, thank goodness. Yes, it is crazy that you meet people, have intense conversations with them, and then they vanish in the haze! 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
😊
LikeLiked by 1 person
[…] ~wander.essence~ | On Journey […]
LikeLike
Your photos make me want to visit there, lovely stuff, and yes when travelling and feeling off colour you make more of an effort to not let it ruin things. I road tripped Europe with a tooth abscess and ibuprofen a couple of years ago but still had a great time. I’m with you on the motherhood thing, looking back I wasn’t the mother I wanted to be, and my son has made choices that doesn’t result in happiness, nor do we have much contact now which breaks my heart, but is what it is. I did the best I could and that’s all we can do really. Love your writing skills!
LikeLike
Thank you so much for stopping by and commenting, Fraggle. Oh my gosh, I couldn’t imagine traveling with a tooth abscess; I would be going crazy! Ibuprofen rarely works on me no matter what the ailment, and especially not tooth pain. I’m glad you still managed to have a good time.
As for motherhood, I tried my best to be a good mother and I’m in the same boat as you with my children; especially my youngest who I’m afraid makes one bad decision after another. I can’t help but think it reflects poorly on me. I’m afraid we may end up in the same boat, without having much contact. It’s always strained now between us, and it’s easier just to let go and hope somehow things will work out. I agree that we do try our best but life often doesn’t happen as we would like. Thank you so much for your kind words about my writing skills. 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
Like the other folks who have left comments, most of us would have curled up in a warm bed, feeling the way you did, versus venturing out to explore the town and the coastline in the cold blustery weather. But then again, I know my EB and what you are capable of doing, even under the worst of circumstances, when you are determined to do or see something!! I have certainly experienced this with you- Iceland and China!!!!
LikeLike
Well, as soon as I did my walk to the rocky coast, I did curl up in my bed for the rest of the afternoon, until I got hungry for dinner. I would have been sad to have missed this place, one of the most beautiful on my entire trip! You have certainly experienced on-the-go vacations with me, even when we were both under the weather. 🙂
LikeLike
This post resonates with me on so many levels Cathy. I love your honesty in sharing your thoughts with us. I can fully understand about the mothering, I also am not the motherly, cooing over babies, devoting my whole life to children type of person. Like Jude I had to be mother and father for 10 years of my kids growing up. They are now in their 50’s. I do not agree with the Freudian view of mother’s being responsible for the children’s decisions and destinations when they are adults. I believe they do make their own life regardless of the early years. You say 2 of your 3 are now doing ok and 1 is struggling. To me that means you have done a very good job, the best you can and circumstances, not upbringing, may be the reason our children become what they become. Meeting people along the way, to me also, is one of the joys of travel. For a short time sharing lives and stories and becoming, in a short time, good friends that enrich the travel experience. But time passing often means loosing touch. Though the memory of those meetings live on, few remain as lifetime friends. I can possibly count a handful of acquaintances met during travel that I am still in contact with. Getting sick is terrible at any time but when travelling it is the pits. I admire your grit and determination to keep going. I like the way you are sharing the Camino with us, not just a day to day travelogue but really giving a feeling for the actual inner and outer journey. The photos are stunning and I’ve never seen prawns so big, they made my mouth water. I think you have a book developing from this pilgrimage
LikeLike
Thank you so much for your comment, Pauline. I’m glad to know of other women who didn’t coo over and coddle their children. Thank you for sharing that. I’m sure it must have been doubly difficult being both mother and father to your children. I do think you’re right that they do make their own decisions as they grow older; after all they are independent and unique individuals who are formed by many influences, of which many may have nothing to do with mothering or parenting.
I loved meeting people along the way on the Camino. Of course, some more than others. It is sad that few do remain as lifetime friends, because I would like to hang on to some of them for life!
I’m honored that you have taken the time to read about my journey. My intention at the beginning was not to write a day-by-day account, but so much happened during so many days, and I kept such a detailed journal for once, that I find I’m able to remember many things, including my emotional ups and downs, and the important conversations and revelations I had along the way. I had no intention of writing a book, as there are so many Camino accounts out there, but it may actually become one without my even intending it to be.
And thanks, those prawns were delicious! I continued to feel miserable for about a week, but I slowly got better once I was in Portugal. 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
The journal will be treasured for ever and much better to keep that every day than blogging which is so time consuming too
LikeLike
Yes, all so time consuming, but rewarding each in their own way. 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
Motherhood doesn’t come with a handbook Cathy and we’re only human. Wonderful photos, encounters and memories for you.
LikeLike
That’s for sure, Gilly. I do think some people come to it more naturally than others though. Thanks, the whole Camino was so memorable and meaningful for me. There will be lots more to come as I reflect on it. 🙂
LikeLike
I like the candid way you talk about being not very maternal and the way you have handled the conversation that has unfolded in the comment stream. It is strange to look back and wonder how life would have gone without kids. I wanted kids but wasn’t all that brilliant a mum. When I was widowed young I suddenly found I had to take on a broader role and do some fathering too. I muddled along. My kids are adults now.
I look back and think I could of/should of done a better job of mothering and been more together about the whole thing. I don’t see my sons much these days – one lives interstate and the other is going through some stuff but doesn’t like to talk about it. I am close to one daughter and get along ok with the other one. I’m not sure how much of my relationship with them now can be put down to nurture and how much is just their nature. My son who is interstate is a workaholic – is that my fault or is it his nature? Impossible to say – he was difficult kid to raise and I might have been too hard on him.
As for posting about journeys – well – I wish. I like the way you write of your travels and your traveller’s tales make me want to up and go but it’s not my agenda for the forseeable. My travels are more inner these days.
LikeLike
Thanks so much for your comments, Suzanne. I’m so impressed by women who had to overcome losing their husband and had to become both father and mother to their children. I don’t know that I could have done that. But then again, I guess we all have to do whatever is necessary to make things work.
I only now feel like I have the relationship I want with my daughter; I hope with time, it will get better with my sons. Both of them live in Denver, so far away, so it will be hard to have the relationship I’d like when they’re so distant. At this moment, I think it’s good as they need space to figure out their lives without parental influence. Thanks for sharing about your relationships and your own adult children; your sharing means a lot to me.
I think there are times when we need to incubate and take time for inner journeys. I would like to find more time for that, but for now, I’m content to physically roam. That may not always be the case, as interests to ebb and flow, don’t they?
LikeLike
Yes suddenly become a widow did make me step up and take more responsibility. I learnt a lot through the process of being a sole parent.
I agree – sometimes adult kids need time away from their parents to figure themselves out. My youngest son is certainly doing that.
Inner journeys are calling me at present but also the journey of being a more active and involved grandmother. I have a bunch of grandkids. My oldest son had a son when he was quite young. That boy was raised by his mother and his other grandmother. He lives with my son now and we have a friendly relationship but we are not at all close. My oldest daughter lived overseas for nearly 20 years and had her kids there. It wasn’t till they moved back to Oz that I got to know them but by that stage they were nearly teenagers and not really interested in having another grandmother. We get on but there is a distance there.
My youngest daughter has a teenage son I am fairly close to and two little boys from her current relationship. I moved across the state to be closer to this family last year. My youngest son is unlikely to have kids (or at least not for a good long while) – this feels like my last chance to take on an active grandmothering role – once again – I’m not a natural grandmother but I do encourage them to be creative and adventurous – much like I did my own kids.
The years before I took on this role were filled with study and getting degrees then travel.
I don’t think it’s all that healthy to micro manage our adult kids lives. For many years now I’ve thought of parenting adults are ‘parenting by consultancy’. If they need me they call or visit I find.
Great to have this chance to chat – I hope I haven’t given you to much information. 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
I’m sure you love being grandmother to your many grandkids, Suzanne. I don’t see having grandchildren on my horizon any time soon. I’m sure with your creative spirit, you do encourage all your family to be creative and adventurous! We’ve learned that we absolutely cannot manage our adult kids’ lives; we’ve come to that knowledge the hard way. I like your “parenting by consultancy” philosophy. I would like to adopt that myself.
Oh, and never worry about giving me too much information. I love this kind of sharing. That’s how we get to know each other. Thank you, Suzanne. 🙂
LikeLike
A bit of a distant grandma. The kids are scattered around the country. I find grandmothering (or at least how i do it) peaks when the kids are around 4-10 then peeters out as they grow older 🙂
Parenting by consultancy kicks in every now and then. When my adult kids want to talk something through, they ring.
LikeLike
The only time our two youngest adult children ring is when they need money, or especially in the case of one of them, when he’s going off the deep end, once again. It keeps happening again and again. I do believe once grandkids, or kids, get into their teens, they seem to be less interested in relationships with parents or grandparents. I think long-distant grand-parenting would work well for me.
LikeLike
My no.2 son and work best texting these days. No. 1 son is too busy working to think of ringing. When he’s not working he is off on adventure holidays. I hardly ever see either of them. No. 2 son is depressive.
I think ultimately the answer lies in personal development. I’ll explain what I mean on your Camino post when I’m on my computer. It’s easier to type on that.
LikeLike
I’m sorry about your No. 2 son, Suzanne. I do believe you’re right that personal development is key: therapy, AA, skill development, a decent and engaging job, friends and community. He has none of those things, as he continues to alienate everyone, quit every job he gets, not stick to anything, and refuse to get an education. He thinks his brilliance alone will enable him to succeed in life, but that hasn’t worked, not by a long shot. Especially as he’s totally controlled by his emotional imbalances.
LikeLike
That sounds like familiar territory. My son is somewhat similar but not so flamboyant – more just quietly convinced he’s right. He was stunningly rude to us all at Christmas (which was the first we’d seen of him since the last one!)
I find I have had to detach and let go. Particularly since Christmas. I text him every couple of weeks and we have a brief text chat. I know he is living in a safe place and there are people who are there for him.
It took a lot of soul searching on my behalf. Sometimes adult children just need the room to be themselves regardless of what we think they should or shouldn’t do.
The main thing from my perspective is my own health and wellbeing. Discovering how to negotiate my own aging process and exploring ways I can express myself creatively are occupying my time these days. That in itself takes me on quite a journey.
My son will do what he does, no matter what I say. Hopefully he’ll get it together one of these days. Hopefully he’ll find his way back to family one of these days.
For now he choses not to. That’s the way it is.
LikeLike
Thank you for sharing this Suzanne. I feel for you, as I am trying to negotiate my way through similar challenges. My son has similarly told all of the family he wants nothing to do with us, then after feeling remorseful comes back with apologies and good intentions, only to have them fall by the wayside in spectacular fashion. As a child, I learned the only way I could survive this kind of unpredictable behavior was to harden myself to people and situations around me, and that is the way I seem to survive today. Like you, I’m trying to live my own life to the fullest and to try to find joy in exploring my creative side: writing, learning to draw, photography, traveling and reading. And mostly, just breathing.
Yes, letting go is key. My son has to figure out his own life. The thing is that if he doesn’t figure it out, he will self-destruct for sure, as he has no skills and it seems, no ability to support himself and no support network. I refuse to allow him to harrass me, rant at me, or use me as a scapegoat for his problems. Thanks again for sharing. I’m on to happier things as we had a peaceful day yesterday; I’m hoping for the same today. One day at a time. 🙂
LikeLike
Hi Cathy, the lessons of detachment we learnt when we were young can help us now but rather than shutting us down I see the detachment we are striving for as an opening up to a greater reality In my private study today I came across the idea that Carl Jung pointed to a different function for detachment. He saw is as the ‘process of individuation’ and a way of increasing self knowledge. This fits in with the ideas I came across of aging as a spiritual journey.
Maybe that means something to you. Another thing I thought of when I read your latest comment is the piece I reblogged with you in mind. I hope this link works. It might offer you some solace – maybe something like the solace of walking the Camino. https://beinginnatureblog.wordpress.com/2019/01/23/up-to-the-angels-2/
When I was in Spain I experienced the wonderful compassionate energy of Mary at one point. Directing prayers to Mary can bring profound peace I’ve found.
Maybe your son won’t self destruct despite the evidence to the contrary. One thing I’ve learnt in life is that holding onto worries about other people sometimes makes those worries a reality. It’s hard to describe exactly what I mean here but it’s something to do with the idea that our thoughts can influence our reality .
Take care and thinking of you – Suzanne. I hope you are having a better day today.
LikeLike
Thank you so much for sharing this, Suzanne. I like the idea of offering prayers to angels and to Mary. And I know you’re right about the worries. I’ve often tried visualization with my son; when he wanted to go to Hawaii, I cut out pictures of him when he was a very happy child, and glued them onto photos of Hawaii. Things seemed to go well for a time while he was there, but then eventually spiraled. I do believe what you say, that worries often make the worry a reality. I’m trying to stay positive, and am trying my best to focus on the good things in my life, and the goodness I know is deep in his heart; I would love it if that goodness and love and brilliance that I saw in him as a child would find its way out of his self-perpetuated darkness.
LikeLike
Maybe it’s thinking less about your son and more about your inner development. He can stick his own pictures on his own vision board if he wants. What about you?
I heard the idea the other day that we can’t change the outer story until we change the story within ourselves. Look to yourself for a while and let you son do whatever he is going to do. Give the burden to God. Trust in the angels and the higher realms.
What do you want for you in 2019.. Not just the outer travels, books read etc. What do you want to achieve within – do you want inner peace, a sense of wellbeing, a more relaxed attitude? How can you achieve such goals – meditation, yoga class, reading poetry, listening to music, walking alone in nature? Only you can know what your heart craves and even what steps you can take to make those cravings a reality. Maybe make a vision board of images that represent these inner, private desires. You don’t have to share it with anyone or explain it to anyone. Make it for you. Maybe stick on pictures of happy families relating together but mostly focus on your own private, inner visions of what would bring you the most personal joy at this time of your life. This sounds selfish but how can you be there for others when you need also to nurture yourself.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I don’t believe self-care is selfish, and I do many of these things daily. Thanks, Suzanne. xx
LikeLiked by 1 person
You are well placed then to overcome your present difficulties – All the best – Suzanne
LikeLiked by 1 person