One of my favorite writers, David Benner, states that much of our lives are made up of "little deaths and little resurrections," following the pattern of Jesus.

Simply put: things end, dreams die, seasons transition, egos are bruised. And, when surrendered to, these little deaths often bring little resurrections: new life emerges, a new dream comes to life, the next season appears, humility replaces demanding ego.

I had a dream of walking part of the Camino de Santiago this September with dear friends just after turning 60 this summer. It was to be a celebration of life, of health, of friendship and faith.

That dream died when I was diagnosed with a torn meniscus in my knee. Despite attempts to continue training, efforts to do rehabilitation in the water, and the best physical therapy ever, I have had to surrender this dream. As I have let up on the training, my knee pain has slowly decreased while I await a consult with a surgeon.

Sigh ...

A little death.

Should I try to bike the route with my friends rather than walking? No. Biking causes pain, too.

Should I cancel and stay home? No. Spain is calling me ...

A little resurrection! With the help of my dear friend and travel adviser, Laura Hoy of Travel Wholehearted, I am going to Spain with my friends.

Part of the time, I will wine and dine with them and cheer them along their way.

But the bulk of my time will be spent alone in northern Spain, with a book or two, my journal, and a curious, open heart.

I get to explore the ancient city of Santiago de Compostela and watch pilgrims from all over the globe arrive to their destination after days or weeks or even months of walking. I can attend Mass at the Church of St. James, and experience the wide, beautiful spirituality of the diverse travelers from everywhere.

My new dream involves sitting at coffee shops on ancient streets and writing for hours each morning.

Wandering somewhere delightful for lunch.

Napping.

Taking myself out to dinner at amazing restaurants. First reservation already made here.

Celebrating 60 years on this swirling, blue planet I have the privilege to call home for a bit of time.

Loving my life.

Little deaths, little resurrections.

Watch for them.

  • Photo by Andrew Masters on Unsplash