Where does the path take us? A meditation on walking and the Way of Saint James

Abstract

Where does the path take us? – is a meditation about our stride and our way, as a metaphor of life based on The Portuguese Way of Saint James, on psychology, philosophy and literature as well as a therapy for the soul. It combines the physical with the mental, which results in the spiritualisation of the body. Keywords: the Way of Saint James; the Portuguese route of Saint James; the Way of Saint James as a metaphor; walking as therapy.

Full text

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António de Vasconcelos Nogueira
Centro de Línguas, Literaturas e Culturas. Universidade de Aveiro
Where does the path take us?
“Their story begins on ground level, with footsteps.”
Michel de Certeau, s.j., L’invention du quotidien (1990: 147)
Abstract
Where does the path take us? – is a meditation about our stride and our way, as a
metaphor of life based on The Portuguese Way of Saint James, on psychology,
philosophy and literature as well as a therapy for the soul. It combines the physical with
the mental, which results in the spiritualisation of the body.
Keywords: the Way of Saint James; the Portuguese route of Saint James; the Way of
Saint James as a metaphor; walking as therapy.
1. Introduction
It is said that “all roads lead to Rome”. We cannot help but ask ourselves: Which road?
Are they internal or external? We are not talking about a road in the geographical sense
where a step forward takes us from point A to point B but a step within ourselves. When
we search for a path leading into ourselves we are not sure we will find it. There are, in
fact, paths that we often consider as solutions and which might not even be so
(Magalhães, 2012a). And there are paths of rhetoric (Certeau, 1990).
2. The Way as a metaphor of life
We can outline the path in different ways. There are biblical ways and others, such as
transhumance, which have transformed into trails and routes. For example, there are
conquest paths, such as the Galician-Portuguese troubadours, Roldán’s, Cid’s,
Quixote’s. There are nomadic paths (Chatwin, 2008), paths of the diaspora and
expansion, of the Napoleonic, liberal, nationalist wars in the Iberian Peninsula, and
world wars. There are underground paths (Tiago, 1975), contraband paths (Carvalho,
2011), and emigration paths (Gonçalves, 1978, 1992). Paths are associated with faith
and pilgrimage, as well as those of globalization, utopia and consumption, from gyms to

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spas, from fashion to sports and leisure. Paths can be associated with writers such as
those of James Joyce (2004), and artists, like those of Vincent van Gogh and Paul
Cèzanne in Provence. Returning to the Way as a metaphor of life, according to the
Gospel of John, Jesus of Nazareth declared: “I am the Way, the Truth and the Life”
(John 14: 6). There are all kinds of views regarding the way, as a paradox for slowness
and stumbling (Pais, 2010), its direction (forwards, backwards, upwards, downwards)
and the various contexts (Hall, 1984). As in Emmaus (Luke 24: 13-35), through the
roads we are lost and found because there are several Emmaus and we did not recognize
Him, having walked with us from the beginning.
2.1. Where does the Way lead us?
The Portuguese route of the Way of Saint James, from Valença do Minho to Santiago
de Compostela, took us 5 days and 6 nights to cover a distance of 120 km on foot. We
averaged over 20 km a day, at different levels, encountering heavy rain and the Galicia
heatwave. We had logistical issues arising from inexperience and carrying excess
weight. We suffered disorientation, restlessness, physical fatigue and resilience, sleep
and wakefulness, and endured differing expectations and misunderstandings with the
arrival and departure. In fact, the Way is walked by many people with different
resources and purposes, at different paces and in different seasons. The matter is not a
question of performances, because the essential lays on the attitude of an explorer, a
traveller and a tourist. As Paul Fussell put it, despite all three categories of people make
journeys, their purpose is different: the first seeks the undiscovered, the second, what
has been already discovered and often is idealized or ruined, and the last, what is sold as
package for mass tourism consume (see: Fussell, P. (1982), Abroad: British Literary
Traveling between the Wars, as cited in Serrano, 2014). There is also the secularized
commerce, which makes us take the Way as a religious safari intertwined with
environmental tourism of postmodern times. Thomas von Kempen (2000) considered
that going on many pilgrimages does not lead us to sanctification. Before making the
Way, we idealized it based on several narratives, such as those of Paulo Coelho (2001),
Alain de Botton (2004), Haruki Murakami (2009), Gonçalo Cadilhe (2016), and of our
own condition, as did Michel de Montaigne (1998). To hike El Camino is a minor
detail, which becomes a major detail. For some it is rewarding. We are told by Don
Quixote (vol.2, part 2, chapter 25: 184) that “who reads much and travels much, sees

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much, and knows much.” Indeed, from Jerusalem to Athens arrives the rhetoric and
itinerant preaching (Steiner, 2007). According to the Gospels, Jesus of Nazareth walks
long distances. He undertakes pilgrimage during the Jewish holidays. He fasts, prays,
climbs the mountain, descends to the villages, visits the sick and is invited to the
wedding. He sits with everyone at the table to dine, breaks the bread and multiplies the
fish, gives thanks, distributes and drinks from the same chalice. He preaches in the
synagogues, in the Temple, and outdoors. He is on the banks of the Sea of Galilee and
the Jordan River. He retreats into the desert. He leads a heterogeneous group of
disciples, who vie for primacy among themselves. He loves sinners. He heals on
Saturdays, the Sabbath, and sets in motion the legions of the Empire and the multitudes
against himself and his followers. On another level, we have the city-state of Athens,
where the rhetoric and itineracy of the Sophists gives way to writing and teaching as a
profession. Aristotle teaches by walking. This is the meaning of peripatetic (gr.
ός; lat. peripateticus). What we are not expecting is that the way finds
itself in us; conquers us. To exist is to predispose oneself to being in a relationship with
the Other (Buber, 2014, Mendonça, 2013, Levinas, 1988). No path begins and ends
here, or there, as illustrated by the teachings of Zeno of Elea, a disciple of Socrates, with
its paradoxes (the stadium, Achilles and the tortoise, the flying arrow, the ranks in
motion, the space) on the inconsistency of multiplicity, divisiveness or finitude, in
defense of unity and motion (Kirk & Raven, 1982). Milan Kundera (1999: 215) has a
different understanding of what are the way and the road as well as the aesthetic sense:
A route has no meaning in itself; its meaning derives entirely from the two points that it
connects. A road is a tribute to space. Every stretch of road has meaning in itself and invites us to
stop. A route is the triumphant devaluation of space […]. Before roads and paths disappeared
from the landscape, they had disappeared from the human soul: man stopped wanting to walk, to
walk on his own feet and to enjoy it. What’s more, he no longer saw his own life as a road […].
In the world of roads and paths, beauty is continuous and constantly changing; it tells us at every
step: Stop!”
If there are material goals to overcome, there are also spiritual ones. There are those
who begin to walk the Way of Saint James without even recognizing themselves as
pilgrims, but upon arrival have been converted. The Way begins where it ends. The
Way brings us to our inner Self, making it outwardly (Calvino, 2000). There are miles.
It can be introspection, a retreat, a therapy, because arriving is not the goal. The Way is

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not only an itinerary made up of points, its interception in the geometrical plane,
respecting the axioms of Euclid of Alexandria. Therefore, the most difficult is not to
discover the right way, rather to follow it (Shapira, 2017).
2.2. What are we doing here, in this place of passage?
Somewhere on an island in the Azores, an elderly couple sit with a view of the horizon,
where the perspectives converge and are lost in vanishing points of the small oceanic
island with the infinite sky, and their lives, in the sunset. For these people, time is
confined to that moment. They notice someone who is exercising, who begins to run
and when he passes by them they notice that the person is a foreigner, equipped with
well-known sports brand, running against time, because whoever runs has no time;
whoever walks finds it. What is time? For a Christian, time is Jesus Christ and his place
in history and in our lives. Time is life itself. One says to the other: “Oh ... the boy must
be mad, poor thing. Where is he running to if the island ends there?” Perhaps by greater
force of reason John Donne (1999, 17: 103) considers that “no man is an island”. So we
run against time because “time is money”. This is mistakenly attributed to Benjamin
Franklin (1993). Fitness restores health, beauty and illusion, just like an elixir. It makes
us feel and look younger. It is like being born again, another paradox, with which
Nicodemus, the Pharisee, questions Jesus (John 3: 1-6). The pedometer shows us that
we did 10 thousand steps in x time, with a consumption of so many calories, for
statistical averages and small records and other points in the daily diet. If we ask
someone where the finishing line is, they reply: “It’s easy. It’s right there!” If we travel
by car, or the Internet, this doesn’t affect us, but ... on foot, there, can be very far. On
the Way of Saint James if a pilgrim speaks to us he, or she, invariably asks two
questions: What is your name? – First name only, no titles. Where are you from? – He,
or she, wants to know where we started walking and for how long. Everything is clear.
Not relevant. It remains for us to wish him/her a buon camino! because to walk with
another person is to be there for oneself and that other person, that is to say, available.
Praying is heading in the same direction. Another paradox. As we continue our walk, it
is not the landscape that changes. It is rather our gaze, our attitude, our being, to the
extent that “[t]he very process of our observation changes the things we observe”
(Gunaratana, 2011: 32) and “changes us” (D’Ors, 2014: 85). When we walk, we
simplify things. Time gains another value, as if it were tangible, as when we are

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diagnosed with an illness, with a set of names taken from the DSM-5 (Diagnostic and
Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders), when “[m]ental illness is a medical condition
but – it’s also an existential condition” (Lieberman, 2016: 351), with the stigmas
associated to the medical or psychiatric category. In order to find ourselves again, one
must get rid of many things (Bermejo, 2016). At this point Job’s narrative comes to
mind, because the narrative can also be therapeutic (White, 2007; Berthoud & Elderkin,
2016). Poverty acquires an unprecedented value that matches the other virtues. Alix de
Saint-André says (Compostelle, 2011: 15): “There are people who make the Way while
for others the Way makes people.” There are, therefore, paths of faith in motion
(Danièle Hervieu-Léger, 2005).
2.3. Starting the Way
We have become sedentary and complacent. For many of us it is not in our nature or
vocation. The call leads us to take the path. For a pilgrim (lat. peregrinus from per
agros: coming from afar through the fields), more than the etymological sense to make
the journey is to become nomadic, foreign to one’s condition (1Peter 2: 11), to serve
with a sense of mission and at the same time to be in touch with its values, with others
and with nature. To do the Way is to live “the mystic of the moment” (Mendonça,
2014).
2.4. The Way as therapy
Walking is physical and spiritual because it involves our whole being, hence the
importance of Juvenal’s maxim (1974: X, 356: 137): “a healthy mind in a healthy
body.” To walk is a trial and search that works to change and transform us. Walking is
per se a therapy (Compostelle, 2013: 45). There are crisis, loss, grief, divorce, problems
to deal with, metaphysical voids, somatic pains and others, phantoms, which we can call
the evils of the soul, but there are also miracles, promises, graces. To stand up and walk
aimlessly is virvoucher, a Norman archaism recovered by Honoré de Balzac (1981),
which gave rise to the flâneur, described by Charles Baudelaire (1993), to the passerby
– The Man in the Crowd – by Edgar Allan Poe (2009), and Dadaism, to Jack Kerouac’s
beatnik (2011). The difficulties of the way exercise the memory and the senses, whilst
cultivating friendship and humor. They implicate us in this task, so we are there for

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others and not only for ourselves. This alters the centre of gravity: from Self to Other; of
Self with the Other; of what is in me and defines me, for what transcends me,
transforms, blesses, relates and reacts alternately (Buber, 2014, Levinas, 1988). As
Olivier Lemire (Compostelle, 2013: 47) pointed out, if a person goes out to walk a path
and upon returning has not changed, it is because he is “arriving from holiday!” Perhaps
that is why André Breton (1988, vol. 1: 263) wrote: “Leave behind, if need be your
comfortable life and promising future. Set off on the roads.” When we start the Way, we
feel every step we take. The finishing line is not even the most important part, but the
present moment is. What we have before us is just this journey. As we walk, unlike
Zeno of Elea’s paradoxes, we are not the only ones moving, but all past generations and
those to come.
3. A Philosophy of the Way?
Walking and philosophizing are activities associated with the body and mind, framed in
the philosophical tradition, whose narratives sometimes take on the unlikely and
pathetic, transposing in miles and rolls of paper and ink that which one experiences on
the way. It tells the doxographic tradition that Thales of Miletus took a wrong step
whilst observing the sky, as to observe the solar eclipse or the reflection of light on the
Moon, he who made water the archetype, or element, principle of life, fell into a well.
That Archimedes of Syracuse, in Sicily, who ran naked from the baths to the agora
shouting eureka! having discovered the relation between the liquid volume and the
density of the immersed body, in what has come to be known as the Archimedes
principle in hydrostatics. That Empedocles of Agrigento in Sicily, whose philosophical
thought combines the elements of nature, or archetypes, with love and hatred, to explain
the change and permanence of being. He walked and climbed Mount Etna, threw
himself into the volcano and his sandal was ejected. That the itinerancy of the pre-
Socratic philosophers gave rise to that of the Sophists and of these, to the settlement of
the philosophers in the city-states, shifting the centre of their public and teaching
activities from the agora with Socrates to private spaces: the Academy with Plato, the
Lyceum with Aristotle, the Garden with Epicurus, the painted porch of the agora in
Athens, for the Stoics who gathered around Zeno of Citius, a native of Cyprus (Kirk &
Raven, 1982). If, as Father Vasco Pinto de Magalhães (2012b) argues, in order to
advance, rest is necessary, Christophe Lamoure (2007: 87) tells us that we only move

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forward when we concentrate on the essential even if at the expense of a wrong step, as
happened to Thales of Miletus and to Empedocles of Agrigento. The philosophical
discourse changes with the moderns, like Montaigne (1998), who thinks with his body,
and René Descartes (1992, 1989), who opposes body and mind as distinct substances,
whose relation is made by resorting to the method and function of the pineal gland,
which António Damásio (1998) sees as a “mistake” that centralizes the neuroscience
debate. Descartes (1988, II: 119) states that “I think, therefore I am”, and Paul Valéry
(1971: 500) retorts by admitting that “sometimes I think and sometimes I am” which
Jorge Luís Borges repeated when questioned in his wandering through the streets of
Buenos Aires, by a passer-by (Nogueira, 2012). Mindfulness or full attention teaches us
that no one is solely what he, or she, thinks (André, 2011). The cognitions that we carry
out on reality are not reality itself, they are not the truth, they are not Self; they are
cognitions (Williams & Kuyken, 2012). But it is Immanuel Kant who makes walking a
scheduled habit, independent of time and seasons, only in the discreet company of his
domestic servant Martin Lampe, an Old Prussian soldier who would carry his umbrella
with a fallen flap, which served as a visor. Kant avoided talking to people and rheum.
He was afraid of colds. He felt that philosophy should not be dealt with on the street and
kept silent during his walk. In the middle of the afternoon, he would take the
Philosopher’s Walk, heading towards the castle or Hollstein’s jetty. Kant would take
eight turns to one side and eight to the other, going up and down this path. Propped up
on his Spanish cane, it would take him half an hour, in his grey suit and three-legged
hat. In this habit of obsessive punctuality, Kant led the people of Königsberg to set their
clocks and start dinner preparations. Tradition says that on only two occasions did Kant
break his routine, causing perplexity among the bourgeois. On the first occasion, in
1762, Kant had received Rousseau’s Emile book by mail, and was absorbed in its
reading; the second, in 1789, was due to the news on the French Revolution (Nogueira,
2004). Søren Kierkgaard (1967: 84), for whom “the essence implies existence”,
assumes that his wandering through Copenhagen was made under pseudonyms
(Kierkgaard, 1986), seeking refuge in his inner Self. As for Friedrich Nietzsche, his
mountain hiking in the summer in the 1880s is witnessed in Thus spoke Zarathustra and
Ecce Homo, evocative of the walks off Lake Silvaplana, near Sils Maria and St. Moritz,
canton of the Graubünden, Swiss Alps. Finally, the escape of Walter Benjamin (1996)
during occupied France, between June and September 1940, from Paris to Portbou, in
Girona. Walking in the Catalan Pyrenees, he committed suicide, fearing to be handed

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over to the Gestapo by the Franco Guard. Benjamin found himself separated from the
escape group, who then managed to reach Lisbon and leave for the United States with
transit visas arranged by Theodor Adorno.
Final remarks
Walking and thinking are activities related to each other and to the religious,
philosophical, literary and medical tradition (therapy and rehabilitation). We walk by
choosing the step, the rhythm which associates itself to the breath as to the word and to
the ideas, adjusting it to the effort and the objective or the finish line. A slow rhythm
predisposes more to conversation, feelings and aesthetic pleasure, observing and
contemplating the landscape and the motives, through thoughts, feelings and emotions.
The benefits are evident. Walking is a cardio-respiratory exercise leading to
oxygenation and metabolism, neuro-musculoskeletal and hormonal activation, muscle
tone, strengthens the immune system and mood. Walking is an exercise in resistance
and flexibility, guidance and socializing, which breaks the sedentary routine and
removes us from closed and urban environments. Performed in a group or individually,
walking contributes towards a decrease in stress, while counteracting the tendency for
depressive states, managing weight, and improving sleep patterns. As the terrain
dimensions vary, so do the steps to be taken, climbing and descending, depending on
the terrain and the weight carried on the back or chest, difficulty and risk.
Communication is restricted to essentials. We walk in silence, because weight, fatigue,
injuries, muscular pain, feet blisters, as well as the obstacles along the way, the physical
elements, such as the atmospheric pressure, the rugged terrain, the slope, the time, the
ruminations, all this is uncomfortable and adverse. All senses are solicited, as well as
the mind through attention and perception. The biggest test consists in not being
discouraged or quitting. We walk with our whole being and we often carry the past and
the superfluous, whose weight is important to get rid of and mourn. The Way becomes a
metaphor of life and also a therapy of the soul, because it combines the physical with
the mental, resulting in the spirituality of the body (Lamour, 2007). The Way socializes
and transforms us interiorly.

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doi: 10.1192/bjp.bp.111.104745