Is Time the Enemy?
(Photo taken in Hospital, Dumbria - Day 44 of walking, Day 3 of the Camino Finisterre & Muxia)
Is Time the Enemy?
It’s now four weeks since my return from walking more than 1,000 kilometres across Spain via the Camino del Norte and the Camino Finisterre & Muxía. Before I left, seasoned pilgrims spoke about the “Camino Blues”, the heaviness some feel when transitioning back to everyday life. I tucked that idea away, curious to see what might unfold for me.
As many of you know, my intention for this Camino was simplicity: to step away from the noise and pace of daily life and immerse myself in the inner and outer journey of walking, alongside my partner, and surrounded by Mother Nature at her most generous. To make that easier, I created clear boundaries well before leaving: no e-SIM, limited email access, and everything important communicated in advance to clients and family. The response from everyone was extraordinary, which helped me fully commit to being present.
What surprised me was just how natural the transition into presence felt. In our everyday world, we’re often encouraged to “be present”, but rarely shown how to do that when life is full and time feels tight. Even a short walk or meditation can become another task squeezed into the day. On the Camino, though, the shackles of time simply fell away.
(A beautiful sunrise looking back over La Arena Beach, Spain (Basque Country). Day 11 of Camino del Norte).
Letting Go of the Grip of Time
On our very first day, we realised that not booking accommodation in advance created unnecessary pressure. We found ourselves walking with one eye on the clock and the other on the hope of finding a bed. Arranging a night or two ahead instantly removed that friction. Suddenly, we could slow down, linger, wander off the main trail, and choose beauty over urgency. Time softened; instead of ruling the day, it gently held it open for us to be present. You might be thinking that is a no-brainer Deb, but we initially thought we wanted to try walking our Pilgrimage by just seeing where we might finish each day. Day one showed us that wasn't going to be the approach for us.
And with Santiago de Compostela more than 800 kilometres away, the destination remained reassuringly distant. We focused only on the day we were in, and loosely on the next. What a rare gift it was to allow the journey to be the purpose, rather than the finish line.
Re-Entry at Speed
The real jolt came after completing our second Camino - Camino Finisterre and Muxia. After 48 days of walking and a symbolic celebration, we boarded a bus back to Santiago. Retracing in three hours the path that had taken us the previous seven days to walk. The speed was jarring. My senses struggled to keep up; places that had held conversations, rest stops and shared moments flashed by in seconds and didn’t seem to do them justice. I found myself grateful for the daily videos I recorded, a way to reclaim the moments that were now racing past.
It reinforced something I see so often in leadership and teamwork: when the pace is relentless (and it almost always is), it’s almost impossible to truly see, hear or feel what’s happening. Our inner game struggles to keep up with the demands of the outer game. We need something that makes us reflect and consider our experiences. To ask, what shaped our journey, the good and the bad. What did we learn and what will we do differently next time?
What I Miss Most
If I have my own version of the “Camino Blues”, it’s missing the clean simplicity of the days: wake, pack, coffee, walk, coffee, notice, maybe more coffee or a beer, arrive, eat, reflect and share the experiences of the day, sleep. And then rise to do it again, familiar in rhythm, different in experience.
Interestingly, once we finished, both of us assumed we’d want “normal clothes” again. Instead, neither of us could imagine changing out of our well-worn hiking gear. We had left clothes that reflected our ‘previous selves’ for the collection at the end of our journey, but neither of us wanted to leave our present behind, not yet. Those clothes held the story of our adventure, and we weren’t ready to let that go. Even now, on our local walks, slipping into hiking clothes feels like returning to something true and grounded. The only thing we measure is distance when we walk; time still feels unnecessary.
People say the best way to ease the Camino Blues is simply to walk again. So we are. Discovering parts of Aotearoa that are now as special to me as Spain. And yes, we’re already dreaming about our return to Santiago de Compostela for the next chapter of the journey. I’ll keep you posted.
Until then, here’s the takeaway that keeps coming back to me:
Simplicity creates space.
Space invites and enables you to hold presence.
And presence is what shapes the quality of our leadership - from the inside out.
So, how are you creating space for yourself and your team?
Now that’s something to think about.
Need some help
If reading this has stirred something in you and you’d value support to make some changes, I’m only a conversation away. Together, we can shift from busyness to clarity and reconnect with what really matters. Let's chat.
If you want to walk with me on the Camino, you can watch the video series - click on the YouTube button at the bottom of this page.