And so it begins, well sort of. . .

I left my office knowing I would not be back for 7 weeks.  I had dinner with my wife and daughter and felt, well frankly, despondent.  What have I gotten myself into?  I mean, after all, who decides, "hey, your life needs a 500 mile walk to find purpose"?  After a very sleepless night, Ketl drops me at the Detroit airport at 11 a.m., and I embrace her for the last time until June 28. ("I'll see you in Santiago," I whisper.)  After that fond farewell, the next 20 or so hours is a combination of boredom, discomfort, bone wearying "its 2 in the morning could you quiet that baby" 2 rows back, shift in your tiny seat, pain in the butt, no sleep, can't even focus enough to read, no fun!!!!  There were no revelations of the meaning of life, death, love, sex, and the world.  If I measure this trip by depth of insight, well its not looking so good eh?  But then as we approach the Irish coast, the sun starts to rise under the cloud cover.  It looks like we are flying over lava fields.  No deep sign from God this, indeed, it happens every day this beauty, this divine show.  It's just we're not in the right place to see it.  Now because I am the peregrino walking the Camino, I see it.  I meet my friend Peter, as planned at the airport.  We're both a bit stunned by the travel.  We've found our hotel, got the european sim card installed in the phone, and taken a nap.  And so it begins, my pilgrimage.  I've seen the everyday in a new way already.  And so it begins, well sorta .  . .