Saying Goodbye to Shoulda’s

“But we cannot simply sit and stare at our wounds forever.”

Haruki Murakami

I threw my “Coulda Woulda Shoulda” stone into the sea in Finisterre last September. I’d like to say it’s still there, but it seems to float back up to the surface frequently these days.

When I’m walking a Camino and get through an especially difficult patch, I’ll stop and turn round to see what I’ve accomplished. Sometimes, I’ll take a photo of the ridges of unforgiving rock I’ve walked on, or take a shot that gives perspective to the height I’ve brought myself up to. I don’t mull over how I should have walked faster, or could have taken a different route, or that I would never do that stage again, in that particular way. I’m always proud of myself, pleased with what I’ve done, happy to have had the experience. And then, I turn around and keep walking.

On a Camino, I have yet to turn around, wish that the view was different, wish that I was different. And yet I waste time regretting decisions, thinking about what I wish I’d done differently if I could live parts of my life over, if I could take back things said and done. The result? I miss the happiness that’s standing right in front of me because my mind is too often running back over ground I’ve already covered. I look back and want to redo what can’t be redone, look back and wish for a different view.

Note to self - take the picture, appreciate the distance covered, turn around, let it go..