Getting Unstuck: Walking the Camino as a Creative Reset
By Kathleen McCleary | June 8, 2022 |
I can’t tell you how stuck I was at the beginning of May. Some of it was the pandemic—certainly we’ve all had the feeling over the last two-plus years that we’re living our lives on repeat. Some of it was my age (late-middle) and life stage (children launched, parents gone, contemplating my next steps). Some of it was my creative life; after writing three novels, I started painting then writing poetry, all while toying with writing another novel but I kept getting stuck. So last month I went to Spain and walked 110 miles of the Camino de Santiago, from the small town of A Guarda on the Portuguese border to Santiago.
Walking the Camino jolted me out of my stuck-ness and helped me reset, in ways I’m still figuring out. The things I took away from that experience apply to writing as well as to life. So if you’re feeling stuck in your current WIP or stuck in another area of your life (and those two are often related, aren’t they?), here’s what I can tell you:
Sometimes it’s good to figure things out as you go along. I did almost no preparation for this trip. I didn’t read about the Camino or study the route or research where to eat dinner or what to see. I got up every day and packed my bag and ate breakfast and walked, with no idea what might lay ahead—completely the opposite of my usual, thoroughly-prepared approach to life. And it was fantastic. From windswept paths along boulder-strewn beaches to ancient cobblestone roads to painted yellow lanes on the sides of busy asphalt roads—it was all new, and all fresh and interesting. Even if you’re a plotter, this can work well in your writing, too. Get up one day and see where your writing takes you, without a plan.
It’s OK to get lost. Yes, I got lost several times, once going a mile the wrong way along a busy road, another time taking a wrong turn in the woods. Sometimes it was hard and frustrating but sometimes getting lost led to unexpected discoveries, like the elderly man out walking his dog who wanted to lead us back to the Camino himself, or the sun-dappled grove of eucalyptus trees we would have missed if we’d stuck to the main trail. The detours you take in your writing may be lost pages, or they may lead you to exactly the place you need to get to. Time lost is not necessarily time wasted.
You know more than you think you do. I don’t speak a second language, but I did spend six months learning Spanish with the Duolingo app before I went to Spain. I didn’t expect my limited Spanish to carry me far, but it got me through checking in and out of hotels, ordering meals, and most importantly, asking for directions and understanding the answers. It certainly stretched me. If there’s something with your writing—a new POV, a different structure—you’ve been studying or contemplating, dive in and try it. Think of it as the metaphorical equivalent of speaking a language you barely know in a new country.
Have a destination. Having a goal, a point to the journey, made every step of my walk more meaningful. I met people who were walking for religious or spiritual reasons, people who were on journeys of self-discovery, people who were simply on a rollicking good vacation. But the end point—the Cathedral de Santiago de Compostela—gave us all a sense of purpose, not to mention a great feeling of accomplishment when we reached that goal. When writing all three of my novels I had to know where I’d end up even if I wasn’t always sure how to get there.
Be willing to give up your ideas of how things should be and go with how they are. This is the point of travel, after all: To get us out of our routines and ruts and into a different way of being. In Spain I ate dinner at 10 p.m. every night, drank lots of wine, consumed plenty of cappuccino, lingered over meals for hours, listened to strangers pour out their souls, shrugged over delays in planes and trains, and stayed up until ungodly hours. That’s not how I usually operate at home, and I loved it. Sometimes in writing we get so wed to how a certain character should behave or how a story should unfold that we forget that one of the primary delights of fiction is its ability to surprise, to lead us down unexpected paths or into uncharted territory.
When I got home from Spain I found a list I’d made seven years ago, of things I wanted to do. To my surprise, “Hike the Camino?” was on the list, something I’d forgotten. And this is how you get unstuck: Dig out those forgotten dreams and ideas, try them on, and see how they fit, where they may take you. When I finally stepped into the giant square in front of the Cathedral de Santiago, I turned to Anne, a young woman I met early on in my trip who’d walked with me most of the way. “We did it,” I said to her. “We walked every step.” And we both choked up. Who knew?
How do you get unstuck? What experiences have helped you move forward in your fiction?
[coffee]
Kathleen, I loved this so much! All of it. What a journey letting go of any agenda but the walking, trusting the path you’re on even if you’re lost, keeping the Cathedral in mind. I need to practice this more. Thank you. I’m a daily dog-walker; she’s getting old at 14 so the walks are shorter but these walks are good for both of us and help to loosen all that’s stiff both in body and mind.
Hi, Vijaya. It’s always so good to hear from you. I love the idea of using your daily dog walks as a mini-reset. That’s my big challenge now: Figuring out how to incorporate my Camino mind into my real, day-to-day life. Best of luck with your writing (and your beloved elder dog).
Having walked the Camino I know the gifts and lessons it can offer. It was a good reminder since I’m feeling very stuck. Thank you.
Thanks, Becky. It is a unique experience, and I understand why it draws so many people. You are not alone in feeling stuck. Hopefully, we can all muddle through this together, and learn something from each other’s experiences and insights as well as our own. I hope you get unstuck soon!
Absolutely love this post, Kathleen.
I think that a little (or a lot) of chaos will rock a person out of their regular routine, and there can be gifts in that. Because you may find an opportunity to improve that routine when things settle back down–if you really want something, that is. On a small scale, it’s why writing retreats can be magic.
Thank you for sharing your journey and its lessons with us!
Thanks, Therese! As always, I feel fortunate to have the opportunity to explore so many topics in Writer Unboxed, as a writer and reader. Yes, writing retreats are also a terrific way to jolt you out of routine, and into new ways of thinking about our stories (and our lives). XO
Kathleen, my best friend walked the Camino late last year, and it was revelatory for him in many of the same ways you suggest here. Except you have the writerly eye to see how travel’s surprises, back-tracks and (misconstrued) missteps often open up your writing thoughts, on to opening the writing itself. I’m going to Malta soon, and I know it will surprise me. Keep traveling, on the page and elsewhere.
Thanks, Tom. I don’t think I’ve ever taken a trip on which I felt so completely open to new experiences, and so unfazed by setbacks. It was a marvelous way to walk through the world, even for a short time. As I said, I’m still figuring out how my Camino walk will ripple through my work and my life, but I’m open to whatever it brings. Have a wonderful time in Malta!
Awesome, Kathleen, and fearless. Not unlike the many choices we must make about life’s path–investing so much time in a novel that maybe will never see the light, but believing it is taking me, the writer, somewhere. I love that you believed in yourself and did this! We have watched THE WAY, when Martin Sheen and his son, Emilio Estevez. Your heart fills as you join them. I don’t think this choice is in my future, but I so admire that you made the decision and followed through. Now back to writing, another choice, another journey.
Hello, Beth! This was a bold trip for me, and the first time I’ve traveled solo outside the U.S. in more than 30 years. I was nervous before I went, and emboldened by the whole experience. I saw THE WAY many years ago, too, which may be one reason the Camino was on my life list of things to do. May your writing journey be a productive one. Cheers.
Lovely post, Kathleen. I have loved all your books, so I knew I would want to hear your advice. I lived in Madrid for two years long ago, working for the US Embassy and took a trip with my parents to that amazing Catedral de Santiago. Even without walking the 110 miles (and I wish I had given all it gave you) I sensed something magical about that place, where so many have marked the end of their journeys. It is so very high up and in a part of Spain that feels like you are on the edge of the world. Thanks for the insights into getting unstuck, always welcomed here.
Oh, Annie, how wonderful to hear you loved my books, and thanks for letting me know. I so appreciate your memories and description of seeing the Catedral de Santiago. I’m sure you had many adventures of your own in Spain during your time there. And yes, getting stuck is universal (anyone who says they’ve NEVER been stuck can’t be entirely honest) so I’m always searching for ways to break the logjam when it happens to me. Good luck with your writing!
What a fantastic story–and I love your takeaways. And now you’ve bumped the Camino higher on my own list. 🙂
I love this post so much. I walked the Camino some years ago and it remains one of the holiest things I’ve ever done.
Read the title too fast and thought you wrote “Waling the Casino.” That could work, too, I suppose. Thanks for a lovely post.
What an incredible experience that must have been! I have such a fondness for Spain, having visited a couple times, and studied abroad there for a summer. There is definitely something about getting out of your own life and wearing a different one for a while. It opens you up in so many ways. Thank you for sharing your experiences!