Finding My Way on the Meseta
Before walking the Camino, my life was pretty good.
I was married, with two grown children. I had beautiful friends, the freedom to travel, and many things I loved. And yet, underneath it all, there was a quiet dissatisfaction that surfaced from time to time. I couldn’t quite name it, so I mostly shut it down.
The Camino de Santiago is called The Way. I’ve come to understand that it’s not about following a predefined path from A to B, but about finding your way within the Camino. It was on the Meseta—the middle section of the Camino Francés, roughly from León to Astorga—that I discovered a new way of being. A way without sacrifice. Without bargaining my freedom for external approval or appreciation. It was there that I first tasted what life and relationships could feel like when lived from a place of inner freedom.
Like me, many people arrive on the Camino feeling subtly unmoored. Jobs have ended. Roles have shifted. Identities that once felt solid no longer fit. You come because something in you needs a pause—space away from the noise, the expectations, the ways we learn to shape ourselves to fit in and belong.
I didn’t think I was searching for anything in particular, but the Meseta worked its quiet magic on me.
People call it boring because it’s flat. Many skip it, or cross it quickly by bicycle. This was not an option for me. Committed to walking as much as I could, I entered the Meseta with an open heart and mind—and discovered that once the mind quiets, unexpected beauty begins to appear.
When the landscape offers little distraction, what’s left is a vast space for deep inner listening. Mile after mile of flat terrain, I began to hear my thoughts clearly and see patterns I had long ignored. Beneath my bubbly, optimistic self was a dissatisfaction rooted in my desire to be accepted. I noticed how often I adjusted myself—my pace, my preferences, even my dreams—so others would feel comfortable. Little by little, without realizing it, I had learned to put my own longings aside in exchange for approval.
From the outside, I might have looked confident and capable. I achieved my BA as an adult after a 30 year hiatus from college, was an accomplished pilot, founded and led a not for profit foundation for a decade, and served on many philanthropic not for profit boards. But none of that reflected how I felt inside.
The Meseta stripped things back, and I had nowhere to look but inward.
The seed for change was planted just a few days into the walk. One morning, my Camino companion, Aileen, met me in the lobby of our accommodation. She had been waiting while I took my time getting ready. Looking at me directly, she named what was obvious: our ways were different. She liked to leave early. I needed more time. She walked faster. I was slower, nursing a blister.
Then she said something that landed deeply: from now on, let’s not wait for each other. Let’s follow our inner guidance.
Something in me relaxed. Our friendship didn’t require sacrifice. Giving each other freedom let us stay true to ourselves—and made our time together more honest and meaningful.
Something cracked open at that moment. A practice began—listening inward instead of outward. Following what I later came to call my inner GPS, my God Positioning System: that inner voice that, when attended to, tells you where to go and what to do.
Day by day, as I followed that guidance, the Meseta revealed itself—not as boring, but as quietly alive. Plains and gentle hills. Beautiful churches, like the one in Frómista. Ruins that moved me to the core. Conversations with fellow pilgrims that were fewer, but more meaningful. With fewer distractions, everything felt more alive.
Then came Castrojeriz.
One morning, as Aileen and I were walking out of this charming town, I felt a sudden pull to turn back. Between two buildings, I noticed a small meditation space. Something in me said, go there.
I told Aileen I was going back. She paused briefly, then continued forward. She didn’t want to come—and I didn’t adjust myself to keep us together. What once might have stirred disappointment felt natural. We were each practicing following our own rhythm.
The meditation space was a small oasis of light. I sat in silence with a few other pilgrims. When the session ended, the owner invited me to stay for tea. I felt the familiar pull to be agreeable—but my inner guidance nudged me onward, and I honored it.
Leaving this quiet oasis and walking back onto the Camino, I realized how different this felt. I wasn’t overriding myself to please. I was letting my GPS lead.
That’s when a man on a bike wearing a blue cap stopped me.
“Don’t let anyone ever take that smile away from you,” he said.
I told him he was a light.
“You’re a light,” he replied. Pointing toward a door beside a bicycle, music drifting from within, he extended me an invitation, “You’re welcome to go in.”
Inside was a small world of handmade beauty—art, photographs, handwritten quotes. Beyond it, a garden, and a laughing Jesus on the cross. I stayed for forty-five minutes, completely absorbed.
And I knew—without needing to think it through—that if I had overridden myself; if I had stayed out of politeness or habit, if I had chosen approval over listening, I would have missed this beautiful gift.
That was the gift of the Meseta.
The place where the noise falls away.
Where you learn to trust the voice within.
Where you practice following your way.
They say that later on the Camino, once the mind has been tended to, the spirit reveals itself more easily. I understand that now.
The Way, it turns out, isn’t about arriving anywhere.
It’s about learning—again and again—to listen to your inner wisdom…
and having the courage to follow.
This September, Honest Heart Journeys returns to the Meseta.
Join Aileen and other open-hearted women like Sunny for Stage II—from Burgos to Astorga—crossing the vast, luminous Meseta, where sweeping landscapes and unforgettable sunrises invite deep spiritual reflection. It’s the stretch of the Camino that surprises many… and it became Sunny’s favorite. We remember what transforms us.
Thousands of people from around the world walk the Camino each year, but no one does it quite like we do. We hope you’ll join us!
Your Support Matters
Have a friend who might be interested in a journey with us? Please feel free to share!
If a friend forwarded this to you, please Subscribe Here to join our community!