I recently returned from the Camino de Santiago and I am so grateful for everything I experienced. I completed five stages alongside a large group of university students and instructors. I am incredibly fortunate to work at a university that understands the importance of a holistic education, always placing the individual at the center. In this endeavor, trips and experiences outside the classroom play a vital role, creating meaningful and enriching spaces for connection, among other things, through the creation and strengthening of relationships.

In an environment where we are increasingly asked for more specialization, technical expertise and greater utility; where it seems that the value of our day and, sometimes, even of ourselves, depends on the productivity of our tasks, being able to take the time to walk towards Santiago accompanied by 105 people is a true gift.

And it is, not because it has been a straight and level road. There are many kilometers walked, hills climbed, and early mornings.

Not that there haven’t been the odd blister or chafing. Plasters and Compeed (no advertising intended) have been great travel companions.

Or not because we didn’t experience terrible heat, with temperatures reaching almost 40 degrees in some stages.

It has been a true gift to be able to savor and inhabit the  “meanwhile” moments  of each stage. Those  unhurried ” during” times .

These ” in-between” moments  allow us to become aware of the path we are walking. Filled with hope for the goal and the common objective, and which, at the same time, center us in the present moment. In the now.

That ” now”  which will soon be the past and which projects us into the future, but which needs us entirely. Our attention and welcome. Our hospitality. Our permission to inhabit us.

Along this path, thanks to my friend Martín, I have pondered with great interest the expression ” being hospitable ” which he has spoken to us about with such dedication and, above all, has shown us through his example.

The word “hospitality” – which has its origin in  hospitalitas, hospitalitatis –  means “good welcome or kind treatment of the guest”.

It therefore implies a relationship between two people: a guest and a host, characterized by kindness and hospitality.

Being hospitable means making space for others within myself. Opening yourself to something or someone other than yourself. Saying, through your very being in the world and without words, “I’ll be waiting for you” or “There’s a place for you here.”

Being hospitable means experiencing life in terms of encounter, where you are the host who has to decide to open the doors of your heart to that face you meet along the way.

We are relational beings, made for relationship. We need each other. We are called to love and giving, even though the messages we often receive are about self-sufficiency and accumulation.

Accumulation of knowledge. Accumulation of experiences. Accumulation of friends, or rather, followers and likes. Accumulation of trips, to-do lists, and schedules. Accumulation even of prejudices and ideologies.

Walking these past few days, I’ve realized that sometimes I’m not very hospitable. And not for lack of purpose or sincere desire, but precisely because I’m not present in the  “meanwhile.”

For always being in a rush. For thinking that my day is better the more productive it is. For getting caught up in the cycle of doing and filling myself with noise.

How often does the desire to reach the goal distract me and activate my autopilot mode? How often does the act of doing rob me of my ability to attend to the reality before me? And how often do my materialistic mindset and prejudices anchor me to the ground, preventing me from lifting my gaze to the heavens and transcending. From marveling at the beauty of the world beyond myself. From being amazed by the kindness of those around me, or from allowing myself to be inhabited by the silence that speaks volumes.

And I realize that “ being hospitable”  means emptying yourself and allowing yourself to be inhabited. A “ letting go”  that, far from being mere passivity, always implies a movement of the heart. A  “making yourself available.”

Allow yourself to be amazed. Allow yourself to be touched. Allow yourself to be seen… because when you do, you make space for the person walking beside you. Because when you disarm yourself by removing the shield of self-sufficiency, your heart expands to accommodate the other. Because when you shed your fears and prejudices, you allow yourself to truly stand before reality and the world. Before your own eyes and the eyes of the other.

I admit I started the journey in performance mode. In fact, on the first stage I only stopped once, and it was a quick five-minute pit stop. I was in a hurry to get to Portomarín, but little by little, thanks to my wonderful adventure companions, I stopped thinking about the destination and started savoring every step. I left the rush behind, emptying myself of noise and productivity, to let myself be immersed in the landscape, the paths, the sky, the sunrise, and above all, those I was walking alongside.

And the truly wonderful news is that we decide how we live and how we exist in the world, thanks to the greatest gift we have been given: freedom. Freedom to choose our attitude toward each day. Freedom to choose how and from what perspective we view reality. Freedom to be hospitable or not. Ultimately, the freedom to open your heart or keep it closed.

Perhaps we need help. Someone to remind us, like my friend Martín in my case. And that will be a good thing because, even though the world tells us otherwise, we are vulnerable, imperfect, and in need of others.

Today, as I write this reflection, I am ready to begin anew and adopt a hospitable attitude, with the purpose of renewing my commitment each day as I walk. At every stage. At every stop. Wherever I am and wherever I go.

And before I go, dear reader, I thank you for your hospitality and for the time you have spent reading me.