Boissezon- Castres 5th Aug
This morning a mountain storm seems to herald the finish of this trek. After starting through the forest, towards Castres, the storm becomes fury of lightening and thunder. It is time to stop, to retrace steps to the village and the safety of the hostel. We know that this is it for this trek, and we are content to stop here.
A summary of findings is difficult to encapsulate: this loss of time, or rather it's constraints, it's constructs has been an education in itself. Free of those things we feel most necessary in daily city lives- words, goals, egotism- we have found hidden stores of things we hope for in those very same things. We have moved freer without them-things of value in the city, which are burdens here. The loss of time's constraints has increased our awareness of things around us. 7 days feel like 4 weeks.
We have cooked great meals in empty hostels, using what was there- creativity, art! Our senses are acute, our bodies purged, our minds clear.
In Castres, we stay at the house of a most extraordinary human being. He is 87, a retired doctor, still active as head of an association aiding pregnant women in distress. In the morning I discover more. He is a survivor of the concentration camp of Dachau. A young French resistant, he was deported there at 19 years of age. His testimony astonishes me:
In the middle of such horrors, he found an inner joy that he has guarded all his life. In giving himself totally to the moment of each passing day; when he had reconciled himself to the Benevolence that we all hope for, there was no more fear.
This inner joy radiates from him. This despite losing two wives for reasons of long illnesses. He presents me with a book, which chronicles this journey.
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