The stones of the Camino don’t rush. They have watched generations of pilgrims pass by under the sun and rain, remaining there, unmoving, silent witnesses to a slower rhythm. They have no agenda or goals to achieve. They simply are. What could you learn from them in a world that demands speed from you?
In everyday life, time is measured in minutes, deadlines, and notifications that won’t wait. But there are spaces—like those moments devoted to self-care—where time slows down. It’s not about “doing” something, but about allowing. Letting the heat of the sauna soften your tensions without hurry, letting mindful touch dissolve layers of stress without forcing. There’s no rush to heal, to change, or to reach a destination. Like the stones, you can learn to be present without demanding immediate results from yourself.
Patience is not passivity: it’s a form of respect for your own process. Emotional wounds don’t close in a hurry; answers don’t arrive under pressure. Sometimes, the most revolutionary act is to stop and trust that, like the stones, you have your own pace.
The Camino isn’t walked in a day, nor is peace built in a single session. But each deep breath, each moment of stillness, is another stone in your journey. And even if you don’t notice it, each one counts.
