Just be you

"Just be you, John. That's plenty good enough."

Those are the words of my dear friend, Tom Kierulf, who called me last night from Spain. It was nearly one in the morning there when he called, and he was feeling pretty good, after a few glasses of his beloved brandy. Tom is like an older version of me, in many ways. He's a lot wiser than I am, though.

We met in early June 2011, in a small village called Uterga on the Camino de Santiago in Spain. We had stopped at the same albergue in that little village, and happened to sit at the same table for dinner. It was at the end of my first day walking the Camino, and I was dead tired. It had been kind of a rough day. I had to make a pretty significant climb nearly right off the bat, up this stretch called the Alto de Perdon (the Hill of Forgiveness) and I never could get my backpack to fit quite right and feel comfortable. It was really heavy and my right shoulder was not happy.

As we talked over dinner -- me, Tom, and a husband and wife from Germany -- I was describing my backpack troubles, and Tom advised me to cinch up the bottom strap as tight as I could get it, and then a little tighter. That takes the weight off the shoulders and puts it more onto the hips. He also told me, after he and everyone else stopped laughing, to get rid of the two-pound jar of peanut butter that I had packed. Keeping your backpack as light as possible is one of the most important things for long-distance walking, and they could not believe I brought a two-pound jar of peanut butter. Some people actually cut straps and buckles and things off their backpack to trim ounces off the overall weight. I had books in there, a journal that probably weighed a pound or two, a small pharmacy in plastic bags, too much clothing, a compressible camping pillow, assorted other stuff, and two pounds of peanut butter. Hey, I read during my research that peanut butter was hard to find over there, and came in handy for snacking. A small jar probably would have been enough, though.

The next morning, I sat at a picnic table outside the albergue, spread some peanut butter on a piece of leftover bread for breakfast, and ditched the rest. Left it sitting on the table as a donation. Hopefully, somebody put it to good use.

So that's how we met. I ran into him again at the end of the second day's walking, and by the end of the first week, we were becoming friends. Last summer, I spent four days at his home in Coruna, on the northwest coast.

Last night, Tom told me he has been reading my blog and following my efforts at self-improvement. He knows my fears and insecurities, strengths and weaknesses and such. And he tells me to lighten up. Give myself a break.

"Just be you, John. That's plenty good enough."

That's the trick, I think. Figuring out that it's OK just to be me. I am me, after all, and I can't be someone else or something that I'm not. I can try, but it doesn't work.

It's a beautiful Saturday morning, and I've finished about a four-mile walk, down the road and back again. A little lunch is in order, then off to the golf course for a little driving range practice.

Ciao, y'all ...