When I catch myself complaining, I often remind myself of the day when Heavens, basically, spoke to me.

I was in Spain, walking the Camino de Santiago. 

Instead of two weeks hiking in solitude, contemplating life, I had my cheeks hurting from laughter while sharing bread, wine, stories, and the latest tips on blister treatment with fellow travelers. 

I’d normally hike 20-30km per day, entering the Zone, picking up speed, which my new friends called a “torpedo in the butt mode”.

The day before the Heavenly dialog, I used the services of a bitter-sweet volunteer guy (bitter with guys, sweet with girls), who was helping pilgrims with blisters and minor injuries.

I had pain in my foot, and he said this was tendonitis. He wrapped it extremely tightly and gave me special inserts to put in my hiking shoes.

That day began with an amazing show of rainbows, followed by episodes of drenching rain.

I was in a lot of pain, dragging myself in a “snail mode”, not being able to walk at my usual speed.

My feet felt so squeezed and the pain was becoming unbearable. 

The weight of my backpack was pressing me toward the ground.

I could feel every single pebble on the road through the thick soles of my hiking shoes. 

I told a lovely Jesuit priest walking beside me that I felt like I might be starting to understand the suffering of Christ (the cross being my backpack). 

The priest smiled. And after some time left me behind as he couldn’t bear walking that slow any longer. 

As there was no one else around, that gave me space to swear. And then sob freely. 

I looked up to the sky with tears in my eyes.

“WHY are making me suffer so much?!”

“Well, my dear…” the silent answer came, “YOU chose this as your holiday destination; YOU didn’t buy a smaller backpack when you noticed this one was too big and heavy for this trip; YOU chose and packed every single item in your backpack, YOU put the inserts the guy gave you that made less space in your shoes…” 

“Ok ok… got it!..”

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P.S. Now I find it worth checking if what I’m complaining about is due to the consequences of my own choices or not.

And in those rare instances when it’s not, I often find that the best choice is to just stop complaining about it. 🙂