I still have the pack and boots that I took with me (or should that be "that took me") along the camino. Unsurprisingly, I grew more than a little attached to them after the thousand-odd kilometres we were together. Up hill and down dale, in all kinds of weather and across the entire length of Spain these were constant and faithful companions, and unlike me the suffered their depredations silently.
But the value of boots is in the walking, and mine are all worn out. (Thankfully the same isn't true of my large pack.) Boots that can't be walked in aren't really boots, and therefore are more of a hindrance than a help. To keep walking I need to ditch the old boots – however well the served me – and get new ones.
It's terribly unsubtle, I realise. But let me be even more obvious. If life – or some aspect of it, say spirituality – is a journey, then moving forward requires leaving behind some of the things that brought us to where we are.
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