By Maryanna Gabriel
“Rambling rose, rambling rose,
Why you ramble, no one knows,
Who will love you, with a love true,
When your rambling, days are done…”
Song by Noel and Joe Sherman
|Someone To Watch Over Me|
I have been listening to Clarissa Pinkola Estes, PhD, and in her Mother Night audible discourse she likens the generational wound that we all carry, to a patchwork quilt. Some squares are very beautiful, others are old and need mending, and some, one simply turns over, with threads of repair pulling it all together. I have stitched the quilt of my life together in the mosaic of this majestic country, repaired a lot of squares, turned a few over, and I am prepared to rest content beneath its beauty. Such has been this journey.