This Majestic Country

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 think I am getting somewhere with all of this rushing about. It is as though I have gathered together the memories of my past in this journey through the provinces of Canada where I used to live and where my ancestors dwelled. I most distinctly have had the sensation that as memories came to me, I drove away from varying campsites and towns with it all resolved somehow, leaving the residue of what was behind, with difficult lumps dissolved. In the return it is as though I am gathering. I am pulling in what I want into my life. It has been a releasing and a gathering, in the going forth and in the return, through this beautiful land.

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.