It’s a quiet, cold night as I write this piece, but I am wrapped in warmth to steel myself. Somehow, I find myself at peace, content and comfortable, despite all that had me stressed and overwhelmed today. So much time wasted overthinking, constantly questioning, letting anxious thoughts get the better of me, that it is a relief to be settled into a comfy bed in the silence of my bedroom, and let each thought fall away. In some ways, there is no easy way to describe it, but just the simple contented feeling of everything is good, I am well, I am blessed, and everything will be all right.

But my mind has drifted away, and I find my thoughts in Scotland, as they so often fall, and that warmth in my center grows, filling my heart and causing a smile to spread.

And this is a victory for me in feeling that everything is good, I am well and blessed, and that everything will be alright, while also thinking about Scotland and my desire to be there, my longing for home. It is a victory because I can recall many days, and many long nights, pulling her into my vision, feeling lost and empty and that the only way to fix everything was by being there.

Tonight, to be smiling and to trust that everything will be alright, while Scotland still holds her place in my mind, heart, and spirit—that is a testament to how far I have come, how much I’ve grown, and how life does change even if we do not realize it.

The first time I remember hearing the song Caledonia was on the Timberbush Day Tour of the Highlands. Iit played over the speakers as we drove by the scenery of Highlands. I had not heard a song put to words my own feelings of Scotland. I’d always assumed I’d have to do it in my own way, and I am happy I have the opportunity to do so, but there is such a comfort in knowing that others have felt that same calling and deep love for Scotland as I have, whether they are a Scot born or have had Scotland born within them.

That day I heard that song, I teared up on that bus as my spirit’s very tethers felt tugged to the words that hit my ears. I went home that night and played it on repeat, letting my sobs wreck me, with both the sadness of knowing I had not yet made Scotland my own home, but also in letting someone else serenade me with their own love of this wee, wonderful nation. In that, it was like a hand stroking my hair, providing comfort and assurance to my heartache.

But I want to pass it along to anyone else who might hear that calling to be somewhere else. Maybe it is not Scotland, but maybe it is, and maybe it will bring you some comfort to hear the words. Or maybe it’s a simply a song recommendation.


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