I get giddy when the day allows for a majestic view of all the humps and I can witness the haze from the Blue Ridge Mountains.  I also find it exuberant to find another hiker admiring the same spots.  In silence we stand, on a common ground of immateriality, separated by the grandness of this land. There are others that join me in this search for authenticity and self-exploration.  We are all stepping behind Clark and Lewis hoping to find the next place that’s virgin to the outside world.  We want to experience the world from a bird-eye view while sitting on top of a boulder, or standing on the edge of a cliff. Before I moved here I don’t remember what inspired me to breathe in my own space.  But now, what I do know is that I am no longer afraid of heights when before I was constantly paralyzed with fear and anxiety.  The fresh mountain air hypnotizes me in a way that I have no explanation.  The “aha” moments are so many that the cares and stress slip away in seconds.  I think each hike truly touches a part of me that compassion alone can’t reach.  My humanity finds clarity and I feel as if we are all one thread tying us together under God’s quilt.

2/21/11

And, if you want to follow them along their motorcylcle riding adventures through Virginia, North Carolina and beyond.

This is nothing like the city. The crickets are louder at night. The bull frogs are prominently more croaky and seem to have throat stamina that lasts for hours. The sound of birds in the morning light awakes me to the best alarm clock in my life. We are not in the city anymore. There is nothing that hurries the prayers in the morning, or the gratitude of the day right before sleep arrives. I am completely aware that I was born to live, submerged in these woods.

We get asked why we came here? How we made it to this small town called Gerton that barely makes it into an atlas or Mapquest? Nothing is by chance. It was waiting, calling us for the past year, awaiting our arrival with open branches. Even before we made it to the five acres, the drive up the mountains was spectacularly breath taking. The smell of spring delightfully perfumed the inside of the car with enticing diffusion. We both took deep breaths and exhaled to Mother Nature as she welcomed us. The greeting was more like “what’s taken you so long?” rather than “welcome, hope you enjoy your stay.” This is what happens when one allows God to clearly hear the yearning inside. There is no fork on the road, no detours along the way, only a straight line from a dream to a reality.

It might sound like some corny cliché when I say that it’s greener on this side. It is true. The kids catch themselves with the exclamations of how green everything is. I smile when we walk through the woods, along the creeks. I enjoy the wonder of my own childlike discoveries developing and jumping with laughter. This is the first time in my life I am able to play without reservations. The little adult in me is accepting that she can slide down a waterfall without needed permission. I can walk outside while being guided by the full moon and listen closely to my heart rhythmically balancing to nature. I realize it is God’s hand on me assuring that I am awake. This is not some vision of dreamland that I will lose once morning arrives. I am finally home.

And so as I lay here listening to the christening of nature on the land, I am reminded of why we called this place Peaceful Quest Retreats. The peace and serenity is free when you arrive. The quest is the getting here to find it. Once you leave, we hope that you can take the feeling of being one with nature, with God, and with your dreams.