Life is a Gift on South Mountain

January 6, 2011
I smell a burning fire, I think of Galen Hall. I think of mountains, I envision Galen Hall. I keep my thermostat low 'cause I can't afford a large oil bill, I get fearful of how expensive it must be to heat Galen Hall.
     What is this Galen Hall I speak of? It's really a house on Galen Hall Road, on South Mountain in Pa; one of the original buildings that was part of the infamous Galen Hall of 100 years ago, or thereabouts. South Mountain and Galen Hall were once known as places for healing and attracted the wealthy as a place for R & R before automobiles came to be. A train used to take them to Wernersville, PA and they believed the air and water had healing properties or "powers". I don't know about all that, but  I know I feel healed and healthy and grounded and hopeful and helpful when I drive up to this place, this house.
    Located on -- acres, mostly sloped, on the top of South Mountain, with an endless, breathtaking view of forever, this house speaks to me and to the healing potential it promises. The real estate agent contacted me the other day, giving me a heads up that the owners really want to sell and that they would be listing it in NY and NJ as well, shortly. And I got an email from the contractor who did an estimate for me. I forwarded the email to P & C and we are getting together Saturday to talk. (gulp)
     I was fearful for a minute, but I'm not anymore...as much :p If I've only got this life, how can I justify living it safely, not answering a calling, because I'm afraid? If God leads us to it, He'll lead us through it. There is no guarantee of  "success", only of a life fully lived. I prayed for guidance and direction (whoops thah it is) and I keep smelling fires and visualizing views, imagining hikes and delicious breakfasts and fluffy beds and amazing books. The aroma of coffee blending with the wood smoke of burning pine, and workshops and 12 step meetings and unique gifts and homemade jam and garden fresh salads and healing. The healing of families who come to visit their sick loved ones at the Caron Foundation down the block. (A drug, alcohol and codependency rehabilitation, treatment center.) I can see me running retreat weekends for all who are affected by the disease of addiction. I see people checking in, and spending weekends golfing at the course next door (yes, right next door) and antiquing nearby. Is there a difference between a dream and a vision? This feels like a vision. I just put one foot in front of the other and marvel that this possibility still exits, years after I stumbled upon this house. I will save that story for later on in this ongoing story of my journey. I guess I'll learn how to make this blog site fancy with other links etc, but for now, I'm just writing from my heart in and unedited way. My excitement is hard to contain, so I'm not going to try.