I was forced to reconsider my previous decision. Should I risk everything I had built up over the past 15 years to purchase a large piece of land in the middle of an enchantingly beautiful but foreboding desert, because of the power of the entreaties of a pure soul? All of my closest colleagues and students tried to dissuade me. In the following months, I visited the land several more times, always with the nagging and momentous question of, “Should I, or should I not?”
Then one day, I read in the local newspaper that the land of the late Lester Levenson would be put up for public auction to pay off the legal fees that had accrued as a result of the long legal conflict among his students over ownership of the land. Now, I was out of time. I had to buy the land or let it go forever. I decided to visit one last time before making a final decision.
As was the case with each previous visit, I was overwhelmed by the surrounding scenery and powerful energy of the land, while saddened by the gradual state of disrepair and neglect of the retreat center. As I once again walked up to Lester Levenson’s gravesite, the tall unkempt sea of wild grass greeted me with an undulating sway. A fierce wind blew, kicking the red dry dirt up in a swirl, almost as if the land itself was crying out for love and hope of a new incarnation. I stopped as I felt the heart of the land beating its own sadness. Suddenly a powerful tremor rumbled underneath my feet, accompanied by an inner voice that cried out resoundingly, “Will you truly forsake me?”
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