Tonight I joined with a wonderful gathering of friends and some who came up to the mountain this weekend just to play music. We listened to a porch full of musicians singing heartful, heart-breaking, funny, hilarious, inspiring, great bluegrass songs as the sun went down across the Smokey Mountains, and the waning moon rose in the opposite direction over the Blue Ridge Mountains – with us sitting in this in-between world. I met a young man who used to work for the UN who said to me, “You live here? Wow, you’re living the dream.”

In truth, it was dreams that brought me here – dreams of the night, several powerful ones, as well as the day-light dream of doing my own work, starting a retreat center in such a wildly beautiful place, and partnering what I do with this quality of environment. It is a deep privilege to live here.

Driving home, my heart expanded as I saw the homey signs you see in way-back territory like this. These roads are pretty much off the map, so there isn’t a lot of government attention to them. The signing is mostly done by locals who care. In place of the big yellow reflecting cautionary road signs we are used to, you will see such things as a stake someone put in the ground with a sock tied to it or a stack of artistically stacked rocks to catch your eye. These signs say, “Cliff on other side of these weeds. Caution!” People who live in these parts put them up.

There is magic absolutely everywhere in the world. But the magic of the mountain is special.