"Everyone needs 100 acres."

For Independence Day, my girlfriend and I went to my aunt and uncle's house in London, KY. For those of you who will never go there, it's a small town in the midst of beautiful foothills and rolling terrain. I'll try to post some pictures at some point.
Anyway, we were at a friends and family barbecue when I was talking to a rather interesting friend of my uncle's. Super-nice guy, Harley rider, occasional land speculator. While we were talking about life and the future (he was particularly interested in the future(s) of Rachel and me), he said "Everyone needs 100 acres." Now, at the time, I'm sure it was more the speculator talking, but I also thought that it went much deeper than that. I've spent the days since then trying to get to the bottom of what he was saying.
Now, certainly, there's not enough habitable land in the world for everyone in the world to have 100 acres. And, honestly, most people wouldn't know what to do with it. But, philosophically speaking, everyone has something in their life that represent this man's "100 acres." I love land, be it farm land, open land, wooded land, etc. I love gazing over vast tracts of land. So for me, a literal interpretation is just my idea of heaven.
But for everyone else, there must be found that "100 acres" of what is loved. 100 acres represents an investment. It also represents serenity, security, and a safe-haven. It's away from the burdens of a world traveling too fast. When you look at life, "100 acres" is everywhere.
Some people find their "100 acres" in reading. Some find it in music, poetry, visual arts, sports, or even blogging. Those of you who have already found it know what I'm talking about. Those of you who haven't, maybe it's time you started scouting out the terrain.
You can't buy "100 acres" in a shopping mall, on the internet, on the telephone, watching television, or in a bottle. In terms of open land, those places are like New York City. Fun, absolutely, but they represent none of what "100 acres" is all about. So enlighten yourself. Find something that it takes only you to enjoy. Then find yourself wrapped in it for while. Then, the next time you leave your "100 acres" for s stay in "New York City," you'll find you might just be a little more refreshed. You might even have a new perspective on things.
UPDATE: Here's a pic of the uncle's farm: