excerpt from Paulo Coelho's - Manual of the Warrior of Light. "To attain his dreams, he needs a strong will and an enormous capacity for acceptance; although he may have an objective, the path that leads to that objective is not always as helpful imagined it would be."

Enjoy this moment. This is you right now, spending time with the creative self - the one who's thinking is unlimited. I often find stories about everything, but I can't seem to express what is on my mind to the page in front of me. I see the pen resting in my hand, it has no idea what it is about to create, it just moves with the flow of the hand. Almost like a choreographed dance, the nib of the pen loops, lifts and spins creating an art of its own. Along the way, it becomes a unique collaborative effort between pen, mind and soul. Maybe I was a comet in a past life.

Sempiternal Those lives lived + yet The Question remains "Who am I?" Beyond thought Beyond reason + logic Uncomprehended beauty Shimmers Calling us home Suit after suit Our bodies turn to dust a return to home One Reality at the source of all things Relinquish the pain Witness the illusions of perspectives of good + bad of forms & labels of, dare I say, identity does it scare you to find out? "Go Within" Our ancestors sing + become Eternal Peace 🙏🪷

Who am I? Am I lost? entangled In all these story lines ensnared in the web of Samsara Dear Eternal Light, will you guide me? may I be at peace + return home to the present moment the whistling pirate bathing in the bliss on glass like oceans where heaven and earth meet and the sea and the sky merge into Oneness There he was floating beautifully sailing across the firmament dipping his feet into the infinite potentiality One by one As clouds floated by, So to did his thoughts scatter like leaves in the wind. 'Where am I going?' 'Is this all an illusion?' 'Am I even real?' Dark shadows swam beneath him + yet the boy stood fearless embracing the uncertainty of Life. Strange + mysterious creatures cast ominous sounds into the night sky where the moon and the stars hung like decorations + as the universe spun its course the boy fell into a well of his dreams where dream and reality merged + nothing is what it seems Many lives we lived many realms ventured upon + still, the question remained Who am I?