Somerset Maugham once shared, “There are three rules for writing the novel. Unfortunately, no one knows what they are.”

Of course, he went on to create some of history’s greatest literary works. Page after page, his life’s work unfolded: writing in a language that was not first his own.

In our own way, we experience a similar
metamorphosis. With only this present moment, we forge though leaving the faintest imprint – our impression. How we see, feel and engage this world through barriers both physical and perceived. All the while, seeking the benefit of our past and future ‘home’.

Though, if only we might finally learn – that it’s only the heart which provides such refuge. We seek for that which is already there.

In peace, my sweet friends…

Namaste ❤️