While the colors on the walls were faded and the stone was cracked and chipped, the vibrant air was still apparent. Beneath the once-colorful-now-bleached hanging cloths, on the hard, dusty ground, he sat. The sunlight streamed in from the wooden lattice covering the top of the courtyard. It felt warm on his skin. The air was still. Nothing moved but the particles of dust floating in the afternoon warmth. At that moment, where he was did not matter. How he got there wasn’t of any importance. He knew that he could exist here, in harmony with nature, and that he could leave his old life at the door. And that was enough.