KHEPRI was born from an experience that was very simple and, at the same time, deeply transformative.

During my vacations, I have a habit of walking for hours by the sea. They are moments of calm, gratitude, and silence. The sun, the water, the sand, and the constant movement of the waves create a space in which the mind stops racing and a natural openness to observe, feel, and reflect begins to appear.

As I walked, I also meditated. Many times I contemplated the Tree of Life, the sefirot, and practiced some of the meditations I had learned from my teacher. Those moments were not about finding immediate answers. They were spaces of presence, where ideas began to emerge naturally.

There is another aspect that has been part of my life for many years and is deeply connected to the birth of KHEPRI.

I have always felt a special sensitivity toward scarabs. When I find one turned over in the sand, I set it upright so it can continue on its way. If a wave carries it away, I place it again somewhere safe. It is a gesture that has come naturally to me for many years. Those who have shared those moments with me know that I always do it.

As I walked, meditated, and observed everything around me, reflections began to arise one after another.

I did not write them down.

I recorded them.

The phone became a companion on the journey. Every idea, every reflection, and every realization was recorded at the very moment it arose, without interrupting the experience I was living.

As the days passed, I understood something very simple:

This cannot be only for me.

I felt that what I was living could become a message capable of accompanying other people in their own moments of searching, reflection, and rebirth.

More than a book, I felt that a wisdom born from living was coming into being.

That was when its name appeared.

KHEPRI.

It was not a casual choice.

Long before this book existed, the scarab already held a very important place in my life. I have carried it tattooed on my arm since before I turned forty, and I have always felt a deep admiration for everything it represents: awakening, rebirth, transformation, and the constant movement of life.

At that moment I understood that I was not searching for a name for a book.

I was simply recognizing the name that had always accompanied that path.

KHEPRI was born while walking.

It was born among the sun, the sea, the sand, silence, meditation, and contemplation.

But above all, it was born from a very simple conviction:

The deepest wisdom is not always born from answers. Many times it is born from living with presence, from observing with an open heart, and from allowing life itself to reveal to us what, deep down, had always been waiting to be remembered.