Written in the Garden of Dreams
somewhere over the rainbow
Extend your hand, keep extending it, and keep drawing others close.
This is how we’ll continue to live for a long time—
Through a labor of love,
Through a labor of light.
Do you believe in the magnitude of dreams as a palpable force capable of reigniting our hearts and keeping the engine of life humming? If you answered yes, you might be in the right corner of the internet because I truly do as well.
It’s not so different when it comes to the act itself—not like an intentional choice, but rather when dreams arrive unexpectedly during our sleeping hours. While I tend to be cautious, I remain fascinated by these moments of clarity and inspiration.
Recently, I’ve been reflecting and stumbled upon a beautiful quote by Anaïs Nin that you might be familiar with: “Dreams are necessary to life.” This sentiment mirrors my view of reading and writing; both are vital to our existence and enrich our understanding of the world. Don’t you agree?
Some nights ago, I had a dream in which I achieved something I’ve been wanting and waiting for a long time, and I woke up startled. The word ‘fate’ was mentioned by someone special who directly told me, “The day fate has reserved for this has come.”
It felt strange, almost like an evolution of similar dreams I’ve had before. Yet this one ended differently, and I could distinctly grasp the sense of relief that followed. Suddenly, I was filled with happiness, though torn between surprise and emotion. My spirit found solace in the warmth of that embrace.
Wonderful view—nature is healing and rebirthing in the beauty of this spring morning.
What intrigues me most about dreams is their subtlety. They feel deeply personal, yet they seem to tap into something universal. Even though they’re often cryptic, there’s a strange familiarity to them.
When they leave their mark, there’s always a mix of emotions—whether it’s awe, confusion, or a touch of fear—and I can’t help but wonder if they carry a deeper meaning or are just fleeting fragments of my subconscious.
Whether they’re meant to guide us or are completely random, they always leave me reflecting on the mysteries of the mind and how much there is still to explore within ourselves.
Henry David Thoreau once said, "An early-morning walk is a blessing for the whole day." This phrase captures Thoreau’s deep appreciation for nature and his belief in the restorative power of starting the day with a connection to the outdoors.
In a conversation with my friend Anna, an American who is not only a devoted believer but also a skilled farmer and gardener, we came to the conclusion that in the Bible, dreams are often portrayed as a significant means through which God communicates with individuals.
Life is an incredibly generous provider. However, we sometimes evaluate its offerings based on their appearances, potentially discarding them as unattractive, unremarkable, or even burdensome. Yet, like the dreams that guide us, these gifts require us to look beyond their surface.
If we peel away these exterior layers, we may discover vibrant beauty, crafted with love and wisdom and infused with resilience. Perhaps if we can embrace it and seize it, we will connect with the hand of a higher power that delivers it to us.
Have you ever felt a profound longing to earn someone’s respect and affection, embodying the purest and most genuine form of love? I have, a few times in my life. It’s a blessing that requires courage, shapes you deeply, and refines you in countless ways.
I have a strong affection for sunflowers, which are called “girassóis” in Portuguese. They hold a special kind of magic for me, particularly in their symbolism—the assurance that strength arises from reaching for the sunlight and the hope that beauty lies in believing in the Good that comes from God. They remind us of the Light that shines both within us and in nature itself.
For months, I’ve been attempting to knit a sunflower from scratch. I usually start the project and then send it to a charming atelier in another city, where talented women I collaborate with—who help create donations for our local nursing homes—finish it for me. Perhaps one of these days, I’ll complete it myself. Until then, I’ll cherish the little bit of magic called progress.
I’ve come to understand that every gardener is familiar with the path: after the digging and planting, and through the extended period of nurturing and growth, the harvest will inevitably come. This resonates with my thoughts on love as well; it, too, is a mystery wrapped in layers of depth and nuance. Both are made up of countless small, meaningful elements, carefully chosen and cultivated. Both require time, care, and faith to flourish.
I took some time to observe one of my favorite walking spots—a small lake in my town where touching the water and tossing stones always brings me a sense of calm.
There’s a vibrant ‘rippling effect’ shining from purposeful words and full-circle acts of love. I made some inner notes about how each effort, regardless of its size, contributes to greater change. Above all, I reflected on the idea that success is often the result of persistence rather than a singular moment of action.
Every time we share our work, we open ourselves to the beauty and risk of being truly seen. We wave to the universe and shout, “Hello, I exist; I am present.”
So, here I am, trying once more to throw not just a simple stone, but a polished one—a culmination of all the stones I’ve thrown before that taught me how to aim. In doing so, I expect it to carry the flame and hopefully come around again.
☄️⚡️🔥
Written in the Garden of Dreams
A Labor of Love
In the garden of dreams where wildflowers bloom,
Childhood whispers linger, dispelling all gloom.
Fading twilight dances where innocence sways,
Yet the weight of the world pulls at heartstrings and plays.
We twirled on the edges of laughter and light,
Oblivious to shadows that follow the fight.
Innocent wishes, like stars, soared above,
But time, like a river, would teach us of hope.
Just because we can’t perceive something right away doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist.
Maturity blossoms, not in haste but in grace,
A labor of love in this vast, crowded space.
Through heartache and joy, through struggle and strife,
We learn that our dreams are the pulse of our life.
As days melt to weeks, we gather each thread,
Weaving words and our stories, with each step we tread.
In cherished moments, both tender and raw,
Relatable humanity reveals its deep core.
This is a gentle reminder to trust in what I “know,” even when I don’t “feel” it’s true.
With every scar carried and each tear we release,
We shape our experiences, finding our peace.
Here we stand, with our memories held tight,
In the garden of dreams, embracing the light.
With smiles and pain, we welcome what’s kind,
For maturity whispers, “You’re beautifully trying.”
In the silence between breaths, we find our own way,
In the echoes of time, the hopes that won’t sway.
It emphasizes that investing time and energy to adjust my perspective can be worthwhile in the end.
Through the lens of our choices, we learn to forgive,
Embracing the lessons in how we each live.
In the book of instances, both grand and obscure,
We find strength in labor, a bond that is pure.
For every lost dream, there’s a new path to trace,
A reminder that life is a delicate space.
With goodness as our anchor and love as our guide,
We navigate the currents, with faith by our side.
It reminds me that true maturity is a continuous path of self-discovery and authenticity.
In the garden of dreams, we plant seeds of tomorrow,
Nurturing visions that banish our sorrow.
Together we flourish, our roots intertwined,
In the beauty of growth, our spirits aligned.
And in this shared journey, through darkness and light,
We discover connection, our spirits take flight.
In the garden of dreams, where we each play our part,
We bloom ever brighter, with love in our heart.
As I took in my surroundings, I realized how far I had come and yet how fragile everything still felt.
☄️⚡️🔥
I want to give all I have, to be entirely present, and to love so deeply that it feels thorough—but above all else, I want to love in a way that is unique and allows others to receive it gently, without any form of imposition.
It seems a bit strange, this act of writing and casting it into the vast unknown, hoping it will reach someone out there who will appreciate and respond. There’s a flicker of hope that, in doing so, I’ve added a glimmer of light to the world—the kind of “luz” that ignites the gaze.
We craft the words, experience the emotions, and then share them with others, hoping they’ll find meaning in them as well. Sim—nothing warms a writer’s heart more than knowing their words resonate with soft and precise intention.
And then there’s that—the lingering sense that I was able to briefly capture something usually elusive and fleeting, to make it count and refine the stone into something bigger, brighter, and more bountiful.
I remember personal experiences where there was something so intimate and ineffable in how I let my words flow onto the page, making me feel more vulnerable than ever before, but in the most comforting, paradoxical way—like each line whispered a silent promise that I didn’t need to be anything more than myself, that my words, as they were, were enough.
At times, I may have been right, and at others, I was possibly wrong. But who can really say what lies beneath the surface? Who knows where those stones actually landed, or how they were perceived, or the countless things that happened in between?
I do wonder if it’s a clear-cut point that creative work is not about seeking attention or being self-centered. For me, it feels like a heartfelt gift—the most precious one I could offer.
I took this picture a month ago on my birthday, and for some reason, it reminds me of one of my favorite songs—"Somewhere Over the Rainbow," performed by the Brazilian singer Luiza Possi. It’s such a universal song, yet it resonates with me in a unique way.
The song carries a timeless, dreamlike quality that speaks to the deepest desires of the human heart. Its lyrics paint a picture of longing and faith, with the rainbow serving as a metaphor for all that is beautiful yet unattainable in life, framing hope as both a guiding star and a bittersweet reminder of what remains just beyond reach.
The simplicity of its imagery is striking; yet, woven into that innocence is a profound recognition of life’s complexity. The rainbow is not just a symbol of splendor but also of the storms one must endure to witness it. In this way, the song subtly acknowledges that to hope is to live, but also to be vulnerable.
Its lyricism invites us to dwell in both our dreams and our disappointments, finding a delicate balance between the two—always pressing onward, believing that what lies just out of sight may someday be ours. It calls us to praise the privilege of experiencing enlightenment through challenges and victories while witnessing life’s blossoming as a miracle.
If, by happenstance, you, dear reader, like this piece, let me know by hitting the heart and sharing your thoughts in a note—allow our little magic to work today in the grand scheme of things.
Also, a heartfelt thank you to those who took the time to email me after each of my pieces—for not treating my words as merely content, as just one more letter. I felt seen and valued. I always remind myself that it’s important to savor what comes to us in the form of gifted attention.
It’s always possible!
It seems, in more ways than one, that this is a continuation of another post of mine—“From Gold, With Love”. Perhaps they both come from the same spot in my heart—a place of toil, a place of light.
Perhaps that’s why this is sent with special love, aimed at touching those who care and are willing to open their arms, stretch out, throw, and dream.
I hope that includes you—whether now or someday, even long after this was posted.
T-h-a-í-s-s-a.
you never fail to surprise with another dimension of your remarkable talent: for seeing beyond the curtains,we draw against the light
and finally the photos are such poignant and complenetary...happy spring dear girl 💫
“If we peel away these exterior layers, we may discover vibrant beauty, crafted with love and wisdom and infused with resilience. Perhaps if we can embrace it and seize it, we will connect with the hand of a higher power that delivers it to us.”
I love this thought. It has given me something to think about in a new way. This whole article is thought provoking and beautifully written. You are so talented and I thoroughly enjoy reading your work.