I am soul, I am me

I can dream a future into reality but those dreams, they’re sacred. I hold them close now. For so long, I used to speak my dreams out loud to the world, hoping someone would catch them and help me bring them to life. But I never really sat with them. I never truly nurtured them into becoming real.

I was always looking for that outside nod of approval, while deep down, I was quietly doubting myself. I’d tell myself stories about why my dreams hadn’t happened yet, excuses wrapped in logic, reasons that felt justified. But all they really were... was fear. Delay. Disconnection.

Dreams are meant to move us. They’re supposed to ignite that spark inside. But when that inner voice keeps whispering that you’re not enough, or that it’s too late, or too hard — you freeze. You stop mid-step. And then life, this gift, this fleeting moment, just keeps ticking.

Lately, I’ve been unlearning. Unlearning the idea that dreams are just some distant fantasy. I’ve realised they’re not separate from life. They are life. They’re like Spirit, that thing we hold onto when everything else crumbles.

But here’s the truth I wasn’t ready to admit before: most of the dreams I was chasing weren’t even mine. When I finally got quiet enough to listen, I realised I’d been carrying fragments of other people’s visions. Dreams shaped by what I saw online, what I grew up around, what I thought life should look like.

And when that noise fell away, I found peace. Not the kind you find on a mountaintop, the kind that lives deep inside, beneath all the striving. That’s where the truth sat. That’s where I finally heard my own soul speak. Clear. Steady. Unapologetically me.

Now, I don’t dream just to escape. I don’t perform my visions for the world. I hold them close, like embers. I let them be mine. I set goals that actually feel real, not borrowed. And I listen, not just in meditation, but in the mess, the rush, the washing up, the in between.

Some would call it Spirit. Others, intuition. Maybe it's just me, finally remembering who I am without the noise.

And yes, I still sit like that little girl I used to be and still am and scribble dreams in the quiet corners of my mind. But now, I let my soul co-write the story. Adjust the lines. Align it with who I am now.

I give myself time to reflect, to daydream, to feel into the deeper layers of life. And in those moments, I know: I am Spirit. I am Soul. And I am, most simply, me.

Carving a future from the soft, simple joy of just being here. Of really living.