Dreams

Dreams are not the kind that visit us in our sleep but rather those that appear when we’re wide awake. They surface while we’re sitting with family, chatting with friends, or quietly reflecting on life. What type of dreams are these? Are they vast like oceans, wild and towering like waves? Or are they small and tucked away, like something pushed to the back of a cupboard?

Who determines what shape our dreams take? And what does it truly take to bring those dreams to life and navigate the high tides of what we hold deep inside?

I believe that dreams are meant to be shared and discussed. A baby who has only ever seen people crawl won’t suddenly start walking unless it dares to envision that walking is even possible. That’s where dreams begin: in what we see, what we’re shown, and what we’re encouraged to believe is achievable. If we want others, especially children, siblings, or friends, to dream big, we need to show them more than what’s already been accomplished. We must help them imagine beyond the limits of the past.

As family, as peers, and as people who care, one of the most powerful things we can do is give each other the courage to dream big. To simply say, “I’ve got your back.” Sometimes, that small bit of belief is all someone needs to move forward.

That’s how the ripple effect begins. One person dares to try, and slowly, the world around them begins to shift too. When everything around us starts to grow, it often gives us the push we didn’t know we needed.

I still remember the first time I decided to cook a meal. I was nine and wanted to make potato stew. I was terrified, not because I thought I’d mess it up, but because I worried someone in my family would stop me. Maybe they’d say I was too young, or that it wasn’t safe, or that I wasn’t ready. But what happened was completely unexpected. My grandmother was there in the kitchen, doing her own thing, not saying a word, not helping, not questioning, not even acknowledging that I was doing something new. She didn’t hover, didn’t interfere, and didn’t give the kind of cautious attention most people might offer a beginner. She was just... there. Like someone who had done this a hundred times before. Like I belonged in that space too.

And that was it. That quiet presence, that calm normalcy, gave me the space and permission I didn’t even know I was searching for. That day, I made my first significant dish. She didn’t hype it up or hold me back; she simply allowed it to happen. And sometimes, that’s all we really need: a little space, a little belief.

Nothing is too big to be unachievable. Not for you. Not for me. Not for anyone.

Dreams reside in that space between courage and belief, and every step taken within that space expands the boundaries of what’s possible. So, whatever your dream is, hold onto it, nurture it, speak to it. And don’t be afraid to take that first step, no matter how small or uncertain it feels. Because every brave beginning is worth it, and every dream is waiting for you to sail its tides.

Just like others. Just like every brave beginning.