Letter to my younger self

Sometimes  I look at you, Luisa, and I see that sparkle in your eyes beyond time and space. Of when you were a child and acted out stories in the garden, of the day dreaming sitting on top of that tree, where you imagined yourself as a princess in a castle. The princess that needed to run away from the tower. The light of an endearing spirit sailing through day to day reality, within the depths of other worlds beyond, a certain wisdom. That sparkle that you now carry many years later to a cafe in the heart of Lisbon, or by a small table facing the Indian Ocean. In those moments imagination takes a certain direction in your life. There is always a notebook and a pen somewhere in the background even inside your head as you weave different stories out of nothing. You are a story teller and at times when there is an audience you tell tails of the different worlds you have lived in through the lenses of passers by, or people you encountered.
‘The path of common steps’ that was the title you gave to the narrative that is always brewing in your mind. I know that sometimes, in the daily routine you are subject to, you leave that path behind, that child you were, quiet, timid, running wild and free through the sketches of stories you wrote in the depths of your young desire. At times only a small light flickers in the distance. Those are the moments that you forget the imaginative world of words that nudges you as a writer.
Next time you go to the mirror look carefully into that sparkle because even in the trivial of gestures, as you decorate your eyes with eye liner or powder your cheeks with a light film of gold, the sparkle is there, waiting, glowing, and ready to awaken you into the world you left behind.