The Dream Keeper
- Julie Quizon
- 1 day ago
- 3 min read
The Dream Keeper
The Woman Who Refused to Throw the Dreams Away
For years, I thought I had a clutter problem.
Too many ideas.
Too many projects.
Too many domains.
Too many notebooks.
Too many unfinished plans.
At least that's what it looked like from the outside.
Open a drawer and there was a business idea.
Open a folder and there was a website concept.
Open a notebook and there was a workshop.
Open a hard drive and there was music.
Open another box and there were skincare formulas.
Another shelf held wellness programs.
Another held branding ideas.
Another held dreams waiting patiently for their turn.
Sometimes I would look around and wonder:
"Why am I holding onto all of this?"
"Why can't I just pick one thing?"
"Why can't I let the rest go?"
It felt messy.
Chaotic.
Overwhelming.
Until recently.
Because during my spring cleaning, I realized something.
I never threw the dreams away.
Not once.
Even during the hardest seasons.
Even when life interrupted.
Even when I became exhausted.
Even when I lost faith in myself.
Even when the world changed.
I never abandoned them.
I stored them.
That is different.
Abandonment says:
"This no longer matters."
Storage says:
"Not yet."
And suddenly I began looking at my life differently.
Maybe I wasn't collecting clutter.
Maybe I was protecting possibilities.
Every unfinished website represented a version of myself that once felt inspired.
Every skincare formula represented curiosity.
Every music file represented healing.
Every workshop represented service.
Every notebook represented hope.
Why would I throw hope away?
Then I began thinking about all the seasons of my life.
The nursing years.
The clinic years.
The skincare years.
The fertility journey.
Motherhood.
The pandemic.
The healing years.
The learning years.
The music years.
Every season asked something different of me.
Sometimes life demanded survival.
Sometimes it demanded growth.
Sometimes it demanded rest.
Sometimes it demanded healing.
The dreams waited.
Patiently.
Without judgment.
Without deadlines.
Without resentment.
Like old friends.
Waiting for me to return.
And perhaps that is why seeing all these unfinished projects again feels emotional.
Because I realize they never stopped believing in me.
Even when I stopped believing in myself.
The dream of helping Highly Sensitive People waited.
The dream of creating wellness programs waited.
The dream of building organic skincare waited.
The dream of writing waited.
The dream of creating music waited.
The dream of building community waited.
The dream of helping women heal waited.
None of them left.
They simply sat quietly on the shelf.
Waiting.
There is something comforting about that.
Especially for someone who has experienced loss.
Because dreams can feel fragile.
You fear that if you don't move fast enough, they will disappear.
If you don't launch them now, you'll miss your chance.
If you don't act immediately, the opportunity will be gone forever.
But my life has taught me something different.
The right dreams stay.
The real dreams return.
The soul dreams wait.
And maybe that's why they feel so alive right now.
Not because they are new.
Because they survived.
They survived heartbreak.
Career changes.
Miscarriage.
Motherhood.
Pandemic years.
Burnout.
Doubt.
Fear.
Time.
And they are still here.
Waiting.
Knocking softly on the door.
Not demanding.
Not pushing.
Simply asking:
"Are you ready now?"
The funny thing is, I always thought the dreams needed me.
Now I wonder if I needed them.
Because every time life became difficult, they reminded me who I was.
A creator.
A healer.
A builder.
A dreamer.
A woman with something to share.
And perhaps that is the role of the Dream Keeper.
Not someone who stores ideas.
Someone who protects possibility.
Someone who refuses to let the light go out completely.
Someone who leaves a lantern burning, even during the darkest seasons.
Looking around my workspace today, I no longer see clutter.
I see evidence.
Evidence that I never gave up.
Evidence that hope remained.
Evidence that part of me always knew I would come back.
And maybe that is the biggest surprise of all.
After everything.
After every detour.
After every pause.
After every season of uncertainty.
I came back.
Not to who I used to be.
But to the dreams that never stopped waiting.
And now another question is beginning to emerge.
If the dreams survived all this time...
What are they asking of me now?
To be continued...
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