Never Lose Your Brightness

I spend a lot of time dreaming. Crafting who I want to be, the joy I want to experience, the boundaries I want to break.
The rest of the time, I do the living—the creating, experiencing, and unveiling.

The other week, I told my mentor I was having a hard time facing the dream of Barcelona ending. She said to combat one dream dissolving by imagining the next one. That in the moments you assume the magic is running out, those are the most important to uncover more.

Since that conversation, I’ve been in relationship with the idea of dreaming. And the message that keeps coming through is this: maybe life is the dream after all.

As beautiful as that may sound, it’s incredibly hard to rationalize.
In a world that operates on what feels like a mass agreement to avoid challenging the unfathomable, it feels… well, impossible.
But maybe that’s the point.
If this whole existence is just me living out a dream, then it’s also on me to dream in a state that welcomes removing limits.

Which brings me to the absolute wonder of last night—with no one but La Ballerine.
She’s done it again.

The dream began upon meeting up with her. In our usual “divine timing” (which tends to run fashionably late), we arrived at the hotel at the exact same moment—without coordinating. At least, not consciously. We greeted each other with a classic “Why wouldn’t this happen?” and walked inside to meet our new friends on the rooftop—the ones we met last week on another rooftop, bonded by the discovery that they’d worn the same outfits as us.

Our connection with them was just as vibrant as before. Conversation flowed effortlessly. We thanked fate for the chance encounter. We even recounted how, the night we met, we had been talking about removing invisible barriers between people… and they walked right over.
They told us the only reason they hesitated was because they thought La Ballerine and I were speaking another language.
We will never shut up about that detail.

Eventually, the girls headed off to dinner, and La Ballerine and I took to the city like we always do: random navigation.
After deciding on our first derecha, we walked no more than two feet before landing in front of a street performance.

We stopped in our tracks.

A voiceover began—speaking about the power of living life purely to spread love. About creating as a way to bring joy. About how purely chasing money dims our light.
Then the performance began. It was otherworldly. These humans moved like gravity had let them go. They flipped over three audience members at once .

We were so stunned, we stood there for ten full minutes afterward, just trying to absorb it all.

Eventually, our legs started moving again, our souls shouting out random directions before our minds could catch up.
We turned a corner and stumbled across a violinist playing the most heavenly sounds. We laughed uncontrollably as La Ballerine’s Bumble date lookalike ran past—perfectly timed to the music.

Then, something else happened. Something harder to explain.

We turned down a tiny street marked by a green moto and a glowing sign that read: LIVE MUSIC.
My favorite sight in the world.
Even better? A note at the door: Free entry.

Just like the street performers reminded us—the best art is paid for with love.

We walked in, nervous we were early. It was only 9:30 p.m., and in Spain, that’s basically pre-dinner.
But the moment we sat down, the music began.

The first song: Ain’t No Sunshine. One of my all-time favorites.
Have You Ever Seen the Rain came next. La Ballerine and I gasped—it’s a signature song for both of us.
Then Creep, which we’d just heard live in the street together the week before.

We danced. We sang. We fell into perfect rhythm with the night.

While getting ready earlier, I had been listening to Prince. Kiss came on. I fell back in love with the song and promised myself I’d remember to make sure it’s in my music library.

So when they performed Kiss next, we weren’t even surprised.
Of course they would.

La Ballerine turned to me and said, “What could possibly happen next?”

I joked, “I don’t know... maybe Elvis will show up.”

A terrible line I just pulled out of my ass.

But, I think you already know what happened.

About an hour and a half later, after we’d been blown away by audience members getting up on stage and singing like angels who agreed to visit Earth just for the night, Elvis emerged.
Striped pants. Black vest. Dark hair. Deep voice.
Cue: Hound Dog.

We screamed. We danced.
Barcelona’s Elvis was twisting, jumping, sliding on his knees, landing in the splits.

Later, he came up to us—smiling—and said the words that will stay with us forever:

“Never lose your brightness.”

That’s the utter magic of humanity.
Of nights that unfold better than any script you could write.

I’m starting to think we’re not meant to crack life.
Maybe it’s already the exact dream our souls crafted—just so we could experience it in full.