When Hands Are Working and the Heart Takes Part.
To raise some funds to support our journey across the Americas, Fernando had the idea of selling Brazilian cheese breads (pão de queijo). And I had to prepare them. In the span of a week, we made around 1,300 of them. The plan was simple: turn time and work into resources for the trip. But, as so often happens in life, what begins for one reason can end up taking us somewhere else entirely.
That week, my days were filled with a repetitive sequence of gestures: mixing the dough, rolling it, freezing it, packing it, and starting over again. While my hands worked, I listened to mantras and meditative music - often the album Sem Pressa, by Terra Luz. Little by little, that work found a rhythm of its own.
At some point, I began paying attention not only to what my hands were doing, but also to what I was putting into each gesture. What feelings were accompanying that making?
As I rolled the dough, I found myself quietly wishing that the people receiving those cheese breads would find something good in them. A little more serenity. Love. Peace. Harmony. And, of course, that they would enjoy them too.
I believe intentions travel alongside the things we create.
And I realized they also transform the ones who cultivate them.
The repetition stopped feeling like a task and became a practice of presence. I was no longer simply producing something. I was inhabiting each movement with greater attention.
Abundance, though, didn’t show up while I was making the cheese breads. It revealed itself a few days later, during a yard sale we organized in our backyard. As I served the cheese breads still warm from the oven, I watched people tasting them, smiling, coming back for another, talking about the flavour, texture and sharing that moment with one another.
That was when I realized something that may have been forming since the very first batch. I was offering time, care, and work. In return, I was receiving support, trust, encouragement, and reassurance for the journey we are about to begin. Financial support, yes - but emotional support too. What had seemed like a simple sale was, in truth, a much higher exchange.
That day, it became clear to me that generosity doesn’t end when it is offered. It keeps moving. From one person to another, creating bonds, strengthening communities, and reminding us that we rarely walk alone.
After an intense weekend of selling, some questions still stay with me:
If even a simple task can carry intention, care, and presence, then what are our hands placing into the world when we are truly present?
And what impact do your actions have on the people around you, and on your community?
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