28/05/2025
Zo mooi hoe dieren ons laten zien. Aanwezigheid zonder verwachtingen! Ter inspiratie voor iedereen. Bij mij reis in Peru heb ik dit zo ervaren. Sisterhood, zonder vragen. Gezien worden met hart en ziel. De taal sprak ik niet, maar de taal van liefde heb ik ervaren en die neem ik mee in mijn werk. Voelen, afstemmen, intuïtie. Geen vragen, er gewoon zijn en mensen laten voelen wat ze nodig hebben. De magie vd yurt en de natuur doet de rest. behandelen.
When Milo, the tiny orange kitten, arrived at the shelter, he didn’t cry.
He didn’t play.
He just curled up in the corner—trembling like a leaf that had lost its tree.
We’ve all seen that look.
In animals. In people. In ourselves.
The kind of silence that isn’t peace, but protection.
The kind that says, “I don’t trust the world to hold me anymore.”
Then came Toby.
A tabby who had once curled up the same way—until someone showed him what it meant to be held, not hurt. Loved, not left.
When they placed Milo into Toby’s room, no one expected much. But Toby walked right over. Gave the tiniest nudge. Then wrapped himself around the kitten like a blanket made of safety.
That night, Milo slept for the first time in days.
And he never trembled again.
It wasn’t therapy.
It wasn’t a plan.
It was presence.
And in that moment, Milo received what so many humans spend their whole lives searching for:
Someone who doesn’t need to fix you.
Someone who just says, “As long as I’m here, you’re safe.”
We live in a world where people are more connected than ever, and yet so many are silently curled up inside, trembling.
What we’re missing isn’t productivity.
It’s each other.
This isn’t just a photo of two cats sleeping.
It’s a mirror.
A lesson.
A reminder that sometimes healing begins with the simplest promise:
“You’re not alone anymore.”
