Working as a nomad for HSP's

  The Boy Inside the Man Many men carry unresolved stories from boyhood. The boy who was never allowed to cry. The boy who had to become the emotional caretaker of his mother. The boy who grew into a man still yearning to be held but not knowing how to ask. In this silent pain, many have forgotten how to be. As a woman, I’ve been both receiver and reflector of this energy. Some lovers entered my life as  portals . Their sexuality awakened me—yes—but so did their  presence . They didn’t just take—they saw. Not all were ready to hold me, but they each revealed something I needed to remember. “Love, for me, began in the barren spaces of my childhood— watching soccer with my father on Sundays, hoping to be seen, hungering for warmth. That hunger shaped the woman I became.” Through my body, I healed.  Through intimacy, I began to remember that sex could be sacred. 🌙 Sacred Sexuality In many spiritual spaces, sexuality is not allowed as we want sacredness between souls....

  A Journey into Sensuality, Intimacy & the Sacred Feminine Mirror There’s a quiet ache in many men I meet—a longing to feel, to be seen, to touch life not through performance but presence. Performance Over Being In corporate arenas and relationships alike, many men have been trained to  perform . To prove worth through action. To provide, protect, and achieve— but rarely to receive, feel, or rest in their own emotional truth. “Before I was even in the door, he was already performing. Desperate to prove his worth, Afraid to just sit down and talk. As if the value of a man was in how well he performed—not who he truly is.” This story is not about shaming masculinity—it’s about freeing it. In this  series on male sexuality we will look into blocks that disfigure male sexual energy.  Through paying attention we will guide you back to your authentic self, where sexual energy is as much a flow as the rest of your life energy.  Follow these posts here or on substa...

 The many forms of me  I met my inner child again in 2004. She was waiting—tender, shy, observant— buried beneath years of performance and pain. In 2006, I found the divine. God walked beside me that year. I lived in practiced devotion— spiritual rituals became my breath and food. Then came 2007. I left the familiar. Journeyed to wild lands, and dared to become what no one else had the courage to embrace: myself, unmasked. I returned. To Rotterdam. To volunteer work. To myself. To choices that felt true— not those society handed me. It became a path of awareness, a shedding of what was never mine to carry. Two decades of clearing. Generations of feminine trauma slowly released from my body, my sight, my soul. 2012:  The marriage. An lightning path to salvation from poverty and pain - sometimes wrapped in love. A soul contract—yes— to help each other feel again. To feel  worthy . He saw my spirit—truly saw— but couldn’t hold it without breaking. Ego’s shame blurred hi...

  Sex, Sensuality, and Femininity As I walk into this house in Busot— where my newly made female friend lives— I am introduced to  shameless nudity . She is hot in the summer heat of South Spain.  And so walks around half-naked most of the time. This is her freedom. To walk. To be seen. To exist as she chooses. Her boyfriend has grown used to it. But to me, it’s a foreign act— to take off the top, leave the underwear on, and live in fullness. Without shame. Without covers. Without masks. Own your 50+ body. What are we still ashamed of?

  Sacred Sensuality: Remembering the Divine Union In many cultures—mine included, growing up in Suriname—sexual education was reduced to biology: diagrams, condoms, and whispered curiosities. Boys and girls met in schoolrooms, not sanctuaries. We learned about sex, but not about  intimacy . No one spoke of the soul. No one told us that the act of love could be sacred. As a medical doctor and a woman, I now know: what we are missing is not information—but  initiation . Many men today long to explore feminine sensuality not to conquer it, but to  reclaim something within themselves —a softness, a sacredness, a forgotten tenderness. They are afraid of hurting the feminine because deep down, they carry reverence. They are looking for direction, a map back to wholeness. And many women, too, have not truly met their feminine essence—only the outer expressions of desirability shaped by culture, media, or trauma. We were not taught that sexuality is a  portal . For me, ...

  When the Soul Gets Caught Up in Facilities As I left my perfectly catered life in the high end of Busot—a space quite big and stretching at my own boundaries—I noticed I missed the things that supported my life. A smart cleaning square tune that wiped my screen so efficiently. Some flashes of things, walks, and experiences passed by as I said farewell to that chapter. And I realized, with the missing of the small things, how the soul gets so caught up in having things. It takes effort to detach and remember: they are just facilities. And the self-sovereign soul… can recreate it all. Taking it in as inspiration, I rest and remember the  being meditation  I did yesterday in my new place— with the man who got off the couch. Because he is awake. Aligned. But in the silence of his confusion, he was lost in a relationship where shadow wreaks havoc. We talked about self-esteem— about believing more in your own worthiness than the mirror of your partner in shadow that makes you...

Soul Homecoming & Summer Solstice Light As Trump stirs conflict in the East, I spent the night laughing—like I haven’t in ages. There was something in the air. The pot, the flowing beer, the gentle rhythm of a weaning moon. Or maybe it was just the sweet surrender of letting go. This afternoon, sitting by the little pool in Busot, something shifted. People opened up—to light, to meditation, to truth. Conversations turned to war, endings, and what lies beyond. A quiet knowing that we are, perhaps, nearing the end of an era. Even the dog whispered it to me two days ago. As I navigate complex relationships, I sense it more clearly: we are returning home. Not to a place, but to soul. Soul-ward. Star-bound. And oddly, that brings peace. Yes, the war is coming. But so is the light. And if we focus on why we love this strange, beautiful game of life and death—we can be content. So tonight, we laughed. About the madness, the meaning, and the mess. June is flowing, the stars are aligned, an...

A Pool, A Portal, and a Quiet New Start As I stepped out of the pool for the second time, I felt it—something was shifting. My little pool at this feminine sanctuary in the lower part of Busot had quietly welcomed me home. It wasn’t just a swim; it was a baptism of sorts. A washing off of old ties, old noise, and the karmic residue of a chapter now complete. The pool itself is small and level—no deep or shallow end. Just calm, even water. Stability, mirroring my life. After a few laps, I noticed something was settling in me. I was adjusting. I was getting enthused. The New Start in Loewr Busot area I had come down teh mountain just a few days earlier, as I had left my ex’s house.  For the sixth time, yes—but this time, something was different. I was calm. No emotional pull, no tears, no drama. He was occupied with family matters, and I was occupied with my peace. The karmic account felt closed. I saw it clearly: this wasn’t a dramatic ending; it was a clean one. Before nightfall, I...

The Calm Voice of Truth – Living Free Somewhere along the path of love, I disappeared a little. Not all at once—but slowly, subtly, until the silence inside me screamed louder than the voice outside. I had entered what looked like safety—a home, a man, shared mornings. But safety turned out to be a cage. A golden one, maybe—but still a cage. Because the truth is: There wasn’t just subtle control. There was shouting. There was jealousy. There was resistance to my natural rhythm—my Aries fast and hard working rhythm. My deep Silent yogi Pisces Rhythm - he thougth we were a match, but he forgot to look at my side of the table.  My Five hours of focused work lit by fire, passion, and soul purpose? It was too much for him. My devotion to what moves me—my mission, my momentum—was seen as abandonment. And that was the beginning of the unraveling. It wasn’t love. It was a need to possess. To pull me from my path. To drain my light to soothe his shadow. And I—woman of movement, born to igni...

✨  On Love: Beyond Emotion, Into Soul Purpose  ✨ C.S. Lewis, in  The Four Loves , describes the richness and complexity of love—affection, friendship, eros, and charity. But what if love is also karmic? A soul contract between humans… a spiritual invitation to heal, grow, and serve. I believe love is a sacred path: 💫 First, reconnect with the Divine 💫 Then, return to balance through loving the self 💫 And from that wholeness—give charitably, unconditionally This isn’t sentimental. It’s soul-focused. It’s what keeps us grounded in a fragmented world. To love with awareness is to stay present with the pain  and  the potential of others. To love is to hold space for our fellow soul travelers—brother souls, as I call them—without losing focus on truth. 🕊️ Love, then, becomes leadership. It becomes medicine. It becomes clarity. #SoulLeadership #KarmicLove #FeminineLeadership  #HealingThroughLove #TheCalmVoiceOfTruth #CSLewis #SpiritualityAndLeadership

I love people. From frustrated companions to scared coach colleagues… from excited Airbnb guests to strangers in supermarkets. They challenge me, stretch me, reflect me—and somehow, they make me more  me . They remind me to stay light. Yesterday marked four months since I met the man I now call my partner. It was a serendipitous meeting on Playa San Juan, the kind of moment that shifts timelines quietly but irrevocably. We didn’t celebrate big. We jsut dcided spur of the moment to go down our mountain to the beach front restaus and have food, his favorite pass time.. We ended up in a sushi place, just like were we met 4 months ago, different place, same timeline.  He smiled like he had won the jackpot, and we had food, shared a glass of wine, and ended the evening—brace yourself—doing chess puzzles. I know. Romance, left-brain edition. My body was calm, but my mind—it started whispering again. “Why did the energy shift?” “Was it me?” “Did he notice?” My critical thoughts resur...

A Morning Pause with a Caterpillar: A Lesson in Patience and Transformation This morning, as I went about preparing my breakfast, grabbing a fresh pack of milk from the cabinet, I paused. On the back curve of the soya drink’s seal, nestled a tiny caterpillar, vibrant with shades of green and yellow. It immediately caught my attention. I took a moment to register the sight. Then, stepping outside, I kept my eyes on my new little friend. There, in the stillness of the morning, I felt like it was speaking to me. It whispered a message:  Wait. Don’t rush. There’s beauty in patience. As I stood on the terrace in Busot, Spain, trying to decide where to place my caterpillar companion, my eyes fell on my budding papaya plants—my pride and joy, freshly sprouted from tiny seeds. I had a small plastic cup filled with water for their growth, but as you can imagine, a thick leaf was floating in the water, and I decided to use it to gently slide my new caterpillar off the soya drink’s seal. At f...