Newsletter early May 2026
After a few days in Italy with a friend, I’m back in the Netherlands and I’m already right back in
it. That always happens faster than I expect. A few walks through the Scheveningse woods, enjoying
the weather, and simply getting back to work — that’s all I need to find my rhythm again. I notice
I enjoy both. Being away, and also coming back.
Over the past few weeks, I’ve also been exploring different work locations and decided to add an
extra space. It gives me just a bit more ease and flexibility in how I structure my days. Other
than that, work is flowing the way I like it. I’m doing readings and therapeutic sessions, writing
reports, and working on the training. It feels calm, clear, and focused.
What is actually alive in you
Something I’ve been noticing again lately, especially in that moment of coming back and stepping
into my rhythm, is how quickly we tend to do what makes sense. We pick things back up, keep going,
make choices that look right on paper. And in a way, that’s completely fine.
But I notice, in myself and in my work, that there is often something underneath that doesn’t
automatically move along with that.
There’s a real difference between what seems logical and what actually feels true inside. Many
people have become very good at making sensible decisions. Decisions that fit expectations, that
are practical, that make sense. And from the outside, it often looks right. Even solid. But on the
inside, things can become quiet. Or restless. As if something isn’t quite moving along.
What is actually alive in you doesn’t always show up in a logical way. It often comes through small
signals. A slight tension in your body, procrastination, not feeling like doing something without a
clear reason. Or a sense of relief that comes with a thought that may not be very “practical” at
all. Those are the moments where something in you knows something different than what your mind is
telling you.
Learning to listen to that requires something different than analyzing. It asks you to slow down.
To pause and feel before turning it into a story. To take yourself seriously, even when you don’t
yet know where it’s leading. Because often, you already know on some level — but you’ve learned to
move past it. Because it’s inconvenient. Because it complicates things. Or because you’re afraid of
the consequences.
In my work, I see how powerful it is when someone starts listening to that layer again. Not in a
big or dramatic way, but in a very practical one. By being honest about what’s there. By not
pushing through when something doesn’t feel right. And by acknowledging that what lives inside you
is there for a reason — even if it doesn’t make sense yet. The more you do that, the more things
settle. Not because everything is solved, but because you’re no longer bypassing yourself. And that
creates direction.
What I often see in sessions
What I’ve been seeing a lot lately in sessions are people who actually know themselves very well.
They can clearly explain where their patterns come from, they’ve thought about it for years, and
often tried many things already. They know they give too much in relationships, that they overstep
their own boundaries, that receiving is difficult. They see themselves staying in situations or
with people who don’t give them what they need. The insight is already there. And still, nothing
really changes.
That’s exactly where things tend to get stuck. The mind understands, but the rest doesn’t move
along. Not the body, not the nervous system, and certainly not the younger parts within you that
once learned how to respond in order to stay safe. Those parts don’t respond to logic. They respond
to what feels familiar, even if that familiarity isn’t good for you.
So what happens is that you keep correcting yourself from your mind. You know you should do things
differently, so you try to. You set boundaries, give less, try to receive more. But inside, there’s
still something else. Something that feels tension. Something that finds it difficult to take up
space, to receive, to let go. And as long as that part isn’t truly included, it keeps pulling.
That’s why understanding alone is often not enough. Sometimes it even makes things more
frustrating. Because you can see it, but you can’t seem to change it. As if you keep telling
yourself it should be different, while something in you simply isn’t there yet.
What’s needed then is not another insight, but contact. Honestly pausing with what is happening
inside you in that moment. Not just the story, but the reaction underneath it. The tension, the
pleasing, the withdrawing, the holding on. And allowing that, without immediately trying to fix it.
That’s exactly where it often becomes uncomfortable. Because what lives inside you isn’t always
logical or convenient. Sometimes it’s small, angry, dependent, or afraid. Sometimes it wants
something that doesn’t fit the image you have of yourself. And that’s exactly why we tend to move
past it.
But the moment you stay with it, something shifts. Space opens up. Not because you’ve fixed
anything, but because you’re no longer skipping over yourself. And that’s where real movement
begins.
A question I often get
A question I regularly get is: is a reading something for me if I’m not spiritual?
The short answer is: yes.
Many people have a certain idea about what a “reading” is. Something vague, something intangible,
something you have to believe in. And if that doesn’t resonate, it’s easy to dismiss it. While
that’s actually not what it’s about.
What I do in a reading is very concrete. I look with you at what’s happening beneath the surface.
Patterns, relational dynamics, where you lose yourself or hold back. Not just through analysis, but
by directly tuning into what is alive in you.
Many of the people I work with are actually quite grounded. They’ve already understood a lot, and
notice they’re stuck on a certain level. They’re not looking for an experience, but for clarity.
Something that helps them not only understand what’s going on, but actually move through it.
That’s where a reading becomes valuable. It goes beyond thinking, without becoming vague. It makes
visible what you already feel on some level, but haven’t fully been able to place yet. And that’s
what makes it practical. You can apply it in your daily life, in your choices, in how you relate to
yourself and others.
What does matter is that you’re open, and willing to open yourself during the session. Not in a big
or perfect way, but honestly. Because that’s what allows something to become visible on the level
where it truly matters.
So no, you don’t have to see yourself as spiritual. You don’t have to believe in anything. But if
you’re willing to look at what is alive in you — even if it’s not yet fully clear or comfortable —
then a reading can be very fitting for you.
New blogs
Over the past few weeks, I’ve written several blogs on themes I often encounter, both in sessions
and beyond. You can find them at www.heelde.org/blog.
Falling for an unavailable man or woman explores the pattern of being drawn to
people who aren’t truly available, what drives that attraction, and how to move towards a different
kind of choice.
Thinking as a defense mechanism looks at how a quick, analytical mind can function
as a buffer for real emotion, and why understanding is not the same as feeling.
Highly sensitive and tired of the city: what your body is trying to tell you is
about the longing for rest, space, and nature, and why that’s not a luxury but a signal.
How a soul contract keeps you smaller than you are explores connections you feel
but can’t explain, and what becomes possible when you allow yourself to release them.
Practical
A practical note for those who have a session planned: I’m now also working from a new location at
Stories on the Eisenhouwerlaan in The Hague. Please check carefully where your session will take
place. Elise will send you an email with the exact location. I’ll be starting there in June.
There are currently plenty of booking options available for readings and therapeutic sessions,
including holistic EMDR, constellations, inner child work, emotional coaching, and soul retrieval.
I’d love to see you.
Warm regards,
Hilde
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