A moment of trust

When I had my pictures taken in the park, something unexpected happened. A little bee was resting on the grass, unable to fly. I gently picked her up, wanting to move her away from the place we had chosen for the photos, and place her somewhere safe—on a flower or a tree.

She stayed in my hand.

She moved her delicate legs along my skin, wandering from one hand to the other. I watched her tiny movements, felt the softness of her presence. There was no fear, just a shared moment between two beings. My friend, noticing how tender it all looked, had the idea to photograph us—me and this little bee.

Later, a dear guest commented on the picture. He said that the bee trusted me and there was no way she would sting.

And something in his words stayed with me.

There was trust both ways. I didn’t think, even for a second, that she might sting me. It wasn’t the first time I’d picked up a bee in my hands—I always felt a kind of quiet understanding with them. And she, in turn, didn’t feel threatened. She stayed there, calm and gentle, as if she could feel she was safe, cared for, noticed.

After our little photoshoot, I placed her softly on a nearby tree, and we continued taking pictures. But I kept thinking about her.

That moment reminded me of what happens in my sessions. When we feel safe, something soft opens. Like the bee, when we are not rushed, not feared, not squashed, we can rest, we can trust.

Touch is powerful—but what makes it truly magical is the intention behind it. Just like I held the bee gently and paid attention to her signals, I meet each person I work with with the same presence, the same awareness and the same care.

That little bee gave me more than just a photo. She reminded me how simple, how sacred it is to be fully present with another being—and how deep trust can grow in the smallest, quietest of moments.

Love,
Rosie x