The Energies of November – 2017

“…the whole ‘know thyself’ thing isn’t a journey to a fixed destination. Learning about myself changes me, forcing me to learn more. ‘Know thyself’ isn’t a goal; it’s a road.” 
~  Garon Whited

 

Hello, Lovelies :)

Here we are at November. Energetically it’s a month for knowing ourselves deeply, for healing old hurts and for prioritising and redesigning our lives so that they better represent the person we are and the person we want to become.

That’s important work at any time, but it becomes all the more significant as we realise that the work we do in November is setting us up for the year ahead. The actions we take, the choices we make, and the healing, planning and dreaming we do clears the way for 2018, allowing us to consciously begin manifesting the kind of year we intend for ourselves.

Cards for the Month:

I’ve chosen two cards for November for you: one from the Osho Zen Tarot Deck, and one from Colette Baron-Reid’s Wisdom of the Oracle. Please note I don’t use these cards in the conventional way, but rather as a stimulus for channelled information.

Here is what I have received from each card:

“Have no fear of perfection – you’ll never reach it.” 
Salvador Dalí

November invites you to embrace your faults, and to see your individuality as a good thing. There is no point in trying to conform and losing yourself in the process. Your authority and integrity come from that place inside you where you can be vulnerable and honest – where we get the real you and not some slick marketing promise, or you trying desperately hard to be someone that you’re not.

What you love, who you love and what makes you happy is what’s important. Not what other people think. Not what other people may try to impose upon you. Embrace the yearnings of your heart this month. Stop fighting them and surrender instead. Make your life suit you and support you. Wear clothe that express your personal style, listen to the music you love, rearrange your home and your routines so that what matters to you is better represented.  You’ll be glad you did.

November is an excellent month for healing the hurts and low-self-worth issues that stem from the bullying or judgments of others directed at you as a child, or through your adult years until now. November teaches us where to stand strong, and where we will be better with some flexibility in our lives. We get to define or redefine our priorities. Much of this can happen on its own as you experience emotional shift, but if you know this is a major issue for you seek professional support and get the help you need to move on.

When you live authentically, magic happens. You become magnetic to the right lover, the best fit with friends, the opportunities that actually suit your talents and abilities. November encourages you to move from a limited or stuck version of yourself, or a small version of yourself, to one that is vibrant with your true colours, and full of kindness and possibility.

The second card I’ve chosen is Mending. It’s a time for co-operation, forgiveness, shared vision and tending our dreams.

“Sometimes, reaching out and taking someone’s hand is the beginning of a journey. At other times, it is allowing another to take yours.” Vera Nazarian

In November our self-worth and confidence grow, for no apparent reason except that enough time has been lost in the mistaken belief that we are somehow not enough.

We are supported to acknowledge and accept that there are people in our lives who once hurt us but who have changed, and we see where we may reconnect or mend relationships, letting the past drop away behind us. The blinds fall from our eyes and we also see the relationships and situations that are damaging to our well-being, no matter how positively these things may be viewed by people looking in on our lives. We come to see what is good for us, and what is poison. We’ll see where we need to act, ending or redeeming relationships. We’ll see where we need to forgive ourselves or ask for forgiveness.

In all areas of our life Mending encourages us to repair, improve, make-over and heal ourselves where our life is no longer pleasing or functional. We are shown that it is up to us to choose joy, and to craft a life for ourselves that has beauty and meaning.

It’s a fabulous month for planning, and for all forms of self-improvement. We’re invited to put energy into the things that are dear to us and to work together on projects and dreams.

Best crystals this month?

Green Aventurine and Iolite.

Green Aventurine helps us connect to joy, optimism and self-confidence.It fosters self-love and gratitude for ourselves

Image from http://www.gemstonebuzz.com

Iolite is a mystical stone that helps us to illuminate what’s hidden within ourselves. A stone for self-exploration and for helping us to find our way.

Image from http://ptitscailloux71.canalblog.com

Essential oils to support your journey?

Young Living’s Acceptance and Joy essential oil blends would be my picks for November. Use Acceptance for emotional healing – diffusing anger and pain, ending procrastination and opening to new directions and opportunities. Joy opens our hearts and helps us to re-engage with the flow of life. It is uplifting, comforting and empowering. Dab a drop of either oil on your Crown Chakra, back of neck, wrists and the soles of your feet, inhale directly or add to your diffuser. 

Want to make your own blend? Each of the following oils will work beautifully on their own for you this month, but they’ll also make a delicious combination for diffusing. Vetiver will calm and ground us, promoting emotional balance, Lavender keeps us in flow and relaxed,  Ylang Ylang opens our hearts and is supportive when we feel anxious or overwhelmed, and Bergamot for joy, gratitude and optimism.  To diffuse add 2 or three drops of each oil to your room or personal diffuser. You can find the oils here.

Need some extra encouragement, support or inspiration for November or the year ahead?

I have lots of ideas and events that can help you!

  1. If you jump over to my Cauldrons and Cupcakes Facebook page at 9am Brisbane time today I’m doing a Facebook Live Event to tell you more about the month ahead. It’s totally free and I’d love to see you there. Can’t make it then? Don’t worry. You can catch the replay!
  2. I’ve created a free Guided Meditation to help you release the pain from childhood and from bullying events in your life until now. That will be in my blog post tomorrow – November 2. All you need to do is come visit my blog to access it, or if you subscribe to my blog (link on home page) it will get delivered straight to your inbox.
  3. #GeSHiDoMo 2017 – (Which stands for Get Sh*t Done Month 2017) This crazy November-long online program and community costs just $22 Australian dollars and it begins today! We ran this last year as a one-of thing but had so many requests to do it again that we’ve made it an annual event. I’ve created a simple system for planning and actioning your To-Do List in November. It’s a month of fun activities and support to help you get a serious amount of sh*t or a serious amount of self-care done. Lots of videos to help you, and Facebook Live sessions with me. There are some great prizes, and a really good bunch of people there. You’ll love it! You can read more about it and come join us from here.
  4. Soul Sanctuary Retreat – Working With Crystals – Do you need some time for recharging, reconnecting and being re-inspired? In late November I’ll be running my final residential retreat for 2017 in beautiful Byron Bay, Australia. It’s a special time of year for my team and I. We plan this retreat, no matter what the content focus might be, as a week of Soul Sanctuary – time for self-nurture, friendship, reflection, planning and the foundation of some truly life-changing habits. This year’s theme is ‘Working With Crystals’. I’ll be teaching you foundation skills for meditation and self-care, intuitive practices including card readings, a bunch of stuff on how to choose and use crystals, as well as lovely crafty stuff like making your own crystal tools, essences, jewellery and mandalas. We’ll also be using November’s energies to plan for 2018. 2018’s heart-centred energies support connection, collaboration, communication and community. It will be a year for expressing ourselves in the world, for starting and growing life-changing projects, for truly becoming more and offering more of our gifts, talents and wisdom. This Retreat will help you to understand the energies and opportunities of 2018, and get you started with a plan, a full spiritual tool-kit and a personal session with me, focusing on how to make the most of the year ahead. More info here. We still have a few places left, but please act quickly. 
  5. And save the dates for the following goodness:
    My Christmas Pop-Up Shop, Official 2018 Planner Launch, Channelling evening and workshops (Vision Board for 2018 and Intuitive Oracle/Tarot Card Reading Class) happen on 15 and 16 of December in Brisbane.
    Our next Year of ME (ME stands for Manifesting Energies!) year-long membership group with online course, webinars with me, facebook live events and a superbly supportive and caring community launches in early December. More details soon.

I love this time of year. Come hang out with me and let’s share the adventure together.

Biggest love and hugs, Nicole ❤ xoxo

This is How The Universe Works…

“There are no ordinary moments. There is always something going on.” ~  Peaceful Warrior

“Everything around us is made up of energy. To attract positive things in your life, start by giving off positive energy.” ~ Celestine Chua

A few days ago, as I sat at my desk early, early, early in the morning, looking at my brilliant new idea I want to launch, looking at all of my hopes and dreams for this and next year, looking at the mountain of work I have between now and Christmas, I felt, for a moment, exhausted. And a little uncertain.

I’d felt so guided to move in this direction. The work had flowed so smoothly. I was on fire in a way I haven’t been on fire for years. And yet…

And yet in the midst of all of this I’d ended up in hospital and then on bed rest – right when I was meant to be getting my magical new idea finished.

I’d nursed my friend in her dying weeks, and willingly put all work aside to do that.

My glorious projects, already on tight time lines, now seemed more than a little crazy.

So here I was, early in the morning, looking at my endless to-do list, still having occasional little heart pains, wondering if maybe this time, I’d been misguided.

I asked Rollo, one of my Guides, whether I was on the right path. I had a need for some kind of validation or direction. I would have been really grateful if he’d just said yes or no. Followed by telling me what to do.

Instead he said this. “You’ll get your answers today. In the same way you help others, others will help you. Trust the Universe.” (He’s big on this Trust the Universe stuff!)

i-am-open-to-the-guidance-of-synchronicity-and-do-not-let-expectations-hinder-my-path

So, I trusted. With a little flame of excitement in my belly, Ben and I took off to our favourite city cafe to have some breakfast. With Harry the Cafe Dog, of course.

I hadn’t been sitting at our regular table on the sidewalk very long, when a smiling gentleman at the table behind me said, “Excuse me, but are you spiritual?”

I smiled too. It was a strange thing to say, but I knew exactly what he meant. I hadn’t seen this man before, but he seemed like a local. We ended up having a lovely discussion while Ben was inside ordering our coffees. After which the conversation continued in sociable dribs and drabs.

After breakfast, while I was waiting for Ben to buy a box of chocolates for a neighbour, the smiling gentleman passed me a box of oracle cards.

“Go on,” he said. ” Have a look. They’re new. I think you’ll like them.”

‘Really?’ I was thinking, but also ‘how cool! This is the sort of stuff I’m always doing for other people…’

So, I took the cards from their box, (Colette Baron-Reid’s Wisdom of the Oracle) shuffled and gave myself a three card reading about my year ahead and these crazy projects, being completely open to whatever the Universe might tell me.

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“Read the messages in the little book,” the smiling man said. “They’re so accurate.”

So I did. Each message built on the one before, and all of the news was good. Believe in myself and my dreams and my community and keep going. This was it. All green lights. I snapped a quick photo with my phone so I would remember the cards and their messages.

I was about to put the cards back, when the man said, “Go on, do one more, one card just to top it off. Just to complete the magic.”

So I did, and got this.

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I read the little book. The message was perfect.

The man and I chatted a bit more, exchanged names and contact details, and then to my surprise the smiling man we now knew as Chris gifted my husband and I two free movie passes.

It was the most magical of mornings. Thank you, Chris!

To top it off, after a busy day of clients, I then needed to go see a friend about my magical idea. I was exhausted, but it was important that I go, so that this idea can be birthed in the world. It’s a timeline thing. A deadline thing. You know how it is. My friend is a graphic designer, and I met her at her home that evening.

I discussing something else my friend gave me a piece of advice that sorted out a problem I’d been struggling with for over a year. Just like that, all the pieces of my puzzle came together. Thanks, Bek!

Rollo was right. I trusted, and my answers came in the coolest and most delightful way possible.

So, how about you? Where do you need a little help or guidance? All you need to do is put it out there, and trust!

Random Magical Things

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“And above all, watch with glittering eyes the whole world around you because the greatest secrets are always hidden in the most unlikely places. Those who don’t believe in magic will never find it.”
~ Roald Dahl

 

Here’s a collection of random magical things, because it’s Friday, and magic seems appropriate today, don’t you think…

The feather above is from a Powerful Owl who comes to sit in the giant old teak tree outside my window, watching me as I write.

Here is a big chunk of Australian green chrysoprase I found on the side of a newly graded road, just outside Kalgoolie. It’s one of my favourite stones for Heart Chakra meditations.

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These are some small sacred treasures given to me by an Aboriginal woman, one magical day…

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I found these seagull tracks in the sand on an early morning beach walk.

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Bonfires at dusk evoke their own kind of magic, flames all a crackle and dancing merrily.

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Waking to a sparkly winter wonderland when my farm frosts is always a magical feeling.

frst

Secret fairy messages scribbled on the fallen gum tree bark.

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The first newborn spring calf!

missy

And cupcakes, because what is life without a little cupcake love now and again?

cake

 

Storm Clouds and Other Magical Things

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“When you come out of the storm, you won’t be the same person who walked in. That’s what this storm’s all about.”
~ Haruki Murakami, Kafka on the Shore

 

As I finished my meditation this morning, sitting on the veranda overlooking the ocean, a lightning storm began. There was no thunder. The whole thing unfolded in the predawn silence. Great purple clouds hung over the ocean, lit from within with flashing ribbons of light.

I wondered who else might be awake to see the theatre of that moment, before I realised the storm was just for me.

A long time ago, when I lived in the Kimberley, my Aboriginal Aunties taught me that the landscape is a teacher – that it holds messages for you, if only you can be still and pay attention.

So I sat and watched the storm, and the slow creep of dawn. I took a short walk as everyone else slept, feeling the communion of trees, the companionship of the waning quarter moon, the fellowship of the many birds singing their morning song.

My heart was breaking and flowing over with love all at once.

We live firmly set within the midst of magic.

As dawn broke the clouds lit with pink and gold. The storm moved further out to sea, leaving behind the clean, soft beginning of today.

I have had little sleep, but I feel renewed.

There will be magic within the walls of my hall today. Magic for the participants of my retreat. I can feel it in the air.

I’m holding you in my heart, and sending you love and bright sparks of possibility.

What magic is around you right now? What messages?

Be open to good things. Know that you are in this life for a reason.

Much love, Nicole xx

Image form flickr

Image from flickr

Sneaking Out For Love

Image from Dwallpaper.net

Image from Dwallpaper.net

“I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where. I love you simply, without problems or pride: I love you in this way because I do not know any other way of loving but this, in which there is no I or you, so intimate that your hand upon my chest is my hand, so intimate that when I fall asleep your eyes close.”
~ Pablo Neruda, 100 Love Sonnets

 

I was such a good girl, growing up. I never snuck out of the house. I never lied to my parents about where I was going.

Now I’m married though, that’s all changed.

In the middle of my retreat – that’s right, the one I am running – I am sneaking out.

I’ve been calling my husband twice a day, even though our farm is barely ten minutes up the road, and we are only apart for five days. I just want to hear his voice. To find about his day. To say good morning or good night.

Yesterday, like teenagers, we planned a secret tryst.

This morning, very early, my husband will call past the front door of the place where my retreat is being hosted. He’ll be in the farm ute, with Harry Dog chained in the back. I’ll meet him out on the road, and jump in beside him. We’ll hold hands driving into Byron Bay, enjoy a walk, and an early breakfast, and then he’ll whisk me back to the retreat before anyone even notices I have gone.

I feel like a schoolgirl, all sweetly excited and quietly thrilled.

Ain’t love grand!

Image from Love Quotes

Image from Love Quotes

Lyme and Making Plans

“She had learned the lesson of renunciation and was as familiar with the wreck of each day’s wishes as with the diurnal setting of the sun.” 
~ Thomas Hardy, The Mayor of Casterbridge

“Success is when everything that goes wrong, fits in your plan.” 
~ Gary Rudz

 

When I was diagnosed, finally, with Lyme disease, back in January 2013, we did a lot of shuffling of plans. A much-looked-forward-to holiday was called off. I cancelled workshops and retreats. My clever PA began adding a footnote to each appointment she made for me, letting people know that I was being treated for Lyme and that I may need to reschedule their session at short notice, depending upon my health on the day.

I’ve had to do a lot of that anyway, in my adult life. Cancel things. Say no. Pull out at the last minute. Always because of unreliable health. Too often that has made me the unreliable friend, family member, or neighbour. The only area I have managed to be mostly reliable has been work. But doing that has meant creating a business where I can work from home, part-time, and where everything else suffers so that I can get that work done.

Sure I’ve gone ahead sometimes and done the thing, but too often afterwards I’ve paid the price. An afternoon of socialising might mean three days of crippling exhaustion. A few hours of gardening could leave me flat out for the rest of the week.

“Gee Nicole,” a friend said once, frustrated at my lack of energy, “we all get tired.” Yes, we do. But Lyme tired is something else. Lyme tired is truly chronic fatigue. Lyme tired is neurological fatigue, as well as physical. It’s the kind of tired where after just a few hours work I am in bed by seven and asleep by ten past. And that’s on a good day. 🙂 Lyme tired is the kind of tired where I can struggle with basic daily living – like showering and dressing, holding a conversation, preparing a meal or attending to the simplest kinds of housework. The kind of tired where my arm stops working, or my eye starts twitching, or my brain goes on strike.

My exhaustion is an ocean, under the influence of some great unseen force. Sometimes it recedes, leaving a gleaming bright shore of possibility. I get stretches where I can do so much more, and I settle in to that as my new normal. But then the tide comes back, and I find myself with a smaller and smaller window of available time where my brain works, or my body works and I can get things done.

To be honest, I’d hoped that this far into my Lyme treatment, an aggressive protocol of drugs and herbs, that I would have been back to much more glorious planning again by now. That I would be saying ‘yes’ more often, and ‘no’ much less.

But as I’ve travelled this road I’ve come to realise that there’s still so far to go. I might be in this hazy half-life place for a while yet.

So, I’ve gotten smarter.

Now I make plans EXPECTING to be tired. I create my business around what I can do on a bad day, or an average week, rather than what I might be able to do if I had a sudden upsurge in energy or was miraculously well again. I plan socialising around my best times (mornings), or for early nights.

I am planning my whole future around having a flat battery.

It’s not pessimistic. I fully intend to get back to well. Or as well as it is possible to be, for me. But oh how it takes the pressure off, knowing that I am catering for low energy, or sudden patches of incapacity.

Anyway, my heart is on the way to being completely normal, and I have my brain back. There is no longer an imminent threat of dying. I can write and think and dream again. And I’ve always been able to do psychic work – no matter how ill I’ve been. That’s a gift that comes through me, and it’s never influenced by my health. In fact, it has often been the thing which has energised me and kept me going during my darker days. So, planning is possible. As long as my plans make space for down-time, disaster and the unexpected.

I even changed my whole business model, so that I can run an ever-expanding enterprise from bed, on a few average health days a week. Imagine how much lovely free time that will give me as I move back towards well. Imagine how much writing I will be able to get done. How much living. That’s exciting for me!

Maybe you don’t have lyme, or some other kind of incapacitating situation in your life, but I can guarantee you that making plans based on reduced energy and reduced input isn’t a bad thing. Instead it’s a plan for life that makes room for life. It’s about designing a life where there is space for you to grow, to heal, to love, to change your mind, to move in new directions, to spend the afternoon napping, or with your lover, or catching a series of perfect waves.

I’m all for planning. Planning moves us purposefully in a direction of our choosing. It enables us to be effective with the use of our time and resources. It helps us to actively design our lives.

But I am also for living honestly, and being realistic about what’s on our plates. I am also for being kind to ourselves. I am all for making room to breathe rather than heaping responsibility, duty and endless tasks upon us.

What kind of plans have you made in your life?

Have you crammed so much in that there is no room for downtime, rest or fun?

Lyme has proved to be a wise teacher for me. I hope that by sharing my story, it also helps you to be kinder to yourself, to be more trusting of the process of life, to focus on your most important priorities and still leave space.

All sorts of miracles and wonderments can happen when we leave enough space for them. It’s not up to us to have to fill in all the blanks. Where would be the magic in that?

Much love to you, Nicole xx

Life-is-a-miracle

 

Night Flying and Cups of Tea

“Once you have tasted flight, you will forever walk the earth with your eyes turned skyward, for there you have been, and there you will always long to return.”  ~ Leonardo da Vinci

 

The next installment of my Kimberley story…

Do you know what it’s like to sit in a bush kitchen with a barefoot old aboriginal lady in a faded pink dress – a lady you’ve never met, but who you’ve dreamed about in vivid detail?

It’s a spin out. It’s a crazy feeling that makes you feel tissue-paper thin, like if you breathe too deeply you’ll just bust yourself to pieces and drift away on the wind.

The day that Auntie turned up at the remote outback cattle station I called home, my life changed forever.

While the aboriginal stockman and his brother made a fire to cook the big fresh mudcrabs they had brought, Auntie and I sat down together and drank strong, sweet tea. Mug after mug, pot after pot. At first she didn’t say anything much, just drank her tea and ate the cake I had put out on a plate for her. Then she asked about my family, and where I had grown up. What about my parents? My grandparents? She wanted to know what my ‘country’ was like. And where had my people (family) come from when they all came to Australia in the boats, back in the old days?

We sat on chairs under a tree by the river, not far from the fire, and in view of the main staff dining room. The afternoon shadows drew long, and soon the stockmen and station-hands began to gather for their evening meal. My partner at the time came to see if I was coming in for dinner. Things were strained between us so he didn’t linger when I said I was staying outside to talk with Auntie.

crab I was almost beginning to think I had imagined the whole flying-through-the-night-sky-holding-Auntie’s-hand thing when she said, “So, girlie, you like our night-time trip?”

My cheeks flamed with embarrassment. What could I say? Would speaking about it make it more real, or less? What if some of the staff heard what we were talking about? Not sure what to do, I smiled.

“Your grandmother, your women-folk, they tell you about dis thing? They take you in the sky?”

“No.” My voice was small, hesitant. It didn’t sound like my own. It was as if I was brimful of tears and if I opened my mouth any wider or said anything else I would dissolve into a puddle of salt water.

Auntie sighed and patted my hand. “No one help you with dis thing? No one get you ready?” She seemed puzzled, perhaps even a little sad. She sighed again and shuffled her feet in the dirt.

The sky filled up with stars.

When the crab was ready we feasted together in companionable silence. The two men stayed by the fire, drinking beer and eating. Others joined them but Auntie and I stayed where we were, under the tree. P1010139 My partner came out of the dining room, and called to me, “You coming, Nic?”

I shook my head and he trudged off. I felt guilty, and part of me wanted to run after him, but the rest of me was glued to the spot.

“Dat your fella?” Auntie asked, inclining her head.

I nodded.

She shook her head, her mouth a grim line. “Dat all finish. You be dat ting, it all finish.” She made a wiping motion with her hands and a clicking noise with her tongue. Her face became very serious. “Finish. Understand?”

In my heart I did.

If I kept sitting here, I was making a choice. She was giving me a choice.

I was so far from home, so far from everything that had shaped me or made my life make sense. Out here I was drowning in loneliness, so far from fitting in, so far from everything familiar. Out here I was someone else. I was something else. And I couldn’t seem to make it stop. I didn’t want to make it stop.

The stockman came over with his big yellow torch, In his other hand he held a flask of tea, and an unopened packet of sweet biscuits. He looked at Auntie, but didn’t say anything. It still seemed as if they were having a conversation, the air thick with their thoughts.

She wiped her hands on her dress and stood up. “You come up country, okay? Come sit with me at my place. We got plenty to talk about.”

I stayed sitting on the plastic chair, my hands gripping the sides tightly, as if I might fall off if I didn’t hang on. I made my choice. “Okay,” I said. “I’ll come visit you.” I had no idea what I was agreeing to. It felt bold and reckless and a little bit stupid. I felt drunk with the fullness of what I’d just done.

“Good,” said Auntie. “But I see you first. Take you flying some more. Show you some things.” She chuckled, and cradled my face in her hands. “You got the stories in you. Plenty stories. Old stories. Dat’s your magic.”

She pinched my cheek, hard enough that it stung. “Gonna make big-time magic, girlie. You dat ting.” Auntie said it happily, smiling so that her whole face lit up, and she tapped me hard on the breast bone as she said it, just above my heart.

 

All of a sudden my heart was racing. I felt a wild heat coursing through my body. It looked like the night was lit up with sparks. There was no way I could stand up.

“Don’t go walkin’ in the night-time alone with dem owls, okay?” Auntie said sternly as she left.

“Okay.” I didn’t know what else to say. Something big had just happened and I didn’t even know what it was, but I felt it, right down to my bones.

And those big old owls, they just kept watching…

How Synchronicity Happens

“I do believe in an everyday sort of magic — the inexplicable connectedness we sometimes experience with places, people, works of art and the like; the eerie appropriateness of moments of synchronicity; the whispered voice, the hidden presence, when we think we’re alone.” 
~ Charles de Lint

Have you ever wondered how synchronicity happens? It’s a wonderfully magical concurrence of events that leads to an opportunity, a ‘chance’ meeting, a lining up of the stars in some way advantageous to you.

I was at the opposite end of one of these events recently. Let me explain…

Our usual pattern in the mornings here at our farm (when I am well enough) is that I wake up early, meditate, blog, feed the animals and then my husband and I head off to a favourite cafe for some writing time. We’re usually in and out of Byron Bay or Bangalow well before the tourists are even on the march.

But last Friday that didn’t happen. I felt quite average (after a horrible couple of days) and so we stuffed around at home doing one thing or another, and didn’t leave early. In fact we almost didn’t go at all, until Ben decided that a little outing would do me good.

Then we quite spontaneously drove in the opposite direction to price hay for our wiener calves, after which we headed back into Bangalow for a cuppa and some writing.

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We’d totally forgotten that it was a) Friday and b) school holidays. By this time it was mid-morning and town was packed. We were almost about to go home when a parking spot opened up miraculously in front of us. Happily we pulled in and then crossed the road to a local haunt.

A girlfriend we haven’t seen for months waylaid us outside the cafe for a chat. People stopped to admire Harry and to pat him. It took ages just to get to a table.

We ended up getting next to no writing done, but had a lovely social time. Then Ben decided on the spur of the moment to go to the Post Office, and I got the idea in my head that I might as well go to the butcher to get some soup bones. By now it was lunch-time, and the main street of Bangalow was thick with people.

“Nicole Cody?” I heard someone say. “I just knew I’d run into you today!”

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The face behind the big dark glasses looked familiar, but I was having a bad day, and I struggled for a moment to place her except for her name; Karen.

She’s a beautiful client of mine who used to live here in Australia, but who’s now relocated to the United States. She was down in our part of the world for a few days and decided to come to Bangalow for a look, hoping to run into me.

And I can tell you that on a Friday at lunchtime in school holidays the likelihood of that should have been totally negligible. And yet here we were, in perfect synchronicity – exchanging hugs and happily catching up.

I felt like I’d been pushed around a giant chess board to position me in the street in front of the butcher just for her. And I didn’t mind a bit! 🙂

The Universe has a magic to it – not to be understood by the head, but known by the heart.  Trust in that! Who can say what magic awaits you?

Much love to you, ♥ Nicole xx

I am open to the guidance of synchronicity and do not let expectations hinder my path

Out in the wilderness…

Image from www.walls.com

Image from www.walls.com

“Funny how “question” contains the word “quest” inside it, as though any small question asked is a journey through briars.” 
~ Catherynne M. Valente, Under in the Mere

“Say it, reader. Say the word ‘quest’ out loud. It is an extraordinary word, isn’t it? So small and yet so full of wonder, so full of hope.” 
~ Kate DiCamillo, The Tale of Despereaux

My Kimberley story, continued…

I would like to say that I was happy, out there in the wild vast spaces of the Kimberley.

But that would not be true.

Life settled into a routine of sorts.  Waking early, I would go for a walk before the heat of the day, dog following at my heels. Breakfast and then over to the office and a mountain of paperwork and management tasks. Sometimes I ventured to other parts of the property, sometimes I met the planes or helicopters as they came in to the station, sometimes I travelled into town. But no matter where I was, I was lonely.

Worse than lonely.

Miserably yearning for something, although I couldn’t tell you what.

Each night I sat by the campfire and waited for the owls, or if the moon was bright I went for a walk to count shooting stars. Sometimes I felt an owl follow me as I walked.

One evening after dinner, as I was walking back to the campfire, the aboriginal stockman  fell in beside me.  He always carried a big torch when he went anywhere at night-time, even if it was between the lit buildings.

“You. Why you go walkin’ off in da night-time?”

“I like to see the stars,” I said.  “And I talk to the owl that follows me.”

He stopped suddenly and shook his head, making a disapproving clucking noise with his tongue. “Don’t you goin’ walkabout in da night-time no more. No good, all alone. No good in dat darkness.”

I shrugged my shoulders.

“Dat owl talk back to you?” he asked seriously.

“Not yet,” I answered.

“Hmmmph,” he said, and walked off crankily.

The next morning there was a big old torch and a spare battery outside my door.  I knew it was for me.

After that, the stockman became a little more friendly.  One night as we were leaving the fire, he asked me how many owls I saw. I told him five. He rubbed his hand across his jaw as though he was thinking.  “Okay,” he said, and then he just walked off.

road-trip-1

Two days later he came to my office, and stood awkwardly at the door, balancing on first one skinny leg and then the other until I looked up from my work. “My brudda,” he said. “He gonna come visit tomorrow. You be here?”

I couldn’t understand how he would know that, unless he’d made a prior arrangement with his brother.  The stockman never used the payphone, and he never got any mail.

“Are you sure?” I said stupidly.

“Mm humph,” he grunted, and then he tapped his long bony finger against his temple. “My brudda talk to me in here.  He bring you tree (he held up three fingers) fine mudcrab. He gonna bring Auntie. You better be here.”

I didn’t understand, so I just smiled.

That night I didn’t go out to the campfire.  I went for a short walk, and then retired early to bed. All night my dreams were crazy, but one in particular stood out. An old, fat aboriginal lady with a jolly face and wearing a faded pink dress, took me flying through the night sky.  She held my hand and we effortlessly glided above the sleeping landscape.  I could hear the thoughts and the dreams of the people and the animals below.  The air around us was silvery and slippery somehow. And I don’t remember how I came home, but I woke up in my bed the next morning almost convinced it had been real.

That afternoon a rusty old truck rattled up though the riverbed and into the station. The aboriginal stockman stood in the middle of the road, just outside my office, waiting for them.

It was his brother, who had driven down from Wyndham to visit him.  I was introduced to the brother, and then an old lady climbed down from the cab of the truck.  She was barefoot, wearing a faded pink dress, and she was plump and jolly.

“Hey girlie,” she said to me in a raspy, strong voice. “I know you.”

I felt weak, like my legs would go from under me.  It was the lady from my flying dream.

She came over and put her warm hand on my face, looking deep into my eyes.  “I know you,” she said again.

“Hmmph,” said the stockman. “I told you.  She dat ting.”

I felt like I was hollow, like I was being sucked into another time and space. I could hardly breathe. It was shocking, although I can’t tell you why. This bare-footed, jolly old woman had such authority.

“I need a cuppa tea,” she told me.  “And my boy, he bring you three fine mud crab. In that esky,” she gestured to the stockman. “Betta cook him up while dem fellas still fresh.”

She patted my arm kindly. “Tea,” she repeated. “We need us some tea.”

Dream Quest by Robert Donaghy

Dream Quest by Robert Donaghey

The Lady Who Walked Out of My Past

“I sustain myself with the love of family.” 
~ Maya Angelou

One late afternoon in April this year, the dusky sunset was shimmery and luminous.  A light rain fell, misting the cold air and making us hurry to light a fire and get inside where it was warm.

That evening the moon rose brightly amid patchy clouds, but the light stayed this eery silvery-blue colour.  All night I was covered in goosebumps, and the dogs were watchful and alert.  The owls came and sat in the trees and on the fences around our little farmhouse, and I wondered what might be afoot.

Whenever owls arrive, things seem to happen.  And our farm seems densely habited by owls. I’ve been being visited by owls since I was a girl.  Significant things have happened when owls have turned up in my life.  Owls heralded a massive leap in my psychic abilities when I was living in the Kimberley.  The night after my grandmother (my mother’s mother) died, an owl arrived in the tree outside my window and stayed there watching me for three days.

A year ago I found an owl feather and wove it into a Dream Catcher to place above my bed. And shortly after that the Orchard Man showed up.

At first I saw him from a distance, in broad daylight, standing on a ladder trimming the fruit trees in our orchard.  When I went to investigate there was no-one there.

Another time he walked past me holding a galvanised bucket and heading in the direction of our old dairy bales.  The dogs saw him too. But by now I had realised that he wasn’t ‘real’.  I wondered if he was a ghost, or a soul caught between dimensions.  I wasn’t really sure, and I never seemed to be able to get close enough to ask him.

Then, on this April night the Orchard Man was back, swinging his lantern around in the cold. Once again he headed up to the Orchard, and I lost sight of him amidst the trees.

I found it hard to sleep that night.  I was herxing badly from my lyme drugs – all achy and itchy and out of sorts. I lay in bed, tossing and turning, long after my husband had surrendered to sleep. At some stage I must have dozed off and when I woke again the bedroom was filled with a strange silvery-blue light.  A lady stood at the foot of my bed.  I instantly recognised her.  She was the spirit lady who’d visited and comforted my little sister when Simone was so ill as a child.

Image from www.favim.com

Image from www.favim.com

Her name is Alice, and she’s from my ancestral line on my mother’s side. She’s come into my life because it’s time.  Time for me to keep a promise I made many lifetimes ago. A promise tied up with owls and fairies and family. A promise that has run through generation after generation of bloodlines.

So who is the Orchard Man? He isn’t here for me.  He’s here for Alice. He loved her once, and lost her, before they could be married. Ever since that life he’s been looking for her, waiting to meet up with her again.

He found her through the owls.  He found her through me.  He knew she’d come to find me, and so he waited for her in the orchard.  He’s looked for her, waited for her, through time and space. Now, after patient toiling, that April night he found her, as he knew he would. He saw her. She felt him. But she came for me.

Image by Jeff Carter

Image by Jeff Carter

I know that they will meet again.  I know that while I am here at this farm I have given them a window where they can be together.

Me? I feel the energy of my family stretching out across the generations and wrapping me in its love. I feel the weight of a great responsibility.  I feel the sparkle of a profound magic.

I see the owls.

There are so many stories in me.  And now is the time for them to be told…