How You Shape My Morning

“Never believe that a few caring people can’t change the world. For, indeed, that’s all who ever have.” ~ Margaret Mead

Good morning, Lovelies!

It’s just after 5am. I am here at my desk, about to begin writing my blog, and I thought today I would share how you shape my morning routine.

I was awake a little before 4am, as I always am, to meditate. Right now I am meditating twice a day for the students who recently attended my ‘Connect to Your Calling’ Retreat. I check in on each of them energetically and work on them as they need it. Then I tune in to you. I offer up my prayers for you and your families. I send you love and healing, I hold the intent for you that you know yourself, care for yourself and are able to express your unique personality and gifts in the world. I send love and light and peace to situations, places, people and leaders. And finally, I ask how I can best serve you today which is usually how I come up with whatever I will write in my blog.

My husband is still sleeping. My dogs are asleep. The world is quiet. It’s just me, holding space for you. This is my sacred time. The time where I can reach out to you, or make a positive difference in your life somehow.

I know some of us have never met, in person anyway. But you matter to me. Caring for you shapes my day. You see, when I was younger and very ill I felt so alone. I had no energy for friendships or connection. My first marriage had recently failed. I was completely broke and broken. Each day was a struggle. I felt that if I were to die no-one would even notice. I was socially and emotionally isolated.

Then one day I went into a tiny shop in Brisbane that sold items from Tibet. It became somewhere I hung out at whenever I had the energy. I bought my first singing bowl, and a Buddhist monk taught me some Tibetan meditation techniques using the singing bowl and a mala, and gifted me some mala beads. One day a new group of monks from Tibet arrived and through a translator I learned that they meditated for their community and the world every day. Each of them worked to support different groups of people, and in that moment I understood that somewhere in the world were people I had never met who were including me in their prayers, thoughts and meditations, with the sole intent that they somehow provide comfort or support to me. They explained to me that many monks and nuns from different faiths did this kind of work, and that this work of holding space for people was something I could do too. This was something I had also been shown by my Aboriginal Aunties.

The monks helped me to establish my own meditation practice for serving others, and I have done that in my morning and evening meditations ever since.

Often I have woken in the night because of my connection with you. Perhaps I will hold you in my thoughts and send you love and energy. Sometimes I will get out of bed and contact you directly by message or phone, or I will see that you have reached out to me or have posted publicly about a problem and I will respond. I see that as part of my life, a life where we are all connected even if we have not ever met in person.

This morning I need you to know that in this tiny corner of the world is a woman whose first thought each morning is you. That the prayers I offer, the meditation I do, the incense I light is for you. Know that there are many others who hold that prayerful and loving space for you too. Our humanity unites us, our love and service binds us. Tune in and feel those waves of energy, those ripples of love that are always there for you. You are truly loved. You matter.

So, that is how you shape my morning.

I’m going to make a cup of tea now, and write in my journal. Then the day will unfold and off I’ll go to meet it.

But tonight in my meditation, and tomorrow morning, I will be with you.

All my love, Nicole ❤ xx

The Glorious Journey of Our Love Mala

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“The best teachers have showed me that things have to be done bit by bit. Nothing that means anything happens quickly–we only think it does. The motion of drawing back a bow and sending an arrow straight into a target takes only a split second, but it is a skill many years in the making. So it is with a life, anyone’s life. I may list things that might be described as my accomplishments in these few pages, but they are only shadows of the larger truth, fragments separated from the whole cycle of becoming. And if I can tell an old-time story now about a man who is walking about, waudjoset ndatlokugan, a forest lodge man, alesakamigwi udlagwedewugan, it is because I spent many years walking about myself, listening to voices that came not just from the people but from animals and trees and stones.”
~ Joseph Bruchac


Do you remember, back in February, when I decided to make a mala, and to pray every bead twice a day for a month? The idea came to me because my friend Liz was going through a difficult time, and I wanted to find a practical way to support her. My first bead – a pearl – I marked for her, and then I chose a bead for 106 other people, and the 108th as a bead to represent everyone not specifically mentioned in the previous beads. The keeper bead, at the beginning and end of the mala, is the stone I kept for myself.

My intention for that thirty days was to use my meditation and prayers to aid in your emotional support and healing. I strung each bead onto the mala with an intent for you to know forgiveness and self-love, for ending guilt, regret, fear and shame and embracing love and flow and abundance.

Each day I held every bead, one at a time between my fingers, and prayed my mantras and then a specific prayer for each bead – each person. I wore the mala every day, all day, so that I carried you with me. Soon my fingers knew each bead by name. This one Wendy, this one Jess, Jacob, Holly, David, Satisha, Kim, PJ, Joanne…

Each night when I finished my meditation I lay the mala on a large quartz and green tourmaline cluster beside my bed. Each morning my fingers reached out in the dark, found the mala, and my prayers and meditations began again. After which the mala was placed over my head so that I could wear it all day.

The very first day I wore the mala I took you all out for breakfast at a favourite cafe near my farm. Later we swam in the ocean. The water was so clear that I could see tiny fish darting above the sand below my feet. A stingray shuffled past. A dolphin greeted us from a rolling wave.

Over the next thirty days this mala came with me as I swam in rivers, watched koalas in the eucalypts, walked rainforests and paddocks, visited farmers markets and dined with friends. I felt that you were with me on every step of my daily life. You came to coffee shops to sit and write with me and my friends, you came to conferences and dinners and even to a theme park where I took you on a crazy ride and then ran in the rain. You’ve been hugged, and you’ve enjoyed laughter and quiet times. You’ve been held during the day when I sensed you needed extra support. You’ve had all kinds of weather, and you even came dancing with me at Bluesfest.

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Finally on Good Friday I took the mala off and laid it on the earth here at my farm, under the shade of the magnolia tree that Sokli, my fairy friend, so loves. I placed a grid of stones around the mala. A stone given to me by my Aboriginal Auntie, a citrine point, a selenite fish-tail, and a rose quartz. In the centre of the grid I placed a large phantom smoky quartz. All of these stones gave energy to the mala as it rested on the earth during the lunar eclipse and Blood Moon on Easter Saturday.

On Friday I shall gather the beads up from the earth and begin the process of unstringing the mala and passing beads on to those people who want them now that my prayer cycle is complete.

The bead that stood for everyone? I am going to string another mala using that bead and then give it away to one of my readers. Stay tuned to find out more details once that new meditation mala is complete.

I’ll begin another Love Mala soon to pray for a group of you for thirty days. Theme as yet to be decided. I promise to update you when I start allocating the next group of names to these beads.

It has been an honour and a privilege to carry you with me. I hope you feel the love and care in these stones, and know how much you mean to me. (((HUGS))) Nicole <3 xoxo

Image from rambling

Image from rambling

An Extra Healing Meditation

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“No one is useless in this world who lightens the burdens of another.”
~ Charles Dickens


Tonight I’m performing a special two-hour healing meditation, using the Love Mala I made earlier in the month.

The purpose of tonight’s meditation is to help in the release of patterns of thought and behaviour that have limited us and kept us small or wounded. It is also to open us up to our fuller potential, and the ability to recognise and work with our own gifts with ease and grace.

You may already have a bead on this mala, or be included under the ‘everyone’ bead, but I’d also like to extend that offer that if you would like me to send specific healing to you or someone who you love, that you leave a message for me below, or pop over to my facebook page and leave a message there.

If you’d like to join me in meditation, I’ll be in that space between 8pm and 11pm Brisbane time tonight – 21 March. Feel free to join me for all or part of that time (I know, it’s a long time if you’re not in practice).

If you want to receive some of that healing energy and prayer, there is nothing specific you need to do, but I also encourage you to sit or lay quietly for part of that time, close your eyes, soften your body, and then just be in a space of allowing. Let yourself be open to any feelings, images or sensations that come.

And, of course, feel free to give me any feedback afterwards.

Much, much love to you in these exciting times,

Nicole xx


Sometimes Life Gets In the Way of Blogging

Image from

Image from

“The easiest way to get touch with this universal power is through silent Prayer. Shut your eyes, shut your mouth, and open your heart. This is the golden rule of prayer. Prayer should be soundless words coming forth from the centre of your heart filled with love.”
~ Amit Ray, Om Chanting and Meditation


I’m late blogging today.

The Aunt of one of my close friends is in hospital. She had surgery last night, and is in ICU in a critical condition this morning.

When I heard the news last night, I retired early. I prayed my mala for all of you, and then I sat in meditation and prayer for my friend’s aunt for three hours.

Again, this morning, I repeated the process.

Last night I could barely feel this woman’s life force. By the end of my meditation I could feel her energy, but weak, like a flickering candle flame. Her surgeons and medical team did an incredible job. I do believe they saved her life.

This morning her energy is still weak, but underlying that weakness is determination.

Life force is an astonishing thing. It dwells so strongly in us all.

And underpinning that life force, always, is love.

A love so vast, so beautiful and inclusive, that it renders me speechless with awe.

Know that you are in my thoughts and prayers today.

Be gentle with yourself and others. Choose kindness.

Bless xx


It’s Finished – Our Mala of Love

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“Be not forgetful of prayer. Every time you pray, if your prayer is sincere, there will be new feeling and new meaning in it, which will give you fresh courage, and you will understand that prayer is an education.”
~ Fyodor Dostoyevsky, The Brothers Karamazov

“It does not matter how long you are spending on the earth, how much money you have gathered or how much attention you have received. It is the amount of positive vibration you have radiated in life that matters.”
~ Amit Ray


Well, my lovelies, it is meditation time and I am about to begin prayers and affirmations on my new mala. Many of you are represented personally here in the beads that will move between my fingers this morning. All of you are represented on the last bead, which you’ll see above is the teardrop-shaped clear quartz before the crackle quartz Keeper Stone. There are crystal beads chosen for their energies, and wood, glass and ceramic beads chosen for their colour or symbolism. Every bead has been chosen with love and careful intent.

I’ll be praying this mala twice a day for the next thirty days. Already I have prayed and blessed each bead as I named it and strung it. Already I can say, yes, this pearl is Liz, this banded agate is PJ, this celestite is Jacob, this owl is Joanne.

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My intention for the next thirty days is to use my meditation and prayers to aid in our emotional healing, and that will be my theme in my twice-daily meditations. This is a mala for forgiveness and self-love, for ending guilt, regret, fear and shame and embracing love and flow and abundance.

Each day I’ll hold every bead, one at a time, between my fingers and pray my mantras and then a specific prayer for each bead – each person. I’ll wear this mala every day, all day, so that I carry you with me.

Today, know that I am holding you in my thoughts and prayers. That I am carrying you in my arms. That you are very much loved.

Nicole xx

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A Busy Night

“When the world is itself draped in the mantle of night, the mirror of the mind is like the sky in which thoughts twinkle like stars.”
~ Khushwant Singh, Delhi


It’s a short blog today. Sorry. I was up most of last night talking with a client whose daughter was involved in a horrendous unfolding drama. She’s safe now. But it was a hard day for them.

After which I chatted to a friend who was up in the middle of the night, drinking coffee, cleaning and reading poetry because her heart was breaking and she felt all alone, even as her children slept safely beneath her roof.

Life is so beautiful, even amid the suffering and pain.

I stepped outside last night, before I finally went to bed to claim a few hours sleep.

The night sky was filled with stars.

The air was soft, and fragrant with blossoms after the recent rain.

Remember to breathe today. Take a moment to fill yourself with beauty. And with hope.

All is well.

There is so much goodness surrounding us.

Remember that.

Live that.

Be part of that goodness today.

Spread that positive hope-filled energy and love into our world.

Bless xx


No Angels Wear Pink Pyjamas

Image from Chakra Centre

Image from Chakra Centre

“I do believe we’re all connected. I do believe in positive energy. I do believe in the power of prayer. I do believe in putting good out into the world. And I believe in taking care of each other.”Harvey Fierstein


Yesterday I went to a favourite cafe in New Farm. It’s the first time I’ve driven myself to a cafe in over a year, and I was really looking forward to the opportunity to sit on my own in a quiet corner, writing and enjoying a good coffee.

I arrived very early, just after six, put in my order and got to work. While I wrote, completely absorbed in my story, the place filled up. It was a typical wintery raining morning in Brisbane, and there were couples, family groups and lycra-clad cyclists at all the outdoor tables.

After a while I had a strange feeling, and realised that a man a few tables over, sitting with a small group of his friends, kept staring at me. If I looked up he looked away, but as soon as I returned to my laptop he was staring again. It made me feel quite uncomfortable.

Eventually I caught his eye, and we just held each other’s gaze for a minute or so. I had a sensation of the most intense recognition, Now I was sure that I knew him, but I couldn’t place him at all. I smiled, mentally wished him well and sent him some love and went back to my writing.

As I was getting into my car an hour later, a young woman came over to me.

“Excuse me,” she said. “Can I talk to you for a moment?” She was nervously screwing the edge of her jacket between her hands.

“Sure,” I said, throwing my bag into the car.

“My boyfriend thinks he knows you,” she said, her words tumbling out in a hurry.

“The one from the coffee shop?” I asked. She had been sitting with her back to me, so I’d never seen her face.

“Yes, the coffee shop and from the Highway…” She said it like a challenge.

And then I knew. Slowly I sank down onto the driver’s seat of my car. “The man on the motorcycle,” I whispered.

Brisbane is a small place. If you lived here you’d know that we’re always joking about how the rest of the world may enjoy seven degrees of separation or connection, but in Brisbane it’s only two.

Last year, very very early, Ben and I were heading back to our farm at Possum Creek, about two hours drive from Brisbane. It was about 4am, rainy, and I was incredibly ill from my Lyme drugs. That’s why we had decided to drive home at such an hour. After some sleep, and before my next round of meds I was hoping that it would be a vomit-free trip.

Image from Transgrediendo

Image from Transgrediendo

We’d only just entered the Highway when a motorbike screamed past us on the empty road, going so fast it made it look like we were standing still. I was overcome with the blackest of dreads.

“Slow down! Slow down!” I screamed. I wasn’t sure who I was even talking to, my husband or the bike.

My husband slowed the car, and put his hand on my leg. “Are you okay? Are you going to be sick?” he asked, his voice filled with concern.

I couldn’t even speak, I was so upset, but I shook my head to indicate that I was okay. We drove on for less than ten minutes and then the traffic came to a stop. There had been an accident. It was the bike, as I’d known it would be. Debris was strewn across the road. A solitary motorbike helmet sat in the middle of a lane like someone had casually placed it there. The traffic banked up behind us.

An ambulance was already there. More arrived. Police cars came. I was trembling with shock. To calm myself I closed my eyes and went into meditation.

And there I saw it all, as though I was looking down on the accident from above.

“That’s my friend,” said a man beside me. He was wearing a motorbike jacket. “Can you help him?”

His friend was on the ground, badly injured. Ambulance crews were bent over him, trying to get him stable, trying to stop the bleeding. His leg was hanging by sinew and denim. He was distressed and awake.

I poured my love into the man on the ground. I called on God. I asked all of the Angels, Guides and Ancestors to help him and to hold him safe. I prayed for the paramedics, who were fighting so hard for this man. I asked for the best outcome for all.

Image from tumblr

Image from tumblr

Eventually the ambulances left, and the police and fire crews cleared a lane so that the traffic could creep past. The sun hadn’t even come up yet.

The twisted remains of the bike had been pushed against a concrete wall. The car involved had already been towed away.

I cried.

When we got home to the farm I couldn’t stop thinking about the accident. I searched the online news and police reports, but found only the briefest mentions. In the end I lit a candle for all involved, and included them in my daily prayers and meditations.

“My boyfriend is sure that you’re an Angel,” the young woman said, bringing me out of the past and back to the carpark. “He says you came to him in the accident, and you were wearing pyjamas.”

I had been wearing pyjamas that morning. Pink pirate pyjamas and fluffy purple socks.

“It’s because of you that he believes in God now,” she said. “He comes to church with his mother and me.”

“I’m no Angel,” I said, trying to smile, deeply embarrassed at what she’d said. “What Angel would wear pyjamas? I’m just a person. I am a meditator, and when the accident happened I was in a car nearby, and so I prayed for him, and sent him love and light in my meditation. That’s all.”

“It’s been a terrible time,” said the girlfriend. “He lost his leg you know, but the worst thing is the guilt. He’s been so depressed about his friend.”

Now I understood. The man in the jacket who asked me to help his friend that day had been riding pillion. He’d been in the accident too. “I’m so sorry, for you and all your family,” I said.

The girl nodded, tears rolling down her face.

“Hey,” a voice behind her said. It was the man who’d been staring at me. It was the man from the crash.

I extended my hand and shook his, and we introduced ourselves. And then I stood up and gave him a hug. He was thin and frail under my arms. I could feel how tenuous his will to live still was.

“This is your second chance,” I whispered in his ear. “Make it count. Make it count for you, and for your friend. You’re still here for a reason.”

He cried. I cried. We hugged again. And then we said goodbye and I came home to my little house in Brisbane, pulled myself together and began a day of psychic readings for clients.

Truly, there is no such thing as an Angel in Pink Pyjamas, but I do believe that we are all connected, and that with our thoughts, intentions , love and prayers we can make a difference.

In our hearts we are all one. Let’s help each other wherever we can.


Talking With Dead People

Ghost by mcnealy

Ghost by McNealy

“Now I know what a ghost is. Unfinished business, that’s what.” 
~ Salman Rushdie, The Satanic Verses

One of the first things I always tell new psychic clients (besides that I don’t do predictions, lotto numbers and other wishful, unempowering stuff – which my clients are all wised up on beforehand anyway) is that I don’t do past lives or dead people.

It’s not that I don’t believe in them. I do. In fact BELIEVE isn’t even the right word. They exist. Just like trees, the sun, the air we breathe. I often find past lives fascinating, but don’t tend to work with past lives because my focus is on helping you make the best of THIS lifetime.

Read more about a past life experience I worked with here – The Baby Who Needed to Speak

And dead people?

‘Dead people’ fall into two categories for me. There’s the deceased souls who are happily ensconced energetically in where ever that place is that we go after we cease existing here in the physical. Ancestors, dead relatives, friends. These are the souls that mediums often work with. Sometimes they come through for me, but it’s not work I seek. Just because we die doesn’t make us all seeing and all knowing. Dear old Aunt Martha may not be the best person to be advising you on your current career and life issues. I have other sources to draw on!

Then there’s the other category of ‘dead people’. These are the souls I call the ‘transitioning dead’. They are no longer in physical bodies, but for some reason they haven’t moved permanently into that peaceful place souls go when we repose between lives. There are many reasons for souls to be in that transitory place, and one of them is unfinished business. They feel that they can’t depart until certain things have been done or understood, by themselves or by people that they love.

Image by Neha Gupta

Image from Neha Gupta

Right now I have a transitioning Soul hanging out in my space. Not usually something I’d do. But I know they are taking comfort from being near me – a bit like finding a calm, safe place to anchor your boat and rest after weeks of stormy seas.

This person first turned up, the night before last, in my lounge room. I could see them suddenly materialise in front of me as I was (and now I must confess…) watching a Star Trek DVD. My dogs saw this person too. And there was this subtle pervasive smell (not unpleasant) that hasn’t left since.

My husband knew something was up. Both of us had goosebumps, and he said the colour drained from my face. I felt that too. It was quite a shock.

As I was watching this dead person appear in front of me Ben quietly turned off the TV and sat in the corner, calming the dogs, while I did my thing.

I’ve never met this person before. But a friend asked me if I could help one of their friends who’d lost someone they loved. And an hour before I’d done a healing meditation and offered up a prayer for those involved.

So, here I am. Dead person and me.

We’ve had several conversations in the past twenty-four hours. I’m learning a lot. About a lot of things. I’m taking the unusual step of holding this person in my space until they’ve finished what they need to do to allow them to transition.

Two things stand out for me, that I thought you might benefit from knowing.

The first is that this dead person’s mum has prayed for them, regularly and often, and the dead person says that they have felt every one of those prayers and the prayers have helped them come to a good place in themselves and to be calm and resolved.

The second is that the dead person was sure there would be a ‘hell’, and to their surprise, death is nothing like they’d feared or expected. ‘Hell’, they tell me, is our own thoughts and emotions, but outside that is only love. And this person’s mum, praying daily for their dead child, has helped for that connection back to love to happen.

That’s why this soul is still here now. And that’s why I’m helping them. Because it’s all about love. It’s always all about love.

If you’d like to read more about the enduring nature of love between the living and those who have passed over you might like these posts:

Alice’s Lifelong Invisible Friend

Smoke Alarms and Lost Souls

The Power of a Father’s Love

Image from Myspace Things

Image from Myspace Things

Premonitions, Traffic Jams and Prayers

Image by David Kapernick – The Sunday Mail

Recently I was driving from my farm back to Brisbane, a two hour drive – mostly along a highway – so that I could begin a stretch of work.

The trip started well.  I made good time, it was a beautiful day, and I was enjoying some music, singing along as I drove.  The first hour passed quickly and I began thinking about the next day’s psychic appointments, and the clients I’d be seeing.

But then I started to feel a little nauseous. I began to feel a little anxious.

There was no reason to.  The traffic was flowing freely. The weather was perfect.  I was well rested and stress-free, and it was a beautiful day.

My palms began to sweat.

I was travelling in the far right-hand lane. That’s the faster lane in Australia. Suddenly I began to feel very exposed and unsafe, with the traffic roaring past in the opposite direction just metres from me, separated by a garden bed, and in places a wire rope barrier of sorts.

I felt worse and worse.  That horrible premonition of impending doom. I wondered if I should call my husband, just in case…

But that was silly. There was nothing wrong.

It got to the point where I could no longer stay in that outside lane. I dropped back into a middle lane, and drove more slowly.  Still I couldn’t get that feeling out of my mind, that the traffic on the other side of the road was dangerous – too fast, too close. I began to drive strategically, so that I was shielded from them by a car in the outside lane.

After a while even that didn’t feel any better. I dropped over another lane, so there were two lanes and more cars between me and the oncoming traffic on the other side of the highway. I felt like I was in a war zone, nervously anticipating the next attack.  By now I wasn’t even joking with myself that I might be a bit mental.  Instead I was working very hard to stay calm, and to stay on the road. I felt like I was about to be hit by an oncoming car at any minute.  I could see it and feel it as if it was unfolding in front of me.

Finally the premonition overwhelmed me, and I actually pulled right over to the left and into an emergency stopping bay.  My heart was pounding, and I was close to tears.

I stayed that way for about ten minutes, hands clenched on the steering wheel, unable to drive. Eventually the feeling passed, and I nudged my car back onto the bitumen.

Just around the bend in the road the traffic slowed.  Then it stopped.  I turned on the radio.  Traffic banked up all around me.  A  sea of stationary vehicles. They broadcast a traffic report – just ahead of us a car had left the other side of the highway and crashed through the barrier before plowing into five cars.  It was a very serious accident, and the highway was now closed in both directions.

I shut down my engine.  I called my husband. And then I prayed for all of the people involved in the accident, the emergency services workers who were helping them, and the families and friends who would pick up the pieces.

Image by Chris Higgins – Quest Newspapers

I really believe that my premonition saved my life.  I felt simultaneously guilty and relieved. Guilty, because I was safe.  Relieved, because it hadn’t happened to me.

It was a long, slow trip back to Brisbane, taking nearly five hours. It was agonising to edge past the crash site when they finally opened one lane to traffic again. I could feel the crash, I could feel the panic and the horror and the finality. The feeling didn’t leave me. The people didn’t leave me. That’s what it’s like for me, being psychic.  It’s a blessing, and a raw wound.

But I was safe.  I went back to my home in Brisbane, lit some candles, took out my Tibetan Prayer Bowl, and meditated and prayed until bed.

Me, Nana, Mother Teresa and the Dalai Lama

My beautiful Nana, Joyce Melrose Cody, nee Heppell.

I’ve had a difficult night.  My beloved Nana is dying, and I’m struggling more than I thought I would with this news.  Our birthdays are just around the corner, hers on September 2, mine on September 6. We have always been the September Girls.  Now I wonder if she’ll make it to hers.  I pray her funeral won’t be on mine.

I have never had issue with death – we will all have our time, and I trust in that. But all night I’ve wrestled with two things; the manner of her demise, and that I might not be able to be with her as she slips away.

Nana broke her hip a little while ago, but came through an operation to pin her femur with flying colours, and ended up in rehab, getting ready to come home.  Then something unexpected happened.  She ended up with a bedsore on her heel that became infected and got right into the bone.  And that has essentially been the beginning of the end for her.

The other thing I’m struggling with is that I’ve been at home recovering for the past few weeks after a virus flared up my cardiomyopathy, and I went to hospital with arrythmia.  My cardiologist insisted I stay away from cities, shopping centres and possible sources of further infection until I was back at full strength again.

My Dad rang last night to tell me Nana was going downhill very fast, and that now might be the time to take a trip up to visit her at the hospital, about an hour and a half from my farm, so I could say my goodbyes.

But first I need to find out from my own doctor if he thinks this is a good idea.

All I wanted to do last night when I got the news was get in the car and drive.  It’s still all I want to do this morning.  And I can’t.  I have to be sensible.  I have to manage my risk.  I have to wait to get an answer, and I need to find a way to be okay with it if the answer is no.

That’s where my thoughts turned to Mother Teresa and the Dalai Lama.  In the middle of the night their words sprang into my head, easing my worries, and helping me return from a place of anger and frustration to a place of love and acceptance.

At first I was angry because my Grandmother’s demise has been hastened by neglect in her nursing care. Just because she is elderly did not mean that she deserved lesser care.  I thought of Mother Teresa’s words, and I felt even worse to start with, thinking of my Nana and her situation.

Being unwanted, unloved, uncared for, forgotten by everybody, I think that is a much greater hunger, a much greater poverty than the person who has nothing to eat.
~ Mother Teresa

But that brought me back to thinking about the nurses and doctors at my grandmother’s hospital, and how overworked they are, how understaffed the wards are, and how little support and understanding these people get, when all they are doing is trying to serve us.  They are just as unwanted, unloved and uncared for.

In thinking this I began to find compassion instead of outrage.

And then these words of Mother Teresa’s came to mind:

We ourselves feel that what we are doing is just a drop in the ocean. But the ocean would be less because of that missing drop.
~ Mother Teresa

I realised that no matter what happened, I COULD still do something.  I could pray for my Nana.  I could talk with her in my mind, and I could meditate for her.  I could also flow that energy of healing, love, gratitude and compassion to my Dad and family, and to my Nana’s care-givers at the hospital.  I could talk to my Pa, Nana’s mum – Nana Heppell, and to my Nana’s favourite brother, Bill, who have already crossed over,  asking them to look after her, and to help her at this time.

And then there was the help I felt from the teachings of the Dalai Lama…

Be kind whenever possible. It is always possible.
~ Dalai Lama

Kindness.  In thought and action.  I can do that.  And of course, that includes kindness to myself.  No matter what my doctor tells me, I shall honour that and do my best to be at peace with the decision.  I will respect my own physical needs.

And this…

“Every day, think as you wake up, today I am fortunate to be alive, I have a precious human life, I am not going to waste it. I am going to use all my energies to develop myself, to expand my heart out to others; to achieve enlightenment for the benefit of all beings. I am going to have kind thoughts towards others, I am not going to get angry or think badly about others. I am going to benefit others as much as I can.”
~ Dalai Lama XIV

I will be gentle with myself today and in the days ahead.  I will remind myself often that now, this part of 2012, is a great time for ancestral healing and clearing, and that it is to be expected that family relationships and dynamics will be a large part of my current attention.

No matter what happens, I know that I can meditate, pray and do energetic work for myself and my family. for you and your family, and for families everywhere.

In the end, love and kindness are all that matters, and my Nana has been a shining example of that teaching in my life.  I am Blessed to have had her here for so long, and I know that love endures – we will always be the September Girls. ♥

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