Accidents and Sudden Deaths – My thoughts from a psychic perspective

“Do not stand at my grave and weep.
I am not there, I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow,
I am the diamond glints on snow.

I am the sunlight on ripened grain
I am the gentle autumn rain.

When you awaken in the morning’s hush,
I am that swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the soft star that shines at night.

Do not stand at my grave and cry,
I am not there, I did not die.
~ Autumn Rain – Mary Frye, 1932


This is the next post in my Wednesday series on death and dying.

Many people have asked me what happens to a person if they have a sudden death through accident or illness.

I’ve sat holding the hand of people who’ve been suddenly and gravely injured and who have then passed away.

I’ve also been ‘visited’ psychically by souls whose life has suddenly terminated due to trauma, or I have connected with them through my meditations.

One of the strongest psychic experiences I have ever had was of sitting in my friend’s body and being aware of his thoughts in the hours before and after his death from suicide. Although that remains the most brutal experience I have had, it was also a supreme gift.

This is what I have come to understand…

Death that is sudden is a shock for the soul. We live on, and our capacity for thought and awareness lives on. There is a period after death where the soul must orient themselves to their new circumstances.

This doesn’t always happen the same way.


Some people die in trauma and there is a short period of nothingness – as if someone wiped part of a video. In this way the soul is spared the traumatic memories. There will be no trauma to process even if the circumstances of death were difficult. Sometimes the soul abandons the mortally injured body before death takes place. There is no suffering. Life just stops. In every instance the newly liberated soul is met and guided by loved ones who help to move the soul to a place of love and comfort. Later the soul may revisit their body or the scene of their death, but by then they will have disconnected from their life to an extent that the revisiting adds no trauma, only understanding and closure for the life they have just lived.

Some people die, and don’t immediately realise that they are dead. They may look down on themselves and be completely disoriented and confused. There is no physical pain. I liken this situation to when you awaken from a dream and are not sure where you are for a moment. Then gradually understanding comes as you orient yourself to the room you are in. This may take minutes or hours. There is never a situation of being trapped in the body, or trapped on earth. Instead there is a period of readjustment before the soul accepts their death and moves to wherever it is we go after this current life journey is complete. And wherever that is, it is ALWAYS a return to love.

My friend who suicided realised too late that he had acted from emotion in making the decision to end his life, and that he didn’t want to die. He was still alive when that realisation came but it was impossible to change his outcome. In the moments before death he experienced extreme regret and sorrow, and a deep awareness of the trauma he would now inflict on his family. After death he came to a place of deep love and acceptance for himself and his life. That was his gift to me. He showed me and allowed me to feel that love. I have never experienced anything as comforting or all-encompassing as that place of unconditional love his soul moved into after death.

Souls don’t remain trapped on earth, or stuck in some strange in-between place because of trauma, sudden or violent death. We always return to love.

The true suffering is done here on earth.

The energetic imprint of trauma, violence and suffering can remain in a place, and many psychics and empaths will pick up on that. They can tune into thoughts, emotions and even images that have been imprinted. This energetic residue is NOT a trapped soul. Lightworkers can bear witness to that low vibration energy, and use love and light to dissipate it and heal a space or place if that feels right.


Do we always die because it is our time? I would love to say that I am wise enough to know the answer. All I can say here is that while many people do indeed die because whatever experience they needed here is complete, there are instances of accident and mishap that can terminate our lives before we did all we came here to do and experience. Life is fraught with risk. We are biological organisms. It’s a crazy adventure that sometimes goes wrong. I do know that, no matter what happens, we return to love when we die. And everything we experience teaches us something and helps us to grow – either in this life or in our time between lives.

It is important to remember that the ones most affected by sudden death (be it accident, suicide or medical) will be those left behind in life.


I also had a question from a reader about organ donation that fits in very well with what we’re talking about here on the blog this morning. Here it is:

“My understanding is that taking organs when the person is brain dead, or just after their heart has stopped beating means their spiritual body hasn’t completely left the physical body yet. I understand that this can cause distress in the next world and maybe even problems when reincarnating with a spiritual body that hasn’t fully healed from having parts taken or damaged. have you had any experiences of this type of thing, or is it something you could enquire into? My only personal experience is living in a building where they did experiments on human eyeballs in the basement. I’m not scared of ghosts usually, but the corridor by the basement always seemed to be teeming with unhappy souls.”


A ghost is an energetic residue. Many empaths and intuitives pick up on strong positive or negative emotional energies that have been imprinted upon objects or places. I believe that the reader who posted this question is highly empathic and intuitive, and hence their ability to tune into old energies held within the building where they lived.

When organs are taken from a donor, the person is already brain-dead or their heart has stopped beating. There will be no possibility that this person could be brought back to any form of life. Life is sometimes artificially continued for a short period of time through the use of machines that keep a supply of oxygenated blood flowing through the body. These keeps the organs viable so that the donor’s wish to gift life to others can still take place. The soul of this person will have already detached from their body when the organs are removed.

A soul is never hampered in their journey after death because of what may have happened to their physical body before or after death. A soul would not experience difficulties because part of their physical body continued to exist. That organ serves no purpose for the disembodied soul. We exist as more than just our physical bodies, and we have no need for our physical body after death. Our physical bodies may continue to do good and be of service after our death though, through acts such as organ donation.

Be kind to yourself, and those you meet. We never know what is going on within another, and this is often a hard time of year remembering those we have lost.

Much love to you, Nicole <3 xx


Requiem For These Passing Moments

“Every one of us is losing something precious to us. Lost opportunities, lost possibilities, feelings we can never get back again. That’s part of what it means to be alive.”
~ Haruki Murakami, Kafka on the Shore

“It all goes away. Eventually, everything goes away.”
~ Elizabeth Gilbert, Eat, Pray, Love


Sometimes, life is so exquisitely painful that I can scarcely breathe.

Is it odd then, that I find those moments compellingly beautiful too?

I’m not talking about the human me. Not the me who is down there on the floor sobbing in great ugly gulps, or stumbling endlessly through the paddocks with eyes streaming and a great big hole inside me. Or the me sitting silent, numb from shock and horror.

Not, not that me.

There is another me. An eternal me. A me filled with wisdom and kindness and so much love that if all of that soul energy were to dwell within me I would burst open and be nothing but sparks and flame.

That eternal me sat with me last night and held my hand. As I sat at my kitchen table and wrote, earphones delivering me a steady stream of musical novocaine, tears blurring the screen, the keys, the outside world, I was able to slip into that wise observer me and see how alive I was in my pain. How aware I was of the fragility of life. How humbled and overcome all at once. How connected I was with all other souls in this journey of joy and suffering.

Oh lovelies, this is such a wild and mysterious and crazy ride, this thing we call life.

We are, all of us, okay. Even when we’re not.

Holding you in my prayers and meditations,

Nicole <3 xx


The Tea Party – A Post About Friendship


“Anne and her family lived alone on an island. She enjoyed having tea time with her friends the spiny lobster and baby hawk.”

~  National Geographic, August 1938


Today I’m attending an afternoon tea for one of my friends.

Perhaps you’re all thinking it shall be like this: glamorous well-frocked girls having the perfect time.

I’m sure the food will be beautiful, and the company heart-warming. We’re coming together to celebrate a  milestone for one of our group, and to show our love and support, as friends do.

I’m really looking forward to catching up with everyone.

But today I also want to paint an honest portrait of our small group, so that you can appreciate the nature of friendship. And I’m also writing this in support of another dear friend who is battling with being in a difficult place in life right now, and who wrote yesterday that she was finding it difficult coping with the eternal optimism, happy-happy magical unicorns and dreams-come-true posts that are filling her facebook feed.

Photographs and posts seldom capture the energy that sits behind the snapshot of an event. So let me fill you in on ours.

Image from Etsy

Image from Etsy

The star of our afternoon tea came home with a limp and a scratchy throat last night, and may still be in questionable health today.

One of our party was released from hospital yesterday after an unexpected stay, and another of our number has recently been diagnosed with a serious virus that has laid her low and greatly slowed her down.

One girlfriend is completely under the hammer with work and deadlines, and has been flattened by stress.

One girlfriend has just lost her father.

I’m still reeling from the sudden death of my friend’s daughter and that intense week of psychic experiences, followed by the passing of a good friend a week ago whose death provoked a social media onslaught of judgment, nastiness and ignorance. On top of lyme playing havoc with my sleep, and leaving me ragged.

Why am I sharing this?

You might not be able to know these things by simply looking at us.

We might not be able to know these things by simply looking at you.

I also know you’ll relate. Haven’t you pulled yourself together, or made a big effort, or put that happy face on and pushed through at one time or another, because of the people you love? And most times we were glad we did.


Most of us are struggling a little right now. Haven’t you noticed that it’s crazy-time? As well as being the full moon. It’s the space we’re in energetically. It’s havoc and chaos and sadness and slow-down and obstruction. It’s big emotional stuff, and relationship stuff, and we’re all sitting in that energy and most of us are affected by it.

Despite that, and despite our own battles, a group of us will come together today and drink bubbles and cups of tea, and eat cake and sandwiches and assorted tasties. Because we care for each other. We love each other. And that’s what love does.

That’s actually the most delicious, nourishing and restorative thing of all.

Wherever you are today, know that I’m sending you love and wishing you well.

Bless xx

Image from

Image from

Howling at the Moon

Image from Wikia

Image from Wikia

 Those are the same stars, and that is the same moon, that look down upon your brothers and sisters, and which they see as they look up to them, though they are ever so far away from us, and each other.

~ Sojourner Truth

It’s 2 o’clock in the morning and I’m wide awake; fretful and fitful and just a bit teary.

Maybe it’s the Full Moon…

Or maybe it’s the fact that I’ve had three days of doctors, more tests and been given my new expanded treatment regime for Chronic Lyme.

I’m introducing three new drugs to the existing two.

That’s a lot of drugs…

And there’s a super-duper new restricted diet to go with that.

I don’t know why that should bother me.  I’ve spent thirty years following various diet plans, supplement and medicine plans and assorted other ‘get-me-well’ protocols. It’s not like I’ve gone from a normal life to this strangeness. This ‘strangeness’ is my normal!

I even have a helpful letter from one of my doctors, that I must use to release myself from a program I am now unable to complete.  I had to open the letter so I could fax it off to the recipient.  My doctor’s final words caught me by surprise, “her prognosis is guarded: I do not anticipate any form of recovery in the next twelve months. This is a most regrettable situation.”

Regrettable?  Yes, I guess it is.  And he makes me sound so sick.

Oh wait. That’s right.  I am.

I’ve been mostly coping okay, and I’m sure that after a bit more sleep I’ll be fine. But tonight, as my skin itches as if I’m being bitten by a thousand angry ants, as my left eye throbs and pulses from the bacteria inflaming my optic nerve, as my joins swell and pain, my head pounding, my ears burning, my gut a tortured length of misery, I am sitting in overwhelm.

I just want to howl.

I can imagine the wild dogs tonight, back at my farm, full voiced as they scream their collective angst and passion and solidarity to the sky.

I wish that I could join them.  The howl’s just there.  A primal thing pressuring the back of my throat.

But the neighbours in this respectable Brisbane suburb might think it strange to see a pyjama clad, tear-streaked woman howling her pain and frustration to the heavens. They’d probably call the police.

If I feel into this unvoiced howl though, if I lose myself to the pain, something comforting happens. Beyond the suffering and the infinite sadness at the loss of so much of my life to this damned thing, I find a strength. If I keep feeling into the howl I find a kinship.

I belong to a kind of fellowship, its members bound through the most primal and visceral of suffering. And I know something powerful about this membership – it transforms you.

Through this journey of chronic illness and pain I have found beauty, wisdom, courage and kindness. It has opened me up to a depth in myself I would never have otherwise explored.

I lay down on the couch, looking out the leaf-framed window to the silver moon above me. I feel the voices of the wild dogs.  I feel the kinship of the suffering on whom this same moon shines.

I am comforted. I am connected.  And I know it’s already okay.  I am okay.  I will be okay.

So I’ll keep gazing at the moon, bathe in her light, and wait for sleep to claim me.

Namaste ♥ xx

Image by Jess Newman

Image by Jesse Newman

Invisible Acts of Love and the Importance of Uplifting Others…

Image by Michael Leunig

‘Tis the everyday things that really count,

And the everyday people we know;

And everyday kindnesses go very far,

Toward making a heaven below.

Life can be a difficult ride, and each of us at times will know pain, trouble, loneliness and struggle.  That’s why it is so important for us to practice love and kindness.

But when we are going through our own difficulties, when we are tired or feeling taken for granted, we might wonder what’s the point? What’s the point of being kind? What’s the point of continuing to be caring, helpful, polite?

Have you noticed that emotional states are contagious? Hang around an angry person long enough and some of that will rub off on you.  The same goes for depression. Uncaring acts beget more. Selfishness breeds isolation, disrespect, contempt and ugliness.

Just as negative emotions have a negative impact, choosing to stay focused on love, gratitude, positive values and caring will have a positive impact in our lives.

Our emotional state and our thoughts travel out from us like ripples on a pond. They radiate energy that affects everything and everyone around us. Eventually some of that energy will be reflected back to us, perhaps weaker, perhaps greatly magnified…

Image from

What sort of world do you choose for yourself?

Loving others, living from your heart, choosing kindness, and performing acts of service and devotion that may well go unacknowledged or unappreciated are paths that can truly lead us to a better future, influencing and supporting the positive unfolding of history in ways we may not ever know or understand in our lifetime.

No matter what your emotional starting ground, when you uplift others, you also uplift yourself. When you share your heart, it doesn’t decrease your love – it expands your love, and your capacity to give and receive love.

Image from

Our Universe is built upon unseen acts of courage, goodness, faith, optimism, service and great love.

Whether you subscribe to a particular religion or not, whether you believe in God, karma, Universal Law or death and taxes – know that by your own actions, your choices, your values, sacrifices and personal character you contribute to the future unfolding of our planet.

Invisible acts of love, and uplifting others might not provide us with an immediate reward – but through these acts we are gifted something far more precious – they give us the power to positively shape destiny, and to better shape ourselves in the process.

When in doubt about how to act, be guided by the wisdom of the Dalai Lama:

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

Looking after Charlie

Charlie is one of the major loves of my life! We rescued him as a very small pup, and he has been an important part of our family ever since.

I hadn’t intended to get a dog… A friend from the country, who breeds working dogs, had phoned me to say that he was giving away pups. His children had left his breeding boxes open and instead of pure-bred kelpies and cattle dogs, he had a mixture of each. He even had some kelpie-labrador crosses, and that was what I had my heart set on.  But when I got to Benson’s to view the puppies, one fat little bundle of fluff came and sat squarely on the toe of my boot and pawed my leg.

It was love at first sight, and that’s how I ended up with Charlie, a kelpie-blue heeler cross.

When we bought our first cattle property, my grandfather, the son of a drover, suggested that we call our place ‘Charlie’s Run’. Back in the day a farm was often called a run, but this time we would name it not after ourselves, but after our dog. My grandfather thought this was an excellent plan, and so did we.

Charlie, on his farm

Charlie has had an outstanding record as a working dog, and as our friend. He’s travelled across the country with us, sleeping out under the stars as we’ve explored Australia, protecting our valuables, and keeping us company. Not only has he been a great help on the farm; mustering the herd, working the cattle yards, guarding things in the back of the truck when we’ve gone to town – he’s also kept us safe.

He intervened between a wild cow and Ben, saving Ben’s life and getting a broken jaw in the process. He stopped me from stepping on a deadly brown snake, and he has saved Bert, our youngest dog (countless times), from acts of puppy insanity such as wanting to bite the chainsaw or the whippersnipper.

The boys – Charlie all wise and sensible, Bert an insane but totally lovable pup!

He has also been unceasingly protective of me. Whenever Ben has been away, Charlie will position himself between me and anyone who comes to the door. He always lets them know that he’s on duty, looking after me. Whenever one of us has been sick, or down, he’s been right there at our side like a shadow, comforting us with his presence, always knowing how much or how little to intervene.

He’s taught Bert how to work the yards, and taken our mad puppy (also a rescue dog – you can read Bert’s story here) from a place of crazyness to a place where Bert can now do most of what Charlie did before, while Charlie sits and watches from under a tree, keeping me company.

Even now, he’s sitting at my feet as I write this.

But now it’s our turn to look after him. Charlie’s getting old. He’s sixteen, seventeen on the fourth of July. And a few weeks ago he had surgery to remove a very aggressive cancer that had manifested as an ugly and fast-growing tumour in his soft-palate. You could tell by the look on the vet’s face, even as he was trying to give us an up-side, just how bad the news really was.

We were all amazed at how Charlie bounced back from the extensive surgery. He’s got a gleam in his eye and a wag in his tail. And we’ve been spoiling him even more than usual.

We all know we’re on borrowed time now. I’m sure he does too.

And we won’t let him suffer. No living in pain for him, no indignities. Hard as it will be, when the time comes, we will look after him, the way he’s always looked after us.

Resting, after a big run around the new farm.

There is something so pure about the love of a dog, their joy in living, their devotion and loyalty. My life has been all the richer for knowing Charlie, and as heartbreaking as it will be when his time comes, it also helps me see the cycle of life, and remember that everything is okay.

Today, I’m looking after my dog. He’s been a bit wobbly on his feet the last week or so – a tumour on his spine it seems. He’s injured his paw, stumbling a night ago and ripping one of his hind claws almost off, necessitating a dash to the vet, where we sedated him and pulled off the whole nail. Charlie’s home now, with a pink bandage on his foot, and my unceasing attention. He’s been ordered to rest for a few days. No outdoors, no running around.

I’ve been delivering Charlie’s medicine by hiding the capsules in freshly peeled prawns. Why not? He deserves them, and they are his total favourite.

My old dog looks at me with a twinkle in his eye. He’s not silly – he knows he’s on a good thing. Ben and Bert have gone back to the farm to muster and attend to the never-ending string of jobs. While Charlie and I are cosied up together on the lounge, looking forward to prawns and tasty treats in the nice warm house, down at the farm they’ll be out in the frosty dawn, tramping through wet paddocks getting cold and muddy, and living on bachelor cooking.

It is my honour to look after such a faithful friend. He has a special place in my heart, and I’m glad to have him just a little while longer so I can feed him prawns, give him hugs and pats and make sure he knows how much I really love him. ♥♥♥

You’re not alone…

Feeling small – by Artist Jaime Zatloukal Best


life can get you down

you can feel so small that you wonder if anyone knows you’re here

you might even wonder if anyone cares

Sad, wet and lonely puppy – Image from deliriously-angelic.blogspot

life’s burdens may weigh upon you

until you wonder how you’ll ever take another step

until you wonder if you’re cut out for this

until you doubt you’ll ever be the same

until you doubt you can ever know love, or joy or happiness again

A firefighter breaks down after the World Trade Centre collapse on September 11, 2001. Getty Images: Mario Tama

the pain of life can overwhelm you

but understand something…

you’re not alone

although sometimes it might feel like yours is the only voice

out there in the universe – close to home, or further away

there’s someone praying for you

there’s someone who cares

there’s someone holding that space of love and light and hope

there’s someone imbuing you with strength

Image from

we are surrounded by unseen forces

angels and guides watch over us

love transcends all boundaries

Image from

there are people we’ll never meet who wish us only good

there are hearts whose only thought

is that you be uplifted, that you know love, that you know peace

Candles lit as prayers for peace – image from

today perhaps it’s your turn to hurt

everything has its season

tomorrow might be your turn to hold that intention of love and safety for another

Image by

we are, each of us, in this together

and together we find a way, for ourselves, for each other

today, know that I am here for you

holding that space

wishing you well

bless ♥ xx