The Power of Mentors – Your Path To Success

Mentorship is simply learning from the mistakes and mastery of a successful person in his/her field. – Bernard Kelvin Clive

 

We all learn by modelling ourselves on others.  As babies we mimic our parents, copying everything they do until we learn to do those things for ourselves; facial expressions, gestures, words, movements…  The fastest way to have success in anything is always to find someone who is already doing that thing, and then copy what they do, or even better – engage with them and have them show you, or help you.

A mentor is someone who has walked the path before you, learned from their mistakes and become successful in their field. What makes them valuable to you is that THEY know how to do what you want to do because they’ve done it already. I have found business mentors, writing mentors (Hi, Doctor Kim!), money mentors and organic farming mentors to name a few. Sometimes my relationship with these people has been a tangible thing, and sometimes I’ve just watched what they’ve done or read their book – and copied what they did to become successful in their field.

I also work as a spiritual mentor with people who want to develop their metaphysical and psychic abilities. That’s a road I know very well.

It’s never too late to change or improve ourselves.  Today we’re going to use journalling to help us identify who we want to be, and who can help us achieve those dreams. Why not make yourself a nice cup of tea, or take yourself out to a coffee shop. With a beverage at your elbow, and a notebook and pen in hand, work through the following activity. You might surprise yourself at what you discover.

Journal Exercise:

Start by writing this passage at the top of your page.

Dear Universe, 

I trust that there is a Universal Wisdom which recognises my gifts and talents, that understands what outcomes and adventures are best for my Highest good, and that matches me to mentors best suited to helping me achieve my dreams.

I trust that there is someone out there who knows exactly what I need to do next. 

I am ready to embrace the possibility of a better life for myself. I am ready to move from struggle into flow.  I am ready to embrace abundance, in all its forms. I want you to know that I’m ready for whatever wonderful experiences and opportunities you send my way. I am ready to embrace change, and I am ready to embrace success. Thank you for the mentors I now attract into my life.

Now think of an area in your life where you would like to have success.  Don’t judge what comes next, and don’t over-think it.  Just trust that what you write will begin to create a greater sense of personal and spiritual awareness in your life.

Create a list of people who are leaders in this field, and that you can look up to. (if you don’t know who they are, then do a little research!)

Choose one of the people on your list and spend some time writing about WHY you admire this person, and what they do or have done that you would like to have more of in your own life.  Really allow yourself to explore this in detail, making the emotions you feel as you write this strong and real.

When you have finished, write about how you want YOUR life to look as you walk this same path.  Write down the outcomes you want for yourself, and how this will positively change your future, and the world around you.

Do this over a couple of days, using different mentors from your list each day. Trust that as you build this connection through writing, the perfect teachers, courses, resources, mentors and support will begin to show up in your life.

NB: If you feel that you are walking a path of spiritual awakening right now, and you’d like to explore that further, I suggest you do this exercise while holding one of the following crystals:

  • Clear Quartz – for connecting with Guides and Higher Wisdom
  • Fluorite – for understanding your creative path, and for clear guidance with writing
  • Sodalite – for answers about relationships and knowing your own truth
  • Amethyst – for connecting into your spiritual gifts
  • Rhyolite – for channelled wisdoms – showing you that inner truth you find difficult to access on your own

 

One more thing…

You know more than you think you do.  How can you mentor others? Where can you reach out to people to share what you know, so that others can learn from YOUR experiences and mistakes?

Learning is love – so let’s spread the love around.  Helping others achieve their dreams always moves us closer to our own. ♥

Feathers for a Friend

raven crow magic dreaming talisman

Image by Sigi Dawn LoStimolo. You can find more of her beautiful work at her Etsy shop: https://www.etsy.com/shop/SigiDawn

“Beyond the edge of the world there’s a space where emptiness and substance neatly overlap, where past and future form a continuous, endless loop. And, hovering about, there are signs no one has ever read, chords no one has ever heard.”
~ Haruki Murakami, Kafka on the Shore

 

 

This week I am enjoying some precious days at our farm, between rounds of city doctors and their clinical offices and dry predictions.

When you can’t see, you interface differently with the world. Right now my world is not one of darkness, but rather of indistinction. Everything is blurred, and there is not a crisp edge or a sharp detail to be found. Instead I find that clarity and meaning are coming in other ways. My senses are heightened. My awareness is crystal. Where once I saw, now I listen or turn my eyes inward. I let my soul see what my eyes cannot.

There is a large jacaranda tree in bloom to one side of the farmhouse. The tree is a favourite haunt of birds, and there is one huge limb that runs parallel to the ground. This week as I have sat quietly on my verandah a number of birds have come to visit me – strolling up and down that long limb as performers on a stage.

First came Madam Crow. I know this old bird well. She and her mate have a large platform of sticks at the back of the orchard and they return year after year to raise a new season of offspring.

She strode the tree branch, clicking and calling, regal in both her manner and mood. In some ways Madam Crow reminded me of a Shakespearian actor, aware of my presence and playing to me, but at the same time lost in her own world.

She preened herself and kept me company. Later that day Ben found two feathers on the ground underneath where she had sat. I knew that I was a custodian of these feathers, and that they had Crow Magic to them.

Torresian Crow - this image by Peter at www.flickr.com

Torresian Crow – this image by Peter at www.flickr.com

Over the coming days more birds walked that bough stage. There was a Magpie who came back again and again to that branch. She too gave a gift of feathers.

There were multitudes of Finches, Honeyeaters and Tree Creepers. A fat Wompoo Pigeon. A usually elusive Catbird.

My hoard of feathers grew. I began to feel the messages from each animal, and how to best create some talismans to hold the energy of each message.

Finally I went to the front room and choose some waxed thread, some crystals, and some wooden beads. I chose them based on their energy – their feeling in my hands.

beads, stones and feathers

My fingers know how to wrap and knot and bead. I don’t need to see what I am doing. This is something I have done for so long that my hands can find their own way.

Taking the first two feathers – one of Crow and one of Magpie – I made a beaded feather talisman. As I worked I sang the message from the birds into the stones and wood, into the binding thread, into the feathers. I felt the energy build and lock.

The finished piece rippled energy out into the world.

2016-10-19-17-30-07

This first one was a Writing Talisman – an encouragement for someone to share their personal story. An entreatment to go deeper, to be brave in sharing truth, at gifting this story in a way that might illuminate the way for others. The feathers are supported by banded red and black agate, bone, marble, black tourmaline, rosewood and a few chakra stones that support communication and flow of words.

As I held the talisman a friend came into my head. I knew it was for her.

Just five minutes later she sent me a text asking if I was free to chat. She called me. In the course of our conversation she mentioned that out of the blue she had been thinking about her memoir today. She’d found some new ideas and a way forward.

So, dear Carly, I’m bringing this to the city for you. I know it will weave a magic into your words. I know that it will help.

Ganesha has held this in his hand yesterday and today. It is charged up and ready for you. It feels wonderful. It feels like home.

Ganesha with feathers

2016-10-19-17-32-29

Ganesha

Carly and Ben giving Ganesha his yearly coating of wax before redressing him in his finery. Ganesha lives on our verandah, looking out over the jacaranda tree.

I still have a clutch of feathers, and I have begun my second talisman. I know that it is meant to go to one of you, dear readers and friends.

I’ll be giving it away next week.

I’ll let you know more soon about what it is for. I trust that it will find its way to whomever needs it most.

Much love to you,

Nicole <3 xoxo

2016-10-19-17-29-54

 

An Amazingly Ordinary Fabulous Day!

2016-05-20 07.39.04

“Do not ask your children
to strive for extraordinary lives.
Such striving may seem admirable,
but it is the way of foolishness.
Help them instead to find the wonder
and the marvel of an ordinary life.
Show them the joy of tasting
tomatoes, apples and pears.
Show them how to cry
when pets and people die.
Show them the infinite pleasure
in the touch of a hand.
And make the ordinary come alive for them.
The extraordinary will take care of itself.”
~ William Martin, The Parent’s Tao Te Ching: Ancient Advice for Modern Parents

 

Ordinary.

It sounds so boring, doesn’t it?

Except that it’s not.

As someone who has suffered chronic illness for decades, ordinary has long been a pipe-dream for me. To be ordinary, to have the energy of an ordinary person and to do ordinary things over the course of an ordinary day? Wow! WOW! That would be amazing!!!

Yesterday I had one of those days. An ordinary one. I woke early and meditated, helped my husband stack windfallen timber on burn piles, and then dragged the hose around my vegetable gardens and new fruit trees before we headed out to the markets and breakfast at a favourite cafe.

After breakfast we came home and I did a load of washing, and then worked on a new draft of my Year of ME Planner (stay tuned – it’s not too late if you haven’t started. I’m launching a mid-year intake on my course, and there is a June to December version of the Planner to help you make the most of the remaining half of this year! We’ll be launching Monday 23rd of May – or Sunday 22nd if you live on the other side of the world.).

2016-05-20 11.27.40Then I sat in the sunshine and coached two of my Deluxe Year of ME students via skype, and did an emergency reading for a client.

Washing off the line, the hose dragged up into the orchard to deep-soak a few fruiting trees, and a big pot of chilli made and on the stove for dinner.

Course uploads and a recording for one of my groups. A few facebook messages and comments on posts.

After dinner there was time to work on my memoir. A whole chapter rewritten before shower, meditation and bed.

It was a full day.

My brain worked.

My body worked.

I had energy.

I was happy and engaged and so, so positive and clear about my direction and my various projects.

At day’s end I wrapped myself in my blankets and promptly fell asleep. After a moment of worrying as to whether I had overdone it…

And this morning I woke after a great sleep, stretched, meditated and began the day feeling as good as I did yesterday.

Wow.

I think this is what well must feel like. Whatever it is, sign me up for more!

Ordinary is extraordinary. It’s deliciousness on a stick.

Hugs and love from a very grateful and slightly emotional Nicole xx

2016-05-20 07.38.48

 

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

 

Home In My Own Bed!

2015-10-10 12.17.20

“I live in my own little world. But it’s ok, they know me here.”
~ Lauren Myracle

 

There is something so sweet and good about sleeping in your own bed after a long time away.

It’s a little crowded just now though. Harry and Bert refuse to leave my side. Not that I’m complaining. 🙂

The two weeks of rest is going well. I have napped and ready many books. I have sipped cups of tea from bed, and coloured picture books as a mindful meditation. Or just for fun.

My mind, free to roam, has surprised me with little extra treats and ideas for my end of year retreat, and for all kinds of other wonderful offerings. I love being able to be in a space of dreaming and creativity – and for me that process seems to work best when I am in my pyjamas. (Hooray for no more breezy hospital gowns!)

I’m doing really well, and the trick now is to keep resting and not overdoing it. (This is always the hard part for me. Do you find resting hard too?) Mind you, it’s challenging to overdo things when you are pinned to the bed by two loyal dogs, and you have a husband and a personal assistant who lovingly growl if I even look like doing anything workish.

Today I’m working on my pirates and fairies story, mapping out adventures and filling in some details about important things for this world I’m creating in my head. Of course that will be interspersed between more naps and cups of tea and cuddles with my boys. Probably my most important story development will happen in my dreams!

Please know that I’m sending you all lots of love. Of course you’re included in my healing meditations each morning and night. Thank you too, for all the healing, love and well wishes you’ve sent me. It has helped heaps!

Hugs and love and all that good stuff, Nicole <3 xoxo

Crazy Busy Writing!

2015-08-05 18.31.45

“There is nothing to writing. All you do is sit down at a typewriter and bleed.”
~ Ernest Hemingway

There’s not much going on at my house right now.

Except this.

Reading. Underlining. Sighing. Crying. This book is all a pile of crap. Sudden bursts of stompy-footed door slamming and wandering around the paddocks. The clickety click of my keyboard. Endless kettles boiling.  Paper. Everywhere.

Ben brings me tea, and makes a hurried exit.

Thinking.

Reading. Highlighting. Sighing. Laughing. Hey, that bit was quite funny. Reading some more. Nope, it’s all still crap. Sudden bursts of stompy-footed door slamming and wandering around the paddocks.

Ben stokes the fire and stays out of my way.

Emergency phone calls to my sister. ‘Hi, can you remember when this thing happened? Great. Thanks. Bye.’ Hanging up to get straight back to writing.

Me reading over things thinking ‘Can I tell them that? Can I say that?’ Me wriggling in agony, ‘God, I can’t believe I’m writing that.’ Sitting under trees watching the black cockatoos flying overhead. The clickety click of my keyboard. Endless cups of tea. Words. Everywhere.

I’m working on the final edit of my Kimberley story. How stupid was I to think that it would be easy to write about myself! A memoir? I’d rather scrub the bathroom with a toothbrush. Hemmingway was right.

More tea. More writing. More sighing.

Let’s hope this is all soon done, so that normal life may resume.

A New Journal Challenge For You!

Image from artleo.com

Image from artleo.com

“The wound is the place where the Light enters you.”
~ Rumi

Writing a journal is something I’ve done since I was a child. I don’t mean a simple diary, where you record the events of the day. You know what I mean… I ate this. I did this. Someone said that. No. I mean a place where I could explore ideas, talk with myself, and find my own answers.

Over the last few years I’ve created several journal challenges here on my blog, and I’ve just made a new one for you, to take advantage of the fabulous energies August and September bring for truly going deep within, in order to know and understand ourselves better.

Would you like to join me?

We’ll be starting next Sunday, August 2nd, so that you have adequate time to gather your resources together. Each Sunday for September and August I will have a new journal activity for you to complete during the week. You’ll need a minimum of ten minutes to set aside each week for writing, and an additional five minutes per day for five out of seven days for energy work. (If you can do more, great. If you can only find ten minutes then we’ll flow with that too.) There will also be an optional guided meditation each week.

Here’s what you’ll need:

  • A new journal. Choose one that feels right for you. Make sure there are enough pages to get you through 9 activities.
  • Some pens and pencils.
  • A small stone to use as a gratitude rock.
  • A larger rock or crystal to use as a guidance stone.
  • A deck of oracle cards.
  • A sense of adventure and a readiness to explore your inner world.

NB: A note on choosing oracle cards – choose cards whose pictures and messages are meaningful to you. Avoid cards such as tarot decks that show only coins or cups etc. Instead choose a deck whose imagery really speaks to you. It’s the pictures that matter. Don’t worry if you don’t know how to use them. I’ll be showing you.

That’s my own journal, cards and stones in the picture below. I’ll be right beside you doing each week’s activities too. My gratitude rock is a small citrine, and my guidance stone is a labradorite. The oracle cards I’ll be using are Colette Baron-Reid’s Enchanted Map cards

Who’s in? Pop your name in the comments or let us know over on facebook. If you post a pic on the facebook page during this challenge, you’ll be in the running to win a cool prize! Stay tuned for directions.

Much love, Nicole <3 xx

2015-07-25 17.30.00

You’ll find all the journal challenges for August and September here:

Week One Journal Challenge

Week Two Journal Challenge

Week Three Journal Challenge

Week Four Journal Challenge

Week Five Journal Challenge

Week Six Journal Challenge

Week Seven Journal Challenge

Week Eight Journal Challenge

Week Nine Journal Challenge

Join Me For A Letter Writing Challenge?

Image from imgkid.com

Image from imgkid.com

“More than kisses, letters mingle souls.”
~John Donne

“Only write to me, write to me, I love to see the hop and skip and sudden starts of your ink.”
~ A.S. Byatt, Possession

“Harry picked it up and stared at it, his heart twanging like a giant elastic band. No one, ever, in his whole life, had written to him. Who would? He had no friends, no other relatives ~  he didn’t belong to the library, so he’d never even got rude notes asking for books back. Yet here it was, a letter, addressed so plainly there could be no mistake:

Mr. H. Potter
The Cupboard under the Stairs
4 Privet Drive
Little Whinging
Surrey

~ J.K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone

 

Hello, Lovelies!

Today I’m asking you if you’d like to join me for a letter writing challenge.

In the top drawer of my desk I have some very precious letters that have been sent to me over the years. One of them was penned by my mum, when she went into hospital to give birth to my little sister. That’s my earliest letter. I  have cards and notes from old school friends, love letters, and precious letters from my grandparents – all of whom are now deceased.

I treasure a box full of letters and cards from clients and students.

At my lowest or loneliest moments I have found solace in those scraps of paper and card. They have made me laugh, they have made me cry, and they have waltzed me down memory lane in a way no text message or email ever could.

There is also a special timber box at my farm full of letters for my Secret Dream Project – a project where I invited people to write me letters, so that I could support the space for their most secret dreams to come to fruition. I read the letters, and then programmed a crystal for each one.

2013-05-08 17.59.22

Letters can be transformative for both the writer and the reader.

Over the next six weeks, every Monday, I shall post a theme and ideas, and ask you to pen a short (or long!) letter to someone, and then pop it in the post to them.

Here’s what you’ll need:

  • Your favourite pen or writing implement
  • Writing paper, cards or postcards
  • A small crystal or stone
  • Between five and thirty minutes each week to sit down and write your letter.

Will you join me in sending some love and positive energy into the world?

If the answer is yes, write your name below or pop over to my facebook page and say hi. (Of course you can always just join in the challenge and be anonymous, but it’s so much fun to connect and join the party! – Either which way, I honour you.)

Lots of love, Nicole xx

I’m-just-a-little-pencil-in-the-hand-of-a-writing-God-sending-a-love-letter-to-the-world.―-Mother-Teresa-Quotes

What It Feels Like to be Hijacked By a New Story

Image from betsychasse.net

Image from betsychasse.net

“Don’t bend; don’t water it down; don’t try to make it logical; don’t edit your own soul according to the fashion. Rather, follow your most intense obsessions mercilessly.”
~ Franz Kafka

 

Last year, on one of my retreats, something very interesting happened. Just a passing thing. But it would not let me go.

I remember it so clearly. It was if God, or whoever it is up there in that unseen place, turned my head and held it gently in their hands as they directed my gaze and made all my senses hyper-acute. Look, they said. Remember.

It was a bizarre moment. Which then kept replaying in my head.

I had no idea why.

Not long after, in the middle of the night I woke up with my chest pounding. I’d just dreamed an entire scene related to that one moment now committed to the celluloid palace of my memories.

Image from fishki.net

Image from fishki.net

A few nights later there was another dream. A dream seemingly unrelated but so vivid that I hurried to capture every last detail on paper the moment I woke up.

I had no idea that all of these events would end up connecting.

I had no idea that this would be the genesis of a story within me.

Meanwhile I ran another retreat. I worked on being better, and stronger, and less Lyme-y. I planned my year for 2015. A year that did not include this story.

This was to be my year for editing the three manuscripts in my bottom draw. The year for me to get my website up and flying. The year for cookbooks and spiritual handbooks and blogging.

But no.

One night, in my dream, one of my characters came and sat on my bed. Nicole, she said, you need to tell this story.

I saw how all of these dreams were interconnected. How the thread of the story braided itself together in front of me.

And just like that, it has taken over my life.

I’m still doing all of the other things in my plan. But I find myself sneaking off in any spare moment to hammer out a few more words, or to spend a little time dreaming and planning and opening myself to whatever might come next.

I feel that this story owns me, and through me it is writing itself.

That. That is what it is to be hijacked by your story.

Beautiful. Magical. Terrifying. Wild. Healing. Hopeful. Brilliant.

Even the air tastes cleaner and more whole in my lungs since I began.

I can’t do anything but submit and give myself over to the telling of it.

I’m at that place where fate and hard work collide.

On Overcoming Obstacles

“Nothing in this world can take the place of persistence. Talent will not: nothing is more common than unsuccessful men with talent. Genius will not; unrewarded genius is almost a proverb. Education will not: the world is full of educated derelicts. Persistence and determination alone are omnipotent.” ~ Calvin Coolidge

 
I have always wanted to be a writer.

I wrote my first full book when I was four, complete with illustrations.

Writing was what I did. It was who I was.

But contracting Lyme Disease at sixteen changed all that. I began to lose words.

By the time I moved to the Kimberley, when I was in my mid-twenties, things were significantly worse.

I write about it here, in the draft of my memoir, based on that period in the Kimberley with my Aboriginal Aunties. At the time, my diagnosis (I’ve had many before Lyme) was relapsing and remitting multiple sclerosis.

“I stepped out of the laundry block and looked up at the sky. It was filled with beautiful streaky…

It was filled with beautiful…

You know.

Those white things.

What were they called?

For the life of me I couldn’t find the word. White was all I could come up with. I knew they weren’t called white. I knew they had a name. But that word, whatever it was, remained dangerously elusive.

Fluffy?

Bear? No, that wasn’t the right word. I sighed with exasperation. Now I couldn’t remember what bear was. But it was brown. Like a tree trunk?

A quiet horror awakened in me. As I ticked off the possible causes – lack of sleep, dehydration, low blood sugar – I knew it would be none of them. I dreaded to think that it could actually be multiple sclerosis. This dull worry exploded inside me, and a moment later my inner warning lights came on. My vocabulary had shrunk dramatically over the past several years, but I’d never lost a word before. I’d always been able to find another word that worked. If I couldn’t say beer I’d say ale or tinny or cold drink. I had good coping strategies. Even when my cognitive function hit a major low I’d managed. Point in case: I had been coping with my new lack of ability with numbers. After all I could still read words, I could still read numbers. I found a way around the problems.

This was the first time I had looked at something familiar and gone completely blank. Words, knowing how to string them together, writing them, speaking them, crafting them, had always been the one thing I could do well. Writing was my fall-back plan. My secret love. What if I lost my words? I couldn’t bear to think about what my life would look like if that happened.

All week it worsened. I never did remember that word for the white things in the sky, and couldn’t even cheat a little by looking them up in my dictionary because I didn’t have a starting point. I also noticed that things didn’t stick in my brain. After reading and re-reading a fax and still struggling to make sense of it I resorted to a list of short bullet points, summarising as I read each paragraph. The bullet points kept my thoughts in order, and jogged my memory. I was reluctant to ring my doctor back in Brisbane, worried that he’d tell me to leave the Kimberley and come home immediately, from which I’d eventually end up in an aged-care facility with all of the old people who had also lost the ability to think and do for themselves.

I became suddenly, stupidly, enormously insecure. Carefully I observed myself, keeping notes in my journal each day. My cognitive dysfunction became worse when I was tired or stressed, and my best time was from when I woke up until lunch. There was a black hole each afternoon where my brain function was massively retarded, and it picked up a little again after four in the afternoon. I rearranged my day so that my mornings were all about problem solving, writing and math. My afternoons were filing, tidying and simple tasks that didn’t need much brain power. No-one else noticed that anything was wrong. I still managed to work each day and complete my duties. However, no matter what I did, the sudden decline in my mental ability was terrifying.”

 

That terror, that dumb incapacity, that lack of ability to find the right words, to remember the plot or the characters, to hold a train of thought? Those things have plagued me my whole adult life. The last paragraph from my memoir extract? That sums up living with Lyme. That sums up three decades of my life.

Sure, I’ve still written. I’ve compensated. I’ve found ways to get words on the page. But they haven’t always flowed, and as the number of pages increased so did my confusion.

Now, after two years of hard-core drug treatment, and a host of other helpful modalities and herbs, my brain is healing. I am healing. My function is coming back.

At my writers’ boot camp this weekend, words have been pouring out of me. Good ones. Words, that when I read over them later, make me weep.

Because I have found that place again. The one that has been lost to me for thirty years. I can remember plots and characters, I can see where something needs to be edited, and I can reach into that wellspring of ideas and still find my way back from the catacombs.

That’s a handy thing.

After thirty years I have so much to say!

Your take-home on all of this?

Don’t ever give up.

Ever.

Be resilient. Be determined. Trust that you will find a way.

Holding you, and those intentions for you, in my meditations and prayers,

Nicole xx

Image from danhilbert.wordpress.com

Image from danhilbert.wordpress.com