Welcome to my blog – with extras! Extras like courses and events, cup of tea sessions, meditation recordings and podcasts, poetry and stories.
I am an elder woman: I’ve seen a lot of life and a lot of death, navigated many transitions and passed through numerous thresholds. I have worked in many different capacities but all of them are simply vehicles for my particular shape of love. This website is one way of offering my love and my gifts to you.
Please do feel invited to write to me, send poems, images and so on – I would love to hear from you.
I hope you will leave my site feeling warmer, comforted, smiling on the inside and in some way accompanied.
With love,
Nickie
“[Nickie is] like a magic porridge pot overflowing with love to give”. S.E.
- 7 years on…
7 years since I couldn’t find the Gaviscon you requested, for the “little bit of acid indigestion” which turned out to be your organs shutting down.
7 years since you hiccuped out of life and I stood beside you not knowing, from all the necessary options, which to do first.
And after your children came and your daughter and I had bathed you in bed – as we had the day before while you still lived – and we all sat in our bright sunny garden eating croissants and apricot jam, the garden gate banged suddenly as an unexpected breeze blew through.
7 years since the two of us were left alone in our home but only one of us was breathing.
Does it matter that I remember this date every year, that I take time out to mark it, to remember? I think that it does. It isn’t that my beloved is ever far from my thoughts or that I’m ever not loving him, but in the same way perhaps that some people have a place – a grave or tree, a special bench or view – where they go to be fully present with their loved one, so it helps me to have a time, sacrosanct, in which to remember.
Dignity
The week before my husband’s anniversary is, in the UK, always Dying Matters Awareness Week, and, if you read this blog regularly, you will know I’ve been involved this year in several events. As well as singing with the Threshold Choir I lead in order to raise awareness of the service we offer and to offer comfort to people in the audience who happened to be grieving, I was also speaking at events. Each time I found myself talking about the anxiety I notice people at the end of their lives often experience, about not death itself, but dying. How will they get from where they are now in the land of the living, to the doorway through which lies the land of the dead? The anxiety is commonly fuelled by fear of losing not only control but self-control. I found myself saying on Saturday,
“Having your bottom wiped by someone else, isn’t undignified. Your dignity is innate.”
What I wish I had also said was,
“Doing that for my husband, was just another way of loving him. For him to graciously allow that, was another way for him to practise receiving love. To receive love is an act of vulnerability and trust.”
Everything we did in his dying process was in service to love. Which is not to say it wasn’t messy. Yes, I was annoyed one day and irritable another. I was tired and hacked off and so was he. I’m not pretending it was a bed of roses but with the benefit of 7 years of hindsight, I can say this gutty, exhausting, uncertain journey with one certain outcome, was precious.
Together for what?
When we were first together we imagined that we would be sharing with the world, the love and understanding we felt so fortunate to have found. Inspired, we set up our own business – Ways of Heart and Soul – and held retreats of all sorts and sizes. When death knocked on the door and the end was in sight, we realised that whatever else, we had come together for me to accompany my man into a conscious death and to do whatever I could to ensure he knew himself loved and loveable as he passed through the door out of life.
Gradually I have come to see that, unwanted as it was, his death gave me my life as I now know it. There is no-one here to hide behind and nothing to lose. It drove him nuts that I deferred to him and didn’t trust myself. Now there is no-one to trust but myself, no-one else I can rely upon. What I am coming little by little to trust, is my own voice.
My voice
When I write this blog I voice my thoughts, feelings, stories, experiences, inspiration, vulnerabilities and above all my love. When I lead my choir, I allow my voice to carry the love in my heart to whoever is listening, for their peace, comfort or solace.
. When I wrote my book, spoke on the radio, showed up on the film Threshold, when I lead workshops or retreats, I make my alchemised experience available to those who care to listen. The outcome of that is not my business. If 10 people hear and one stops to listen, wonderful – one heart touched is one heart touched. If no-one listens, so be it. I’m not claiming to be any kind of ‘finished article’, more that this being human is difficult – we fall down, we help each other up, we make mistakes, we forgive one another – and I am prepared to express it as I find it, no frills attached.
What I am saying today, is that as I midwifed my husband into his death, so he midwifed me into my life. And the other thing I am saying is, that we were right: we did join together to offer our shared love into the world. What we did not foresee is that one of us would be alive to do it and the other dead. More and more that is how I see it – a joint endeavour, an offering of the love we found together, in service to the Love which holds us all.
Nobody has to listen, but one way or another, I am going to sing my song, the song my soul was born to sing. I hope so much that some of you would like to sing your songs alongside me.
With my love
Nickie
PS Please do write to me, tell me your song, let me hear your voice. And here’s an invitation. This blog was never intended to be my voice only. If you have something you’d like to share or even if you’d like to write a blog in its entirety, let me know. I am looking forward to hearing from you.
NEWS
Thank you
Firstly, a big thank you to everyone who, in whatever way, supported the Dying Matters Awareness Week. In the village where I live, the Death Cafe we hosted was almost full (just as well – as it was we had cake coming out of our ears!) and we had a full house for the showing of the Threshold film afterwards, with the beautiful film maker Florence Browne there to answer questions, followed by MoorHeart Threshold singers taking everyone on a journey towards their own threshold. I am deeply grateful for everyone’s love and support for that, and for the radio interview. It was an edge for me and I appreciate your encouragement and interest. Thank you
Creative Pathways for Life and Loss
SATURDAY 18TH JULY 10.30 – 4.30 IN HALLR WOOD, NEAR SOMERTON
Please join us for a nourishing and resourcing day in Somerset.
The wood belongs to Deb Millar who hosts many different groups in the wood and knows how healing it can be to be outside with the trees, the earth and the sky.
We will weave together creative expression, sharing and reflection and provide you with a simple lunch and refreshments.
Cost: £30 – there are one or two donation and concessionary places available if finances are an issue for you. Equally we are open to receiving more if you are feeling abundant and this will allow us to offer further concessions. Thank you.
This will be a small group and booking is essential. For more information or to book, please write to: deb@wilderwoods.org
I hope to see you there.
Buy Me a Coffee
I have been writing this blog for 3 years now and for the last couple of years many of you have gifted me through Buy Me a Coffee. I felt shy to ask you initially, but I cannot tell you how much it warms my heart to have £5 drop in here and another £5 or £10 there. You don’t pay me for my writing, you gift me for what I offer and to me it feels as if our shared currency is love. Thank you so much. I am open to receive your love any time you feel like sharing it. Here’s the ‘love link’ !