Nancy S.Hickson, Peace of Self

02/24/2026

Living Between Worlds: Where Is Home?

I’ve lived much of my life with one foot in Norway, and one in the United States.
Two different cultures. Two very different rhythms.
And over time, they’ve both shaped me in ways I’m still unfolding.

Norway gave me stillness.
The kind of quiet that isn’t uncomfortable — just present.
There, I learned how to slow down, to trust the unsaid, to let simplicity be enough.

The U.S. gave me movement.
Energy.
A sense of possibility.
But also… urgency. The pressure to always do, become, achieve.

Living between these two places has taught me how to hold paradox.
To slow down without disappearing.
To move forward without disconnecting.
To make space for both clarity and complexity.

This is the lens I bring into the work I do — a spacious, human approach that doesn’t ask you to pick a side, but invites you to integrate who you are.

You don’t have to belong to one world.
You can make a life that honors all of you.

What have your places — your landscapes, your cultures — taught you about belonging?

Read the full blog on my website - link in bio!

02/18/2026

02/15/2026

A Valentine’s Day Reflection: Belonging to Yourself.
This time of year often centers on love — but not always the kind we most need.

Before we reach outward, we can ask inward:
How do I belong to myself?
Not perform. Not perfect.
Just… belong.

Self-love isn’t a grand gesture.
It’s in the quiet boundaries.
The way you listen to your body.
The way you come back to yourself when the world feels loud.

What if you made space today — not to fix, not to prove — but simply to be with yourself?
To soften. To witness. To tend.
That is love, too.

You are allowed to belong to yourself first.
What would it look like to love yourself in the smallest possible way today?

02/10/2026

Recently, I shared a conversation with Denise and Eva about what coaching really is — not a way to fix or improve ourselves, but a space to return to who we already are.

We talked about what it means to live with intention in a world that constantly pulls us toward urgency and performance.
About how presence isn’t something we master — it’s something we keep returning to.
And how the real work of coaching is often honest, imperfect, and deeply human.

What I loved most was the spaciousness —
Room to pause.
To reflect.
To ask questions that don’t need quick answers.
The kind of questions that gently guide us back to what matters.

If you’ve ever wondered what coaching feels like beneath the surface… or how to build a life that is rooted rather than rushed — this reflects that journey.

Take this with you on a walk, while journaling, or sitting with something warm. Let it be a quiet companion.

02/02/2026

Returning to the Body, Returning to Trust

There was a time when I lived (mostly) in my head.
Trying to manage stress with thinking, with effort, with control.

But my body always knew the truth — even when I didn’t.
It held what I couldn’t name.
The tension.
The fear.
The fatigue that didn’t seem to go away.

It wasn’t until I slowed down, until I began to listen to my body, that something shifted.
Not through force.
But through breath.
Through stillness.
Through learning how to feel safe inside myself.

This is the heart of what I teach now.
Not performance.
Not perfection.
But presence.
And presence always begins in the body.
Even if it’s just lying on the floor.
Even if it’s just one quiet breath.

If your nervous system feels overworked, pause.
Feel your back supported.
Let your breath arrive without needing to change it. Just this!
That, too, is a beginning.

📸Rebecca E. Pinkham, Maine Photographer

01/27/2026

Behind the Scenes - Staying Rooted in the Work

People sometimes assume that as a coach, I always have the answers.
But the truth is: I’m still learning — and I always want to be.

Behind the scenes, I educate myself, keep being inspired.
Not because I have to, but because I choose to stay connected to the heart of this work.
Holding a space for reflection, growth, and integrity.

It’s a reminder to keep listening, to stay present, and to keep doing the inner work — so I can hold space for others with clarity and care.
Coaching isn’t a fixed role. It’s a living relationship.

And just like my clients, I benefit from being witnessed, challenged, and supported.
This is one of the ways I stay grounded in the practice — not as an expert, but as a human, too.

01/19/2026

55 years ago, a 5-year-old’s world changed when her nightgown caught fire.

Today, at 60, I am honoring that journey, celebrating my burniversary, and stepping into my power. 🕯️✨ 1 year into my ICF coaching journey, I’m turning my story into service and proud to be a model. Here’s to turning pain into purpose. Keep Going!

01/18/2026

Growth begins with safety.
Not just physical safety, but emotional. Cultural. Relational.

When we feel seen, and are known for all we are — from the stories we carry to the core of our being— something shifts. We begin to soften. We come back to ourselves. A sense of wholeness washes over us.

Eva’s reflection speaks to that space:
“Nancy has this warmth and steady presence that makes it easy to open up and be honest with yourself… With her support, I felt safe, understood, and able to come back to myself in a really meaningful way.”

That’s the heart of this work.
Not offering advice.
But holding space.
Not telling you where to go.
But helping you hear your own voice more clearly.

Your journey deserves a witness.
Someone who honors your timing.
Someone who walks with, not ahead.

You don’t need to have it all figured out to begin. Just a desire to reconnect with yourself — and space that lets you do that, your way.

01/06/2026

My Morning Ritual – A Gentle Anchor
There was a time when my mornings felt like a race I never signed up for!
Alarms. Messages. Notifications. The sense of being behind before I started.

I didn’t realize how much that pace was shaping my day —
until I decided to start differently.
Now, I begin with stillness.
A breath.
A moment to check in with myself before the world asks anything of me.

Some mornings it’s quiet meditation.
Other times, slow movement or journaling.
It's always a moment of choosing presence.

This isn’t about having the “perfect” routine.
It’s about meeting myself where I am — honestly and with care.

A simple ritual reminds me:
I get to begin from within.
No matter what the day holds, that quiet moment stays with me.
It becomes an anchor — a grounding I can return to.

How do you start your day?
What would shift if your mornings began with intention, not urgency?

01/02/2026

Starting the Year Slowly & Intentionally

Not every year begins with clarity.
Nor does a new chapter need bold plans with a fresh list of goals.
Sometimes the most intentional way to begin… is quietly.

To let the first days of the year bring spaciousness. To notice what your body is asking for. To feel what’s true — before you shape it into something.

There’s so much language around “starting strong.”
But what if you started with some softness?

What if you gave yourself permission to ease in? To linger in reflection.
To carry forward only what feels authentic and necessary.

This season, I’m not rushing.
I’m moving at the pace of breath.
I’m listening more before planning.

Presence is enough.
Tending is enough.
Beginning slowly is still beginning.

You don’t have to be ready.
You only have to be real.
How would you begin this year if you trusted that slow was strong?

12/31/2025

12/30/2025

A journey back to myself — piece by piece.

For a long time, I shaped myself around what was needed. Mostly around what was expected.
I adapted. I adjusted. I moved and survived.

But at some point a pause came.
I asked myself a quieter question:
Who am I? What defines “me” outside
preconceived “labels” from a work place, family, etc.

This blog is a reflection on that question —
And on the winding, imperfect, beautiful path of becoming.

Not all at once.
Not for anyone else.
But slowly, intentionally…
for me.

You can read the full story on my blog. If you’re in a season of rediscovery, or simply wondering what it means to come home to yourself — this one’s for you.