Channeling Erik®
  • Death of a sibling
  • January5th2015


    Less than two years after Erik’d death, his younger sister, Annika, wrote a poignant poem for high school. Its depth belies her young age. She was only 15 years old. I’ve also included the explanation her English teacher required for the assignment. Note: “Red Hands” are a metaphor for her sense of guilt, something all too common in those who grieve. She refers to the dragonfly because that’s how Erik has come to her.

    Annika's poem and Erik's prank

    Annika Medhus



    My red hands alone cradle an empty chest.

    Skies bruise into a deep violet.

    Blackness falls from the grieving clouds.

    The soil laments for its loss.

    A palace becomes a frail shed.

    A laugh becomes a haunting scream.

    Shackles strangle the weakening flowers.

    The lost is now found as a burden set between torn wings.

    Suddenly, a light dagger releases all the drowning souls.

    Dried eyes wearily regain the sun.

    A silhouette of wings replaces the shadow of death.

    Arms of light tighten around my own.

    Dragonflies buzz wildly, whispering secrets.

    With the dust gone, never has the sun dripped in like this.

    The ground ceases to shake, waves calm to ripples.

    Omniscient water flows within thirsty veins.

    Earth blossoms when the realization is made.

    Twenty candles are still and will forever be lit.

    A brother was lost, but an angel is gained.

    My clean hands—not alone—cradle a beating heart.

    My intentions were to convey a tone of sorrow and loss but also renewal and awakening. The shift in mood contributes to the tone; for example, from red hands to clean hands represent the metamorphosis from guilt to acceptance. The image of Earth blossoming emphasizes the epiphany and the connotation between silhouette and shadow shows the difference between things that can negatively and positively loom over you. In the beginning, the lines are short and dramatic. As it progresses into a lighter tone, the sentences lengthen and flow more, representing the flow of light that is consuming the darkness. The first and last sentences show how the feeling in the poem has altered, yet both remain somewhat similar in structure to reveal the small amount grief that lingers.

    Here is a self-explanatory video of Erik’s niece, Arleen, after she was pranked by him. The cool thing is that 5 year olds usually don’t make this kind of stuff up. (I hope I haven’t already posted this! I did a search for the appropriate keywords and couldn’t find it.)

    Stay tuned soon for the last half of the Abe Lincoln’s interview.

  • September10th2012


    Before we get on to the main topic, I’d like to share a lucid dream my daughter, Michelle, had a few nights ago. For some reason these dreams aways involve her going upstairs and this one was no different. She was headed up the first short flight of stairs and saw Erik standing next to the art niche on the small landing right where the next flight of stairs takes off to the left. He was wearing a white t-shirt and shorts. She couldn’t see his feet. His eyes were the brightest green she had ever seen and the entire scene looked like it was in high definition. He wore a wide grin on his face. Michelle called out his name and ran to him. They gave each other a long, warm embrace.  Apparently I was sitting on the sofa in the den downstairs, but before Michelle could call me to come up and see him, Erik dove over the banister and did a face plant on the floor below. Then he jumped to his feet, arms outstretched, and said, “Ta da! See, I can’t get hurt!” Michelle fussed at him for scaring her, but then let out a big laugh. Then Erik cradled his arm and feigned an injury, “Ow, my arm, my arm!” Michelle went to get me, but when we both returned and looked over the banister, all that remained was a pair of red sneakers. Later that day, a family friend hurt his arm in a motorcycle mishap. Hm.

    Michelle and Erik, Always the Crazy Duo

    And now here is a message from blog member Paul Hampton Crockett in response to the post, Borderline Personality Disorder, the Soapbox Version. He describes the effect that the Channeling Erik blog has had on his life. I also  LOVE LOVE LOVE what he said about our dear Jamie. His writing flows not from the pen but from the heart. His art, like him, is truly a gift to this world.

    Hey, Elisa: What a great post. A simple and miraculous observation took shape even as I read it that I wanted to share with you. First, I thought, “How I love that woman,” meaning you. (Yet the same would be true also for Jamie, who must be one of the most gifted “translators” ever. She not only has gifts, she is a gift. What she knows about the art of making all feel welcome and co-equals “at the table,” cannot be taught. I also adore that quality of honesty so much a part of her. When she is momentarily clueless and says so, and then proceeds to explore and discover, we are all then given an opportunity to learn, along with her. She is something else!)

    What I wanted to tell you, Elisa, is that scarcely a day of my life goes by that you are not a part of, because you are so in my heart. I think of you so often it surprises me, and with greatest warmth. I feel like you know that, as I am in your heart (and it feels so GOOD to me!), but I still wanted to just say it. Because it’s the most real thing I know. Just as you are. Here’s one of my favorite ee cummings quote-lettes, which might as well have been written for you, as consolation and encouragement, but mostly in a spirit of celebration:

    “To be nobody but yourself — in a world which is doing its best,
night and day, to make you like everybody else — means to fight 
hardest battle which any human being can fight, and never stop fighting.”

    But I digress, I suppose, because I haven’t yet gotten to the observation mentioned in the first sentence above, that led me to sit down and write! And it really is quite simple. As I was reading, an awareness dawned on me about that son of yours. I thought, “He’s so real to me.” And in fact, he is part of my life in a most enriching and unusual way. He’s like a good friend (which is, to me, the most sacred thing): non-dramatic, fully present, and steadily nutritious. He is in my life. And yet he’s dead.

    And that is the heart of the miracle I wanted to stretch on out to Texas from Florida tonight, and just share with you. That truth resonated with me in a special way, because after Scott’s death, one of my most deeply sorrowful, personal, and heartfelt of lamentations was that “For the rest of my life, none of the people I will meet will ever have a chance to know him, or experience how very beautiful a soul he was.” The idea was just so sad. At the time, you see, I mistook that notion for knowledge. I know better now, but there has been something of an intense learning curve.

    Back then, the mournful thought, “self-evident,” just kept arising. Each time, it felt as sharply painful (or dully and deeply throbbing), as the first. It seemed the recurring chorus in the primal song of grief that had become my life, the crystallization of my pain. Diminishment and sorrow seemed the inescapable bookends of my destiny. Such was the cost of love, and surviving its loss.

    With the passage of time, I came to understand that Scott had by no means left anything but his body. In fact, many have come to know him quite well in the years since his death (notably including you, and Erik). Also, I have settled in to the comforting awareness that he abides in me, in much more than a merely poetic sense. And it’s probably also true, vice versa. That whole realm of experience remains hugely mysterious. The hour’s grown late, and I won’t even try to speak to that one, at the moment.

    Maybe what I am trying to say is beyond words; I’m not sure. But it has to do with the truest and most pure essence of miracle, and offers a promise of hope for those who feel broken wide open even as the winds blow, or who stagger through their endless days in a flame of sorrow that lacks the grace to consume, or who otherwise suffer unimaginable tortures with the loss of those they have so loved. What I finally learned was that death did not mean what I had thought it did, at all. If the love I held for him in my heart still overflowed in is fullness (for it is he that had taught me the lessons of Love greatest and most true); if my living Love for him had not died with him, then that was for a reason, and it was not cruel.

    So let me say, Elisa, Thank you for keeping Love alive. Thank you for being a light in the world. And may the Spirit settle gently upon us where it is most needed. May all of us find comfort according to our need, and find rest in the assurance that it is love that got us into this mess, it is love that has brought all of us together, to where we now stand, and it is somehow, some way, together that we will at last find our way Home. This damnably convincing illusion of separation shall pass away at last as a cloud, having served its purpose, and there will be celebration not even now given us to imagine, and we will feel in heart’s center, sure as we now breathe, a spirit of enduring joy. Not a single one of us shall be left “outside of the circle.” None shall be left behind.

    And, since in the realm of Spirit there is no time, perhaps it is now that we may feel the touch. Not in the poetry of some promise of future prophecy, but now. In this hour of our greatest need. Maybe we can all, each in our way yet joined in common purpose, just take a moment, be still, and breathe.

    So in that moment, right here and now, and exactly as we are, maybe beaten and bruised in our endless daily struggles, hope reduced only to a single tiny flickering flame, and far from certain, with dark despair as close upon us as our shadows, then, and even so, 
a Greater River continues to flow, of which we are all a part, and 
We are known, 
We are loved, far beyond reason or comprehension, 
and we are never, ever alone.


    Not only is Paul a talented writer and lawyer, he’s also an incredible artist who paints from the soul. Check out his masterpieces:

    Here’s one example:

  • May15th2012


    First of all, I want to thank everyone for their warm wishes and flattering comments for my daughter, Kristina and her new husband, Houston Braly. They’re on a short honeymoon in Paris and the French Riviera where the weather is now gorgeous probably having the time of their lives.

    Second, I sent all of your tributes to Jamie on Mother’s Day and she was beyond touched. What a beautiful gift you all have given her–well-deserved and incredibly poignant. I’m sure it tugged on some heartstrings. So, again, thank you so much.

    Third, Betty Daniel, along with Erik, has published Part Two of their novel, Second Chances. If you’d like a free copy, you can email her at Be sure you don’t put an “s” after daniel. That was a common mistake when she offered Part One. Also, make certain you specify whether you want Part One, Part Two or both. Thanks, Betty and Erik!

    Okay, finally to the main event today: Blog member, Michael M. sent me the most exciting link yesterday: proof that things are shifting in the right direction!

    Last, I feel compelled to share a bit more on what you all have written about what Erik means to you. I guess I’m missing him. It was hard not having him in the physical to see his big sister walk down the aisle and to share Mother’s Day with me. :(

    This is for you, Sweetie:

    Erik has given me Faith… does that even make sense? Erik has shown me Love.  Because of (you and) Erik I now can face death (others and eventually mine) with new acceptance.

    Thank you!


    Love, Sachi



    Thank you for sharing your most personal, precious and often heartbreaking experiences with everyone in order for us all to learn and grow from them. 

    I am mom to three teenagers and my youngest son’s name is Erik too!  I love and appreciate Erik’s young, fresh, honest perspective and his patience, willingness and availability to answer our questions about the aferlife as well as questions about our loved ones and the lives we are living now.  Erik is so joyful and the information he relates makes sense, it has the ring of truth, being consistent with other related material I’ve read.

    I think I saw Erik one night as I was coming out of a nap in my chair with the TV on.  I only saw his torso down.  He had his hands in his jean pockets and was wearing a red and blue checkered shirt.  just had the thought that it was him.

    I told my daughter about him and warned her that he may prank her sometime, just to give her a “heads-up”!

    The work you, Erik and Jamie are doing is truly wonderful, bringing enlightenment, hope and peace to so many.

    Thanks so much for everything!  I don’t mind if you use my name.



    You and Erik helped me with an issue that was eating me inside, terrible and embarrasing as it was… and didn`t judge me. For that I`ll always thank you both.



    I’m so glad you asked this question. Erik has actually been there for me when I needed him. When I lost my soulmate – accidental suicide OD- I was devastated. I stumbled upon this site and have never left since. That was 20 months ago. I prayed that Erik would somehow let me know this was an accident, my love was safe. I grew up with so many misconceptions about suicide and how you never make it to a peaceful afterlife. You wouldn’t believe the messages and signs I received. I talked to a physic- she said my love was with another man, someone helping him and not to worry. Everything was explained and made sense. I met Erik in a dream, sweet, concerned look on his face for me and very busy. He was moving and had a mess on his hands. I begged Erik to help my love manifest in a dream. At last, I had my last goodbye- a wonderful kiss – so real from my love. At last, closure thanks to your wonderful, heavy-hearted boy. Thank you Erik. I love you my Raymond forever.


  • October6th2011


    Please be sure to read my eldest daughter’s poignant entry in her world-renown blog, PrettyShinySparkly. Although her blog usually covers all things light and beautiful, today’s was all about her heartrending experience two years ago.

    Be sure to read the comments too.

    Kristina and Erik in Norway

    Kristina and Erik in Alaska

  • October3rd2011


    At long last, I’ve been urged (strongly) to seek treatment for my PTSD. Okay, we’re talking major arm twisting here, because I’m a typical mom who feels that everyone else’s needs must be addressed and nurtured before I tend to my own wounds. So, with five kids, a husband and friends (including cyber friends), I kept myself in the back of the line, bleeding inside.

    Looking back, I realize that I’ve had PTSD nearly all of my life.  In the simplest of terms, there are apparently two types of PTSD: The first is caused by various chronic, ongoing traumas, usually in the form of childhood abuse and neglect. The second is more acute or abrupt trauma such as combat related events, rape, or, in my case, seeing your son after he’s lost a war with a 45 caliber hollow point to the head. Some of the traumas I’ve experienced I can’t reveal here; others I’ve already shared. Suffice it to say, my life has pretty much been a string of tragedies.

    I don’t share this to invite sympathy. In fact, I don’t do well with pity. No, I share this to reveal what I know in hopes that those of you who have suffered traumas or have overt PTSD with feel connected, validated and understood. The central elements in PTSD are a sense of helplessness and hopelessness. It’s more common when the traumatic event is caused by a human (rape, war, terrorism, assault, etc.) instead of by an Act of God like a flood or tornado. It’s not just some “emotional” disorder, either. It actually causes structural changes in the brain itself.


    Symptoms of PTSD fall into three main categories:

    1. “Reliving” the event, which disturbs day-to-day activity

    • Flashback episodes, where the event seems to be happening again and again
    • Repeated upsetting memories of the event
    • Repeated nightmares of the event
    • Strong, uncomfortable reactions to situations that remind you of the event

    2. Avoidance

    • Emotional “numbing,” or feeling as though you don’t care about anything
    • Feeling detached
    • Being unable to remember important aspects of the trauma
    • Having a lack of interest in normal activities
    • Showing less of your moods
    • Avoiding places, people, or thoughts that remind you of the event
    • Feeling like you have no future

    3. Arousal

    • Difficulty concentrating
    • Startling easily
    • Having an exaggerated response to things that startle you
    • Feeling more aware (hypervigilance)
    • Feeling irritable or having outbursts of anger
    • Having trouble falling or staying asleep

    You might feel guilt about the event (including “survivor guilt”). You might also have some of the following symptoms, which are typical of anxiety, stress and tension:

    • Agitation or excitability
    •  Dizziness
    • Fainting
    • Feeling your heart beat in your chest
    • Headache
    Alcohol and substance abuse, panic attacks and depression are very common comorbid factors.
    Risk Factors
    People of all ages can have post-traumatic stress disorder. However, some factors may make you more likely to develop PTSD after a traumatic event, including:
    • Being female
    • Experiencing intense or long-lasting trauma
    • Having experienced other trauma earlier in life
    • Having other mental health problems, such as anxiety or depression
    • Lacking a good support system of family and friends
    • Having first-degree relatives with mental health problems, including PTSD
    • Having first-degree relatives with depression
    • Having been abused or neglected as a child

    Women may be at increased risk of PTSD because they are more likely to experience the kinds of trauma that can trigger the condition.

    There are many forms of therapy, but I’m going to give EMDR (Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing) a try, because apparently this has been very effective with veterans who suffer from PTSD. Check it out on this link:

    On another but related note, some of my children would like to help with the campaign to make bullying illegal: a formal offense with standards for prosecution and sentencing. Why? Because bullying is so pervasive and can have monumental effects both short and long term. PTSD can result from chronic bullying or even one instance.  Michelle suffers from PTSD from the bullying she had endured during middle school. It has affected every aspect of her life. Fortunately, she plans on joining me  in EMDR therapy. Erik was the target of endless bullying as well, and we all now the end result of his suffering. Sigh.

    So, in Erik’s memory, my kids hope to start a petition, organize various silent demonstrations in front of courthouses, create a website and Facebook page full of resources including an anonymous tip line, and more. In addition to making bullying a punishable offense, I think those who witness such events without reporting them should be considered accessories to the crime, and that includes school officials.

    Anyway, I bring this up in case any of you have suggestions for them.


  • September28th2011


    Many of you have found your way to this oasis of hope by following a trail of tears. Many of you grieve. Many of you have suffered under the heavy burden of loss. You find camaraderie here. Understanding. Unity. Friendship. Compassion. But it doesn’t replace the son, daughter, lover, friend or sibling that is no longer here to hug, kiss or annoy. I get it. I too fight every day to stay here. Part of me, a big part, wants to flee to my son, Erik’s, side. I dream about it. I fantasize about it. And then I let it go.

    Ah. But for all of you who have toyed with the idea of exiting this life early to be with a deceased loved one, I will tell you this: You’ll probably cross over and realize what a unfortunate mistake you’ve made. Not only will you want to kick your own a#%, your loved ones will line up to do the same. You’ll discover how you’ve sabotaged your own spiritual mission as well as that of countless others, some who you’ve yet to meet on the earthly plane. You’ll think: “Silly me. I made a mess of things. If only I’d had the courage and resolve to stick it out, to keep to my role in this often caustic drama. Then, I’d come back Home with a sense of spiritual accomplishment for myself and others.”

    This isn’t our true home. We are actors on a huge stage playing what roles we must to remember who and what we truly are—to spiritually evolve to but one endpoint: to become unconditional love.

    In a perfect world, every path we take should be paved with love rather than fear. Of course it doesn’t always work out that way, so if we find ourselves traveling along a road of fear, we need to stop, thank it for the lessons it had to offer, and find our way back to Love.

    So how do we fill that hole in our heart that our loved one left behind? I can tell you that no litter of puppies, no fluffy kitten, no winning lottery ticket and no new car will do. That part of us is gone, but only by temporary measure.

    Sometimes it helps me to think, “Sure, I want Erik back, but he was so unhappy here. His prospects for any kind of success, spiritual or otherwise, were grim.” So, I am happy for him. He is home. And I am proud of what he’s done and will continue to do for us in the Channeling Erik family. Every hug, every kiss, every conversation I sacrifice for his own welfare and for the greater cause that he is meant to champion. That sacrifice is not an absolute, but only a postponement until the not so distant future. A blink of an eye in the grand scheme of eternity.

    So, think of your loved one with pride and happiness. Imagine them as a beautiful rainbow of colors shining down on you, flowing into your soul. As it warms your heart, you can’t help but smile and find joy even in death. Take comfort in knowing that you will be reunited for all eternity. And given that time doesn’t exist, know that you are already there in their arms.

    Don’t forget to click on the Facebook Like and other social connect buttons on the new blog format!


  • June2nd2011


    First of all, I know we have a lot of new Channeling Erik family members since The Sheila Show interview which aired yesterday, and I want to welcome you all. I encourage you to start at the beginning of the blog and work your way through, because there’s a lot of valuable information you don’t want to miss. Also, introduce yourself through the forums. Your new siblings and I can’t wait to get to know you! Enjoy this next part of the session. I had  blast with it and hope you do as well!

    Channeling Transcript

    Me: What makes our deceased loved ones happy? What can we do to help them?

    (Pause as Erik thinks a bit)

    Erik: I got it! Live-Your-Own-Life.

    Me: Okay.

    Jamie: He’s saying it real slow like people are retarded.

    Me: Erik!

    Erik: That’s not why! I’m just trying to make a point, an important point. They’re not retarded. They’re my friends!

    Me: Oh, okay. Good, we’ll let you off the hook then.

    Erik and Jamie chuckle.

    Me: I can be a little retarded sometimes, though. So, is that it, then? Is that the only thing we can do?

    Erik: No, really. You live your own life. It’s great to include us in memories. I’m not saying they should totally make us disappear, but don’t forget to live life. Don’t live your human life based on our death or our memory. That’s horrible. It makes us sad. Like don’t buy cookies because it’s our favorite ones. That’s really nice, but let that be a memory for YOU. Don’t buy the cookies because you know we like those cookies; cuz I can get whatever fucking cookie I want any time I want.

    Jamie and I laugh.

    Me: Well, I’m sure that’s true, and you probably already have gorged on plenty of them. I wish we had the low calorie ones over here too.

    (God, I’m really starving for homemade Tollhouse chocolate cookies now. Sigh.)

    Erik: Yeah, I do eat ‘em all the time. That and ice cream!

    Me: Lucky boy. Mint chocolate chip used to be your favorite.  So what about just sending love? Does that really help the energy of our deceased loved ones?

    Erik: Okay, look. If we have a really rough passing—

    Me: Um hm.

    Erik: Okay. I was just speaking in general, across the board what makes us happy. If y’all are happy, we’re happy. Period.

    Me: Yeah.

    Erik: But if there’s a traumatic passing or a hardship right before the passing or right after, then love and attention—like in a prayer or an intent, a statement, a shout out—yeah, we absorb that and that helps us transition.

    Me: Oh yeah. I can imagine.


    Me: Okay, so Erik, a while back you were saying that the physical body is fed by the energetic body, and if we could open that up and allow more energy through, we could do amazing things—stop bullets even. Well how, Erik? Tell us! How can we open up the energetic body and allow more energy through so we can do those amazing things?

    Erik: Well, the practice of Reiki is a real basic foundation. That’s like your everyday bandaid.

    Me: Um hm.

    Erik: The practice of Reiki allows more energy in through the body. Qi Gong fine-tunes the body to allow more energy in. Um, eating healthy foods—no processed shit, no white sugar, no caffeine, no drugs or things like that—you know, nothing manmade or abnormal.

    (Of course I’m still thinking about those chocolate chip cookies so as far as I’m concerned, bullets can roam free. Someone else will have to stop them Keanu Reeves style.)

    Erik: All that shit kinda gets in there and takes away the space where energy is supposed to be.

    Me: Oh!

    Erik: Clogs it all up. See, people want to have these abilities, but they don’t want to practice the discipline that goes with it to allow that energy to move through the body.

    (Guilty. Hmm. I wonder if there’s such thing as spiritual Drano? Gotta look that up later.)

    Me: Yeah, I’m one of those.

    Erik: Well, as long as you’re happy, and—

    Me: Yeah, I’m gonna have my Latte every morning until my Tassimo machine heaves it’s last breath. Anybody try to take that away from me will draw back a bloody nub.

    Jamie (laughing): Erik’s laughing so hard! He like spreads his hand across the sky and sings out, “ADDICTION!”

    Me: I know. I know!

    We all laugh.

    Me: Oh well, I’m happy; it’s a happy addiction.

    Erik: That’s right. If your happy, then that’s all that matters. You’re in the right spot. If you’re constantly yearning for something more, then you need to learn a discipline.

    Me (singing): So, if you’re happy and you know it, clap you hands, right?

    Erik claps twice just as he would after that phrase in the preschool song.

    Me: So speaking of grade school songs, is it true about the Hokey Pokey?

    Erik: What?

    Me: Is THAT what it’s all about?

    Erik: Yep, as simple as that. That’s what everything in life and the universe is all about. I’m surprised you didn’t know that, Mom.

    We all laugh hard.


    As many of you know, the link for the live interview didn’t seem to work, and Sheila Gale sends her apologies. Here’s the link to the archive. I’m the second (and last) guest. Please be kind with your constructive criticism! (grin)


    CE member, Renuka, has a brand new blog. I encourage everyone to join (upon Erik’s insistence as well.) She channels Erik so skillfully through automatic writing, and they’ve become fast friends. Here’s her email and the link to her blog:

    Hi Elisa

    How’ve you been dear??

    I’ve been busy with Erik. He s been insisting that I send you the link to the blog. I have uploaded it recently. Also he wants you to introduce the Channeling Erik family to the blog. I am not as good as you, but you know can’t say no to Erik. I can’t tell you what a treasure he is in my life. Have come to love him soooo much. Thanx a lot for introducinng me to your wonderful son. I am forever indebted. Byeee.In a rush.Erik has given me a whole agenda and that too with a time limit.heeheee.

    Oh the link.




  • May13th2011


    To lose a loved one is pure agony. When you lose a child, your grief is compounded exponentially. When you lose that child to suicide, your grief is multiplied to unbearable levels. When that suicide is violent, you become a POW in a private war, tortured mercilessly day after day. In my desire to show solidarity to those who grieve, know I understand how drastically life changes for you and how you feel nothing will every be the same as “before.”

    After Erik’s death, friends, family and neighbors were there for us in ways that are immeasurably loving. But death is a very uncomfortable beast for most, so the calls and visits are long gone. Most of my days are spent drowning in a deep loneliness by no fault but my own. I have chosen to become a recluse. Arms that once reached out to others are now withdrawn for fear of drawing back bloody nubs. When I do venture out into the public, I fight to keep on a brave front, smiling, laughing at jokes, sharing casual stories, but I’m constantly aware of the fact that I’m hiding beneath a fragile façade. Behind the soft grin is that ever-present lump in my throat as I fight to choke back the tears. Behind the cheery exterior lurks a bottomless sense of profound sorrow that has become my constant companion. When I go to sleep, my last thoughts are that Erik is dead. When I wake up, my first thoughts are the same. Never, never is there a moment when I’m not acutely aware of my loss.

    I recoil at the thought of those “looks” from others, a mix of pity and horror. I watch the uncomfortable squirming, the shifting from one foot to another, the lack of eye contact, all part of that person’s desire to get away from me—the mother who has lost a child to a violent act of suicide. They don’t dare mention Erik’s name, and for me, that’s like watching him die again—day after day after day. In short, I feel like a leper living in a colony of one.

    You see, I do understand you. That’s why I share your pain as well. Were it not for you, my virtual friends, life would be impossible to bear. Each member in my loving family grieves in their own personal way, so sharing our sadness only opens up raw wounds, and I want be their source of support, not pain. So I’d like to thank you for giving me a safe place to vent the anguish I can’t share with friends and family, and know that this is a place that you can do the same.

    That’s why this email from Shelly, courtesy of Compassionate Friends, struck a deep chord in me. Share this with others if you can. Know that I am here for you, and I’m grateful you’re here for me.


    1. I wish you would not be afraid to speak my child’s name. My child lived and was important, and I need to hear his name.

    2. If I cry or get emotional if we talk about my child, I wish you knew that it isn’t because you have hurt me; the fact that my child died has caused my tears. You have allowed me to cry, and I thank you. Crying and emotional outbursts are healing.

    3. I wish you wouldn’t “kill” my child again by removing from your home his pictures, artwork, or other remembrances.

    4. I will have emotional highs and lows, ups and downs. I wish you wouldn’t think that if I have a good day my grief is all over, or that if I have a bad day I need psychiatric counseling.

    5. I wish you knew that the death of a child is different from other losses and must be viewed separately. It is the ultimate tragedy, and I wish you wouldn’t compare it to your loss of a parent, a spouse, or a pet.

    6. Being a bereaved parent is not contagious, so I wish you wouldn’t shy away from me.

    7. I wish you knew that all of the “crazy” grief reactions that I am having are in fact very normal. Depression, anger, frustration, hopelessness, and the questioning of values and beliefs are to be expected following the death of a child.

    8. I wish you wouldn’t expect my grief to be over in six months. The first few years are going to be exceedingly traumatic for us. As with alcoholics, I will never be “cured” or a “former bereaved parent,” but will forevermore “be a recovering bereaved parent.”

    9. I wish you understood the physical reactions to grief. I may gain weight or lose weight, sleep all the time or not at all, develop a host of illnesses, and be accident prone-all of which may be related to my grief.

    10. Our child’s birthday, the anniversary of his death, and holidays are terrible times for us. I wish you could tell us that you are thinking about our child on these days, and if we get quiet and withdraw, just know that we are thinking about our child and don’t try to coerce us into being cheerful.

    11. It is normal and good that most of us re-examine our faith, values, and beliefs after losing a child. We will question things we have been taught all our lives and hopefully come to some new understanding with our God. I wish you would let me tangle with my religion without making me feel guilty.

    12. I wish you wouldn’t offer me drinks or drugs. These are just temporary crutches and the only way I can get through this grief is to experience it. I have to hurt before I can heal.

    13. I wish you understood that grief changes people. I am not the same person I was before my child died, and I never will be that person again. If you keep waiting for me to “get back to my old self,” you will stay frustrated. I am a new creature with new thoughts, dreams, aspirations, values, and beliefs. Please try to get to know the new me-maybe you’ll like me still.

    I believe that instead of sitting around and waiting for our wishes to come true, we have an obligation to tell people some of the things we have learned about our grief. We can teach these lessons with great kindness, believing that people have good intentions and want to do what is right, but just don’t know what to do with us.

    Inspired by Tracy, I’d like to add these videos of songs by Kirsty MacColl. She died young, struck by a jet ski while swimming with her son. As Tracy says, these songs sound prophetic. They’re also sweet and lighthearted, something most of us need now. When you listen, think of someone you love that has passed on.

  • May9th2011


    Channeling Transcript

    Me: Do you have any advice to those who have lost loved ones and are just so stricken by grief?

    Erik: Remember, grief is really selfish.

    Wow, this made my heart sink, because that means I am One Selfish Bitch.

    Erik: They need to look at what part of themselves they feel is not being heard.

    Me: Oh! Hmm.

    Erik: Because if they weren’t selfish when someone died, they could understand that it was that person’s journey. It wasn’t about them.

    Me: I think a lot of them just don’t know what the transition is all about and that Home is our real reality. And even when we do, oh, how it still hurts.

    Erik: Well, I think some people get into grief, and they enjoy how people react to them, and so they play the victim to get all that pampering energy. Then they get stuck in it. Of course, others, like you, Mom, grief because you feel such love.

    (Long pause)

    Me: Yeah. Anything advice on how to manage?

    Erik: When you lose a loved one, it’s not about putting your chin up and playing tough either. Of course there are going to be moments of awareness that you’re not with them anymore. But as soon as you get there—you need to think about really where they are, because I’m telling you, we feel EVERYTHING you give out.

    Me: Mmm.

    Erik: Mom, I feel what you’re thinking about me; I feel what the neighbor up the street said about me. It gets to me. Goes straight to me. So imagine when a person dies, they lose everyone in their entire life.

    Me: Oh, yeah!

    Erik: They’ve lost it all. They’ve lost it all, and now what they get from everybody is grief. Granted there are one or two people who go, “I love you, and you’re all right,” and those words mean the world to us. I like that you do that for me, Mom.

    Me: Oh, yeah. Of course I’m happy for you. I know you were miserable here, and I’d rather you be happy all the time and me be miserable from time to time than for both of us to be miserable here because of your pain.

    Erik: Yeah cuz just imagine, Mom. You’re dead and you feel like shit cuz everybody’s grieving, and you feel everyone’s sorrow.

    Me: Oh, how awful.

    Erik: And then you have to work extra hard not to make them cry. You find out right when you get next to them, they feel you and it triggers them to fall apart. You feel like you’re cursed in a way. I’ve seen it play out again and again and again.

    Me: Yeah, absolutely.

    (Somber pause as I feel extra sorry for my baby boy. Sigh.)

    Me: How do you multitask so well, Erik? I can’t imagine how you can listen to everybody, hearing their thoughts, their feelings. Oh my god.

    Erik: I know, I know, it’s totally crazy! But it’s not like we do it in the human sense. The messages don’t line up so you get one at a time like on an answering machine. It just breezes right through your body, your spirit body, and you know exactly what it is.

    Me: It’s like on Bruce Almighty where the guy, you know, Jim Carrey, gets all those instant messages on his computer from everyone in the world. It gets to be too much for him!

    Jamie: Bruce Almighty, that’s right.

    Me: So it’s not like that, then.

    Erik: Yeah, they don’t just line up and wait for ya.

    Me: Yep. Okay, what about advice for those considering suicide. We’ve talked about this before, but it’s been quite a while ago, because you know you paint a pretty picture of the afterlife. You make dying seem fun.

    Jamie: He does.

    Me: I know.

    Erik: Oh, it’s not all milk and cookies.

    Me: No.

    Erik: It’s like, if you’re a dick—

    Jamie giggles with embarrassment at having to translate this.

    Jamie: God, Erik!

    Erik: If you’re a dick, and you die because you’re a dick, you’re gonna wake up dead as a dick.

    Me: Oh yeah, okay. Not getting a pretty visual, but go ahead.

    Erik: You’re gonna have to work through your own shit. Now there are those cases where someone commits suicide, and they did it NOT as a last resort. Not to be punny, but they jump the gun.

    Me: Oh boy. Okay.

    Erik: And in those cases where they just gave up, surrendered and left, there are all these people left on earth who are meant to interact with them. That’s when the suicide soul has to figure out a way to connect with all the people who are alive and still get them to meet that mark that they would have if the suicide soul was still living.

    Me: Exactly. The spiritual contract still has to play out.

    Erik: You have to play ‘em. You have to keep ‘em, and do you know how hard that is? They thought it was hard when they were alive? Just screw that. It’s way more difficult when you’re dead.

    Me: Yeah, but what’s it to them? They could say, “Eh, who cares. If the contracts don’t get honored, we’ll just do it next time.” I mean, a lifetime is just a blink of the eye from the perspective of an eternal soul.

    Erik: No, no. They have to complete things first before there’s a next time.

    Me: Okay, so if a person feels such hopelessness that they’re considering suicide, how do they hold on?

    Erik: They who? The dicks?

    Me: Yeah, or anyone in that dark place. Now, I’m not talking about the rare ones like you where suicide is part of their destiny or the ones who are terminally ill or the ones where it’s a real exit point for them.

    Erik: So, you’re talking about the ones who jump the gun?

    Me: Yeah, them. How can they hold off?

    Erik: Well, there’s not really gonna be a straightforward answer across the board, but the best thing to do is—you tell people when they’re sitting at that moment before they swallow those pills or jump off the chair or pull the trigger, they have to think. They have to be able to—

    (Long pause)

    Jamie: Hold on. I’m trying to get him to say it in one sentence.

    (Long pause)

    Jamie: He kind of rambled around.


    Erik: They have to be able to accept the responsibility of leaving. It’s just that simple. And if there’s any doubt or hesitation—even a tiny, tiny bit—that’s when you know they’re going to soon. They need to stay.

    Jamie (to Erik): So you can base it on the feeling of doubt?

    Erik: Yes. That’s the one emotion I can think about, because a lot of people get there, and then they say, “Well, I don’t REALLY want to die, but I really wanna piss off Christine. I want Christine to suffer, so I’m just gonna go ahead and do it.” But if they themselves have doubt, that’s called jumping the gun.

    Me: Wow. Did you have doubts seconds before?

    Erik: No. I tried before and I had doubts, but not this time.

    Oh, how I wish he had had strong doubts, enough to ease off the pressure on that trigger and come to me for help.

    Erik: And I can’t tell you how many people knock themselves off and think, “Holy shit. What the hell did I do that for? Dammit, now I just have to do this all over again!” Denise went through that.

    Me: That’s true. After she died, I channeled her through Kim O’Neill, and she was pissed at herself for committing suicide.

    Erik: Yep. Without fail, suicides come here feeling totally embarrassed, cuz they see how the earthly plane is just a freaking school play, and they were only playing a role.

    Me: It’s so hard to see the forest from the trees when your knee-deep in drama, though.

    Erik: Yeah, but all they do is add more drama in their wake. And they have to suffer along with the ones who are in grief. It’s not easy. But one day, humans will see death differently. They’ll see it for what it really is—a stage exit you go through after you play your part.




  • March18th2011


    Good news, I’m out of my robe! (grin) I want to thank all of you for the soothing words and insight you provided when I was feeling so low yesterday. I have days like that every once in a while, but I rarely write about them because I know I’m not alone when in comes to grief. My grief, my loss doesn’t deserve any special attention over another’s. However, lately, my guides have been nudging me to share—not to wallow in a little pity party or to garner sympathy, but to help others who grieve connect so they won’t feel so alone.

    I say this now, because I don’t want anyone to think my motives were ever self-serving. Ugh, that would sabotage the entire purpose of our blog. After all, I can be miserable all by myself just fine. No, the aim here is to help each other raise our vibrations and, in the case of grief, that entails a sense of unity, a sense of spiritual purpose, and a sense of encouragement and support rather than the darker energies like pity and sorrow.

    This blog is for healing others, not for satisfying my own selfish needs. No one intimated selfish motives on my part, but I just want to make sure you all know where I stand. Even in my parenting books, I try to teach mothers and fathers to avoid pitying their child, particularly those with disabilities or other challenges. To pity is to send the message that you don’t have faith in that person to overcome, to prevail. That said, I would like us to make every effort to champion the side of higher vibrations over lower ones. Love trumps fear every time!

    I also would like to thank Shannon from the bottom of my heart for the amazing phone session she conducted yesterday to help volunteers unblock energy related to feeling unworthy of unconditional love and abundance, financial or otherwise. Hopefully, she’ll soon offer private and semi-private sessions for blog members. Shannon, you’re a saint. I will post the audio recordings of the session this weekend.

    Channeling Transcript

    Me: Now, how do you manifest, Erik, and come into our dreams, etc. What’s the procedure you use?


    Me (in jest): Do you just grit your teeth, clench your fists and bear down?

    Jamie starts howling in laughter.

    Jamie (still laughing): Erik! (To me) Erik pulls up his jeans to show me some glittery shoes, you know, red glittery shoes and he says (in a high pitched little-girl voice), ‘I just click my heels together three times!’

    Jamie and I both laugh hysterically. This is soooo Erik!

    Jamie: You’re such a ham, Erik!

    Me: Oh my god, he’s in rare form today, isn’t he?

    Erik: Ha! I don’t do anything. With dreams, you come to us.

    Me: Huh? But—

    Erik: Yeah, because you’re leaving your body behind, your higher vibration of self is extended beyond your body, and that’s a meeting place where we can interact. This is why some dreams are so lifelike and real. You actually are playing them out. We’re meeting and interacting just like we do on earth, just in a different place and without our bodies.

    Me: Oh, I wish I was better at doing that!

    Erik: And then there are some dreams that are just extraordinarily creative. That’s when you have dreams that are almost logical. They’re in the head. There’s not that extension beyond the body. I say logical, but of course they can be total freaking fantasy, off the wall shit.

    Me: Well, my dreams are sometimes really mundane, like unloading the dishwasher, so I guess I’m a real bore!

    Erik: There are different levels of dreams, Mom.

    Me (chuckling): I know, I know. Can we go somewhere else besides, um, I mean, I know we can travel on the earthly plane in our dreams and in the afterlife dimension, but can we travel to other dimensions in our dreams too?

    Erik: Oh, yeah, sure! And some people do, but they don’t really understand what they’re doing and why it is.

    (I know I could delve deeper into this subject, but with only ten minutes or so left in the session, I feel compelled to move on. This sounds like a subject to be addressed in the future when Erik has had a chance to learn a great deal more.)

    Me: Okay. Now, what do we look like to you, Erik?  Do you see me, for example, just like you used to see me when you were still in the physical or do you see our bodies and also the shimmery part of us at the same time, or do we just look like big ol’ mud blobs?

    Jamie: His first response was, “Chess pieces.”

    Me: Oh!

    Erik: Solid, heavy, dense.

    Me: Some of us denser that others, I guess!

    Erik: But at the same time, I can just slightly look a different way at you and see all of your meridians, your energy waves, your chakras, your light, everything.

    Me: Hm!

    Erik: So, for us, it’s just the focus of how we look at you.

    Me: That would be an interesting thing for a spiritual entity like you—well, not you, because you already have the life’s work you’re doing over there—but it’d be cool for a spiritual being to assist people on earth by looking at their meridians and charkas so they can say, “Hey, you gotta problem in this area here; this needs to be done,” etc. Or they could even help with the energy healing, sort of behind the scenes in their different dimension. I wonder if there are any spirits who do that.

    Erik: Oh, Mom, there are thousands of ‘em! Thousands!

    Me: How cool!

    Erik: Yeah, there are massage therapists that get messages all the time, for instance.

    Me: Oh, okay, so it’s like channeled from spiritual healers to incarnate healers?

    Erik: Yeah, but there are also hands-on healers, psychic surgeons, and even regular surgeons that work from our dimension directly with patients.

    Me: Ooo, I read this book Dan gave me called Arigo, Psychic Surgeon. It takes place in Brazil. It’s an amazing and true story about a poor peasant who heals thousands of people from all over the world when a deceased German surgeon melds with his spirit. He’d cut out cataracts without anesthesia and stuff like that, and the patient wouldn’t feel a thing. I could spend the rest of the hour talking about that whole story, but…

    Now, enjoy this sweet little song by Just Jack that Tracy turned me on to. I tried to find it in iTunes so I could have it on my iPhone, but came up with zilch, dammit! You MUST watch it more than once to notice some key things.

    Just Jack – The Day I Died on MUZU.


  • March17th2011


    Happy St. Patrick’s Day, everyone, Irish or otherwise. Let’s send some of our luck wrapped in love and light to the folks in Japan and all those brave men and women there to help. Blog member, Shawna, sent me the most recent Divine Openings newsletter, and one section in particular really struck a chord. I’d like to share it with all of you too:

    There are two ways you can help the Japanese after the Tsunami. The first is non-physical: Do not call them victims. There are no victims anywhere, only those who are not yet fully aware. See only solutions and possibilities, and keep your vibration as high as you can. That’s the way The Presence sees it. Intend not to dip into the lower emotions about it, which only adds to the lower vibration and actually impedes recovery. 

    This paragraph has completely shifted my paradigm about disasters and victimhood in general. I used to think that the pity and empathic sadness I felt for those enduring struggles, disasters or tragedies was a noble thing, but no. I was wrong. It’s hard to separate the pity from feelings of compassion, but it can and should be done. The fear I once attached to my outpouring of love for victims must be replaced by love and a positive outlook that, in the end, everything and everyone turns out to be just fine. Now, I feel I can truly help in a spiritual way.

    The last couple of days, I’ve been going through a bit of a rough patch. As I sit here on the couch typing away, I realize that I’m still in my robe. That might not seem odd to you, but it’s nearly noon here, and I just don’t do the whole “robes at noon” thing. Of course this is the nature of the beast that is grief. I usually scamper furiously in my little hamster wheel, then stop and fall off a cliff. Waves of grief are like pressure relief valves that prevent us from being eaten up from the inside out. What bothers me the most lately is how all of the other family members don’t seem to talk about Erik like I do. No one says, “I miss Erik,” or “Remember the time when he did such and such,” or “I wish he was here enjoying this day with us.” It’s like he’s invisible in our family, or worse–it’s like he’s vanished from our lives forever. For me, thoughts of Erik consume every idle moment, perhaps because I’m afraid to lose him again. After all, those thoughts, those memories are all I have left of him, tangibly speaking. Of course everyone grieves differently. I know that. But I feel really lonely sometimes being the only one who grieves so opening. And as the months pass, I think, “Geez, shouldn’t I feel better now?” But I don’t, so that makes me wonder if I’ll ever “get over this” or if I’m just plain nuts. That in and of itself is depressing. I can’t bear the thought of Erik disappearing from the hearts of  Medhus family.

    Channeling Transcript

    Me: Let’s see if you have additional information for this question, Sweetie. When do souls enter the body, at conception, at birth, or one of the above?


    Jamie (giggling): He said, “D, all of the above!”

    Jamie and I both laugh hard.

    Erik: It’s some spirits’ lesson to start from the beginning to transition into the cellular development of a fetus.

    Me: Okay.

    Erik: So their process starts long before conception.

    Me: Oh, wow!

    Erik: Yeah, because they have to work their way down, um, work their vibration down to a human vibration, a cellular vibration. It’s very pure, very clean, but it’s a hard achievement. Most spirits I’ve seen ride sidesaddle.

    Jamie giggles hard at Erik’s description.

    Jamie: That’s such a funny visual. He says they ride sidesaddle on the belly until the baby is, um—not fully developed, but mostly developed, so that the spirit can merge.

    Erik: There are rare occasions when the baby is born and the spirit is not fully attached, but that can happen.

    Me: Interesting!

    Erik: But mostly, um—

    (Long pause. I guess at this point, Erik has decided not to finish his sentence. That pesky ADHD must cross over with us!)

    Me: So I guess it can happen any time during that process. So when they’re babies, can they just come in and out of the body, you know, whenever they want?

    Erik: Yes, as babies, as infants. What we call “dream state” where you can change your focus and just project your imagination, your intent—

    Me: Uh huh.

    Erik: That’s an out of body experience for a child. They can go in and out of the body much easier than a teenager or an adult can. Then, when people get really, really old, a lot of times they can do that same thing a lot easier than they could before.

    Me: It’s like they’re gearing up to go Home.

    Erik: Yeah, something like that.


    Don’t forget the call tonight! See yesterday’s entry for the details!



  • March16th2011


    Here’s a very important reminder from Shannon:

    I’ll be doing the ‘Releasing Blocks’ call on Thursday, March 17, 5:00 p.m. Pacific Time (and Arizona), 6:00 p.m. Mountain Time, 7:00 p.m. Central Time, 8:00 p.m. Eastern time.  Google ‘United States Time Zones’ if you’re not sure which zone you are in.

    Call in info:  (218) 632-9896, Passcode:  171474#



    By the way, I channeled Erik a few days ago, and he made a comment about the challenges we live through here on the earthly plane: the troubles at work, the difficulties with our various relationships, the feelings of depression or loneliness, the grief over the loss of our loved ones, and so on. To paraphrase, he said that once we cross over, we’ll see just how trivial all our struggles actually were. Those dragons we try to slay every day are tiny gnats swarming around our faces. And we will laugh, lovingly, at how caught up we were in all the drama. Even the deaths. Even the heartbreaks. Even the financial ruin. Even the disabling illnesses. When the curtain falls and the school play is finished, we’ll realize how deep into character we were when we played those roles in that hellish plot. In the end, the illusion fades and everything will be just fine. So, maybe we should work on shifting our perception now. Why wait until we cross over to realize just how unimportant our troubles are in the glorious grand scheme of things? I know it sounds like it’s easier said than done, but perhaps it’s the heaviness of the drama that leads us to believe such an obstacle is insurmountable. Maybe we should just try and see what happens. Are you game?

    Channeling Transcript

    Me: Okay, we’ve covered this before, but let’s see if you have anything else to share. Do souls ever die? So they join the Source Energy when they’re fully evolved and, if so, do they lose their personality and individuality? From what I understand, they don’t lose any of that; they just gain the collective consciousness, right?

    Erik: Yeah, they don’t really lose their self-identity. There’s no loss.

    Me: Okay.

    Erik: There’s only gain. If they want to walk back to God Source, they relinquish their right to be a reincarnating soul. They’re a part of the Source.

    Me: The collective pool.

    Erik: Yes.

    Me: Can they change their mind?

    Erik: Sure, nothing is permanent here. Free will reigns throughout.

    Me: Okay, that’s comforting. Um, here’s another one a lot of people seem to ask. What’s the difference between ghosts and spirits?

    Jamie laughs at Erik.

    Erik: You know this one, Mom!

    Me: I know, but I have to have it in your words for the book!

    Erik: Ghosts are the souls who don’t transition into a higher dimensional plane. They stay in third dimension realm.

    Me: Is that an inferior state, like, “I’m so confused; I wanna stay here,” or is it all about free will and some souls just like to hang out on the earthly plane?

    Erik: Well, that’s the whole big thing people like to call hell. It’s the furthest separation you can get from God Source. Home base.

    Jamie (giggling): Oh I like that, “That’s the furthest you can get from home base.”

    Me (in jest): So we ARE living in hell! I knew it! I knew it!

    Erik: No, we’re closer to Source while we’re in human form. When we leave this realm and become a spirit but choose not to transition and stay on earth, that’s actually further from Source.

    Me: Oh, wow.

    Erik: There’s much more despair.

    Me (somberly): Yeah. That’s awful.

    Erik: Because there’s no excuse, Mom. When you’re stuck in a human body, you can talk yourself through how awful it can be being in a body, how you can’t be Home—

    Me: Yeah.

    Erik:—How you can’t transition into Heaven. So, humans can get that spiritual depression that comes from being stuck. But ou can’t have that spiritual depression when you’re a ghost. A soul is what’s in the human body. A ghost is a soul that’s outside the human body but hasn’t transitioned. A spirit is a soul that’s transitioned Home. Now a spirit can come to visit on the earthly plane, but they’ve already transitioned Home. Like me, I come to visit you and Robert and Jason and a bunch of the others who are part of the blog.

    Me: Ah, I see. But aren’t there entities that help these ghosts transition?

    Erik: Yes, but we can only help if they’re asking for it. They have to be open to it, and that takes a higher vibrational level than what they have at that moment.

    Me: Okay, so it’s that whole narrow belief system you talked about before. You can’t get into that dense energy.

    Erik: Yeah, and it gets heavier and darker when you die and choose not to leave. Because some of them can only focus on that one moment when they died, and they’ve forgotten all else. Or they can only focus on their wife, then their wife passes away and they’re stuck on their wife. It’s about focus, narrow focus. That’s why it’s important for people to encourage their deceased loved ones to go ahead and transition. Don’t worry, cuz they can always come back, and they will. You know, lot’s of humans help do this when they’re asleep. They help their loved ones transition. It can be loved ones from this life of someone else in their soul group that’s been living in another family. Hell, it can be anyone. Some people are really good at helping souls transition, and they do it in sleep when they’re in a body or they also do it when they’re in spirit.

    Me: That’s so cool!



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