Channeling Erik®
  • Grief
  • September14th2015

    A blog member sent me this today, and I thought it was so powerful that it deserved its own post. I hope it helps each of us see just how precious life and the human experience is. I wish Erik had read this when he was alive.
    The Morning After I Killed Myself
    by Meggie Royer

    The morning after I killed myself, I woke up.

    I made myself breakfast in bed. I added salt and pepper to my eggs and used my toast for a cheese and bacon sandwich. I squeezed a grapefruit into a juice glass. I scraped the ashes from the frying pan and rinsed the butter off the counter. I washed the dishes and folded the towels.

    The morning after I killed myself, I fell in love. Not with the boy down the street or the middle school principal. Not with the everyday jogger or the grocer who always left the avocados out of the bag. I fell in love with my mother and the way she sat on the floor of my room holding each rock from my collection in her palms until they grew dark with sweat. I fell in love with my father down at the river as he placed my note into a bottle and sent it into the current. With my brother who once believed in unicorns but who now sat in his desk at school trying desperately to believe I still existed.

    The morning after I killed myself, I walked the dog. I watched the way her tail twitched when a bird flew by or how her pace quickened at the sight of a cat. I saw the empty space in her eyes when she reached a stick and turned around to greet me so we could play catch but saw nothing but sky in my place. I stood by as strangers stroked her muzzle and she wilted beneath their touch like she did once for mine.

    The morning after I killed myself, I went back to the neighbors’ yard where I left my footprints in concrete as a two year old and examined how they were already fading. I picked a few daylilies and pulled a few weeds and watched the elderly woman through her window as she read the paper with the news of my death. I saw her husband spit tobacco into the kitchen sink and bring her her daily medication.

    The morning after I killed myself, I watched the sun come up. Each orange tree opened like a hand and the kid down the street pointed out a single red cloud to his mother.

    The morning after I killed myself, I went back to that body in the morgue and tried to talk some sense into her. I told her about the avocados and the stepping stones, the river and her parents. I told her about the sunsets and the dog and the beach.

    The morning after I killed myself, I tried to unkill myself, but couldn’t finish what I started.

    Wow. On another note, I have two live shows today:

    Mind Matters with Ajayan Borys

    Airs LIVE HERE at 3:30-4:00 PM CT on KKNW alternative talk radio 1150 AM, Seattle

    Additional details HERE with Kathleen Martin

    Airs LIVE HERE 7:00 PM – 8:00 PM CT

  • July28th2015


    Wow, I sure did get a lot of positive feedback about the Chaga mushroom tea. A lot of you want to know the products I bought. Here they are: 

    Salem Botanical Chaga Tea (cup a day)

    Mushroom Science Chaga capsules (two a day)

    Maine Chaga Face and Body Cream by My Berry Organics (morning and night)

    I just ordered the extract version of the above and will apply that before I apply the cream. It received rave reviews from customers. I hear it’s great for skin cancers and other dermatological conditions. No substitute for your healthcare provider’s advice, though! 

    Enjoy the final part on Erik’s series about grief.

    Me: I had that same problem where I had to go through that day when I, you know, found out you shot yourself; I had to run upstairs to see you. I had this compulsion to talk about it and go through the details. You don’t want to go through those details with anybody! That’s tough. That’s a tough one to lay on somebody—going through all of the emotions, the pain, the sights, the sounds, the smells.

    After all, they’re very graphic and disturbing.

    Erik: If you feel your friends are not in that place where you can do that, then you need to find a therapist or you need to find a grievers’ group where you can get it outside of you. You can’t keep these things inside. They get bigger and heavier, and they do change the energetic quality in your body. That’s why it makes it difficult for us to communicate while we’re grieving or while we’re below par.

    Me: That was my next question. So many people get signs or feel the presence of the spirit [of the deceased loved one] but for some reason, those in deep grief don’t, and those are the people who need it the most.

    Jamie (laughing): He goes, (in a suspicious, inquiring tone) “Or are they?”

    Jamie: He goes like this. (She puts the tip of her index finger to the corner of her mouth, Dr. Evil style.)

    Erik: Those who are in deep grief and are not coming out of it, they’re using a sabotage technique in a way. They’re proving to themselves that we’re really dead and that there are no options. By doing that, they stay in hard grief. They stay in hard denial that there can be an opportunity for new relationship with their loved one.

    Me: Is there any, I don’t know, energetic reason why we don’t get, uh, for example, I didn’t get any signs from you, Erik, for a long time until my grief lifted a little bit. Is the energy too dense, or… Walk me though that.

    Erik: When you are in hard grief, we can leave a thousand messages for you and you’ll never be able to pick up a single one of them. That’s just what it is. They don’t translate easily through that [dense] vibrational pattern. Sometimes we can get into your subconscious because when you’re asleep, your grief lightens and we can come into a dream. If you’re asleep and your grief is lighter, then obviously that’s something you can do in your conscious life.

    Me: And realizing that, you know, we always say that we’ve “lost” somebody, but they’re really not “lost.” They just don’t have a body. They’re the same, right?

    Erik: Yes. You didn’t lose anybody. Death is a transition, and—

    Jamie: Oh, he’s going through a bunch of other words.

    Erik: Losing someone needs to be taken out [of our vocabulary.] Nobody’s lost. I didn’t lose myself. In fact, I found myself even more. We don’t “deal” with grief. Grief isn’t some negative thing.

    I beg to differ. But then Erik always insists that there is no positive and negative. Everything is just a beautiful lesson.

    Erik: It’s a process that helps you shift gears into a new understanding and a new relationship. Some people take 30 minutes to go through it; some people take 30 years. Whatever works for you. Timing isn’t the issue. “Trying.” “Trying to understand.” I call bullshit on that one, too. “Trying” means your hitting the same way, the same topic again and again and again and again and again, and it’s not working. You could be doing something different. “doing” something different not “trying” something different. And if you feel like you’re listening to all of this and you’re trying these techniques and you’re getting mad at people because they’re giving you advice and all you can think is, “I’ve done that before and it didn’t work.” “I did that before and it didn’t work.” You’re mad at the world because it’s giving you opportunity but you’re saying, “There is no hope.” The responsibility is on you. It’s totally on you, and you gotta have a come to Jesus moment when you say—in an extremely honest moment—that you’re sabotaging yourself and keeping yourself in a grief process because you “lost” somebody. You did. Then you’ll start to recognize that it wasn’t your fault that they died. It was cancer. It was an accident. It was a suicide. It was something. You didn’t pull the trigger; you didn’t run them over with the car; you didn’t give them the cancer. You have to relinquish that you were responsible and that you were only a witness. You have to recognize that you loved that person so much, but you had no power to help them to live. That’s very difficult to get over sometimes. Then you have to recognize that they didn’t leave you 100%. There are still opportunities to stay engaged with them. You have to figure out what that looks like for you within your belief system, within your religious structure or spiritual structure. A lot of times, people can’t do that for themselves. They have to rely on a community. Then you have to reach out and look at it. But if you are stuck, stuck, stuck, stuck even though you’re doing everything that everybody says, you’ve got to point the finger at yourself and ask, “Why is this serving me so well?” “Why am I staying in this place?” “Why is this good for me?”

    Me: Why do some people do that, though? In what way could it serve some people?

    Erik: Well, if you stay in grief, traditionally our culture pities you. “I’m so sorry for you. Can I bring you a meal? Can I do this for you?” People show help and pity, and sometimes, to a griever, it feels very good. What if they’re healthy after this? All that might go away. Maybe they’re 80 years old and have lost their husband, and if they stop bringing by the meals and everything, then what do they have left? They’re at home, alone.

    Me: TV dinners.

    Erik: Yes, and that’s when you gotta say, “Wait a second. That’s not really the truth. I could invite them over for dinner. I could say, “I don’t like eating alone.” I could choose to go to a restaurant. I could choose to join a group of people who do dinners out.” There are so many opportunities, but we paint ourselves into a corner, and sometimes that’s where we feel we need to stay to get what we want. Get over it!

    Jamie winces at his bluntness.

    Me: Okay. Along the same lines, I know what it feels like to lose somebody to suicide, and I wouldn’t wish that on anybody. So I was wondering, how do you help somebody who’s suicidal?

    (Long pause)

    Jamie covers the lower part of her face with her hand, then pulls at an imaginary beard like a stuffy professor.

    Jamie: He has his hand up on his face.

    Erik: Good question, Mom. Good question.

    Me: I try.

    Yes, I do have my moments.

    Erik: There are two types of suicidal people. There are the ones who shout out that they want to kill themselves. “Oh, I just wanna die. I wanna die. I don’t want to stay here.” Normally, the one who talks about it freely really isn’t interested in the actual act of suicide, but they do want whatever they’re into to be completely over. Gone. They’re really asking for help. Let’s say you put them on suicide watch. Yeah, I get that. That’s a protocol, but they really need help changing what’s in their life more than being watched so they don’t kill themselves. We need to help them reconnect to life again and [to figure out] what they want out of it, because if they keep talking about it, and they want to go but they’re not going to do the action, then there’s still something good in it for them. So let’s help them live and open up again. Then there are those who don’t ever talk about it. They don’t even mention that they’re sad. They don’t even mention that they want to go, and they leave. These are the quiet suicides where people had no idea that this was coming or that they were suffering or hurting. Because you don’t know, how can you help? You should treat everybody just the same. We’re all in the boat together, and asking people how they feel instead of what they think, that’s a life jacket right there in the middle of the ocean. We don’t give a lot of places to open up and talk about how we’re feeling. “How are you?” That’s really an emotional question, but in our culture, we’re trained to respond with—what is it, Mom?

    I fumble on this one.

    Erik: How are you?

    Me: Yeah, what are you talking about?

    Erik: “I’m fine.”

    Me: Oh yeah. I see. Knee jerk reaction.

    Erik: Yes. The knee jerk reaction. It’s not working for us. There is a lot of energy changing in the world today. The Earth’s energy is changing, and, with that, many people can’t connect to the new vibration. They can’t connect to this “Shift” if you want to call it that. So they’re just going to be checking out because [they feel like] they no longer fit. We just have to accept that this is okay. If we didn’t know they needed help and then they committed suicide, the first thing you should go to is not, “They didn’t trust me enough, or, “They didn’t rely on me enough as a mother, father, sister, best friend, family member, aunt, counselor, whoever,” but that they knew the best answer for them was this. It takes a lot of strength and a lot of guts to follow through.

    I can’t imagine what it took for Erik to pull that trigger.

    Erik: It’s not a weak man’s path. So we need to accept that since they’ve done this without our knowledge, it’s what they wanted. It’s not about us.


    Jamie: He’s up again walking and talking.

    Me: Okay. Is there anything you can tell parents who have, or anybody who’s lost a loved one—“lost!”—whose loved one has transitioned due to suicide? That’s so taboo. That’s a different kind of grief.

    Erik: Why, because it was their choice and not an accident?

    Me: Yeah.

    Erik: Or it was parent and child? I don’t know. You tell me.

    Me: I’m just saying that the grief from having someone transition due to suicide is different. Suicide is such a taboo thing.

    Erik: It’s extremely taboo because we look at it as, “That person really didn’t care for what they had in their life, and they just checked out. You obviously weren’t good enough for them. You didn’t teach them well enough, or they were ungrateful. They were broken.” That’s such bullshit.


    Jamie (smiling): Say that again, Erik.

    Erik: The end goal in life isn’t living to a ripe old age.


    Jamie: Please say the other part again.

    Erik: The end goal isn’t living to a ripe old age. The end goal is achieving everything that you desired to do. Some of us know what our natural out is, and suicide should be seen as a natural out. Words to whoever has handled the suicide whether it’s a parent, grandparent, another family member or even the best friend, the wife: Take great solace in knowing that in the quality of love for them, the kind of attention and love that you gave to them, they didn’t take that an translate it into the power to leave this world. That’s not the motivator. It’s not about you. Take great—

    Jamie: Say that word again? (To me) It’s weird. When he gets deep, he’s not as loud as he normally is. His voice gets lower almost like a little bit of a mumble in a way.

    Erik: Just take great solace in knowing that you got to be a part of their life and that they, the person that left, were able to know when their days were over. I don’t know what else to say because like everything else we talk about, Mom, [every case] is uniquely different.

    Me: Yeah.

    Erik: We can talk about suicide, but there are so many different reasons for why we come to the decision of suicide. Every single one of them is…

    Jamie: He fades off.

    Me: I think you’ve covered it very well. We can close there. Thank you, Erik. Thank you, Jamie. Very enlightening.

    And sobering.

    How Grief Works

    How Grief Works

  • July27th2015


    I had such a great weekend at Lake LBJ. Curiously enough, we didn’t get on the lake at all. It was very hot, but bearable because it wasn’t very humid. We visited a couple of wineries for tastings and experienced some very interesting reds. The Texas Hill Country is known for its wonderful wines, both whites and reds. I’ll turn our escapades into a YouTube and post it soon. 

    Y’all, I’m totally into Chaga mushrooms now. Don’t worry. I’m not tripping. These are mushrooms that grow on the bark of birch trees in the circumpolar regions of the world like Siberia and Northern China. Guess what you can also find there. Really, really, really old people who drink tea made from the mushrooms. It’s anti-aging properties are very powerful. That’s because it’s got the highest antioxidant rating of anything known on this planet. For example, acai berries have an ORAC index of 800. Green tea has one around 1100. Chaga mushrooms have one of 37,000! So I take the capsules and a cup of the tea every day. It’s so freaking hot here that I make it iced tea. So far, after just a week, my sense of well-being has improved. I’m also using Chaga mushroom face and body cream. It’s early yet, but my skin already feels and looks better. 

    Another cool thing is that Chaga mushrooms have powerful anti-tumor properties. Some oncologists are using it on their melanoma patients. Sloan Kettering-Memorial Hospital even has it’s own page about Chaga mushrooms on its website. They also use it against psoriasis with excellent results. If you’re interested, do a search. I get all my stuff on Amazon. 

    By the way, I think I’ve been posting too many Erik Encounters. I’m going to limit them to the weekends and include only the ones that hold the most interest. Hope you guys agree! 

    Okay, enough of the commercial! Let’s talk about grief. 

    Me: In the years after you died, Erik, my grief was just horrible, so what can we do to help people understand how to deal with their grief?

    Jamie: He’s acting very suave. He sits down, puts his arms on the chair and says,

    Erik: Okay. There are a few things that we can go ahead and change. The words around grief. How do we “deal” with grief? Dealing with something. We only deal with something we don’t like. We handle it. We deal with it.

    Me: Nobody likes grief! It’s horrible!

    Erik: But Mom, the more you’re not accepting it, the longer it has to boil up inside of you for you to really make peace with it. So let’s not “deal” with it anymore. Let’s get into it. Let’s absorb it so that when it wafts over you—

    Jamie: Is that a word?

    Me: Waft? Yes.

    Jamie (smiling): I don’t use that word!

    Erik: When it comes over you—it could be when you’re at the grocery story. It could be the first day that you decide to leave your house after your loved one has passed, and you think you’re totally fine, but then you get out of your car and go into the grocery store and BOOM, it hits you. Don’t deal with it and kind of button it up and make your way through the day. Feel it right then and there. March your ass back to the car, get inside and have your moment with grief, collect yourself and go back in. I don’t know why our culture always has to put grief under a fucking blanket like you can never come out publically with it. “Oh, leave them alone. They’re grieving.” Fuck that! That’s the last moment you should leave someone alone.

    Me: Exactly.

    Erik: You go to them, and it’s not like they need anything from you. So when you’re accepting your grief and someone comes up to you, what do they do? They pretty much add to your fucking grief. They use words like, (in a voice conveying pity) “I’m so sorry. Oh, I’m just so worried about you, and I’m sorry.” That shit needs to stop, people. When you see somebody grieving, you can go to them and say, “Oh my gosh. Watching you like this, I can feel it, and my heart’s breaking with yours. How can I be here for you?” And listen to the person that’s grieving because most of the time it’s, “Be around me, but don’t say anything. Stay with me, but don’t judge me. Don’t tell me that in three days it’ll get better. Don’t tell me that this will come and go for my entire life because it’s a bit of an unknown.” If you’re processing the grief as it’s coming to you, in general, you’re not going to have the same experience as other people. It’s an emotion that you add to your bucket of emotions. It is going to come and go, but it’s not going to consume your life. But the way our culture views grief right now, you’re taught to use it to allow it to consume you, that you’re damaged and you’ll never get that dead person back, that there’s no such thing as having a new relationship [with him or her.] Everything has changed. Everything. Bury it.

    Me: You can come up to people and talk to them like you said, but a lot of them dismiss it with, “Oh no. I’m fine. It’ll be okay.”

    I put up a brave front like that.

    Erik: That’s the “dealing” part, isn’t, Mom? “I’m fine.”

    Me: So what can you tell people to help them open up to those who are trying to comfort them?

    Erik: If you’re the grieving one, and you’re being—

    Jamie: I don’t know what he said, some “tight?”

    Erik: When you’re trying to deal with it, people are asking you how you’re feeling; you tell them straight out, “I’m having a really hard time. I still super miss so and so, and I super miss my life. I miss having conversations that don’t wrap back around to that one experience.” Be able to share, and be able to identify that your friend is standing there, and they love you so much. They want to give you something. You could say, “Just you showing up is what I needed. I don’t need anything else from you. I just don’t, but I love that you’re here. Can we talk about something different?” Be able to tell the person what you need, and if you don’t know what you need, tell them. “I wish I could share with you what I need, but I just don’t know. I’ve never done this before.” And if you want to talk about the same thing over and over and over again like how you had to identify the body—that’s a big fucking shocker for anybody who’s done it.

    Me: Sure.

    Erik: And you have to play it out again and again and again and again. If that’s the same friend that keeps showing up [to hear your story,] you just tell them, “Listen, I’m sorry, but I’ve gotta play it until this record breaks because that’s how I process things. So you share your story again and again and again, and you thank them for being the backboard to throw the words off of. A lot of you will say, “I didn’t have that awareness when I was in grief. Everything just fell apart. Everything was ruined. I wasn’t myself. I lost three days.” In those moments of grief, you’re right, you really can’t identify who you are, and this is the processing mode. But after that [initial] period, you have those moments of grief when you can talk, but you shut your fucking mouth, and that’s when things are going to start to go wrong. As soon as you start opening up your mouth, that’s when you’re going to be responsible for this. That’s when you need to share. Grief is lifted when you allow the community to come in with you, for you—

    Jamie bursts out laughing. I’m thinking, ‘Is that appropriate? It seems so out of place!’

    Jamie: Is Bella in the background?

    For those of you who don’t know, Bella is my tiny Yorkie.

    Me: No, that’s Kristina’s dog, Gidget.

    Kristina is my eldest, and we were keeping Gidget (also a Yorkie) while she and her husband went on vacation.

    Jamie: Oh, it is? Oh my goodness.

    Gidget is behind me in the chair, popping up and down so that her head bounced in and out of the picture.

    Me: A Whack-a-mole.

    We both laugh.

    Erik: You can rely on animal companions. That’s perfect timing because they take and give just like people do, energetically.

    Me: That’s true.

    Jamie: Do you want to ask something?

    Yes, and that’ll be the beginning of Part Two.

    beauty girl cry

  • June15th2015


    I have a question for you guys. What kind of reality TV show would you watch with Jamie, Erik and I in it? There are so many possibilities, so I want your input! Ponder that after you read Part Two of Three of the Suicide and Loss series. 

    Me: All right. How do you know if it was a mistake or destiny if you kill yourself?

    Erik: You know it the moment you arrive.

    Me: Okay, so I guess it could be like, “Oops” or it’s like, “All right! Made it!” How can we prevent ourselves from taking our lives? In other words, how can we get help if we have suicidal ideation? That’s kind of an obvious one—seek the help of a mental health professional, call the suicide hotline, etc. –but for example Erik, you had all these resources. You even had the cell phone number of your therapist, but you didn’t do it. You didn’t call for help. How can you, as a person, get help?

    Erik: I got years of help.

    Me: Yeah. You sure did.

    Erik: It wasn’t like, “Today I want to commit suicide so I guess I’ll go ahead and do it.” Jamie mimics his happy face.

    Me: Happy face!

    Erik: I thought about death before on several occasions and discussed it with other people, so in my case, I did the logical thing and weighed my options. I felt at peace with the idea of leaving. That was the way of death that attracted me the most. I knew this ending would create a joy, a release, and I was right.

    Me (crying a little): Yeah.

    Erik: I think for those who are thinking about suicide and they think they want to just go ahead and do it and they haven’t talked to a stranger or a therapist or a friend and heard feedback and really gotten in the community to find out what their ideas were based on or not based on, I think they’re missing out. I think that they think of suicide and choose it immediately, when they arrive, they’ll see where they missed the boat. For us, even Robin Williams who we talked to, he had decades of thinking about death and leaving. It was not some fleeting moment that he played upon. And when you read the stories of people committing suicide and they tried before or talked about it before and had issues with it before, put a smile on your face. This person found their answer and had the balls enough to give that relief to themselves. We need to stop condemning this shit. We need to start looking at it as what it is. It’s an option that doesn’t value life any less. I hope that sits heavy in your head. It doesn’t give—

    Jamie sighs and makes the talking hand gesture in a way that says Erik is talking a mile a minute.

    Jamie: He’s boiling with it. Hold on. He wants it to sit with everyone who’s watching (or reading) this that if someone chose to take their life, they didn’t value life any less than anyone else. It took more courage to step out of their lives than to stay in it.

    Me: All right, well you’re not condoning suicide are you?

    Erik: I’m accepting of suicide. I’m not condoning it because it’s not the answer for everybody, like it’s not the answer for everybody to smoke pot.

    Me: Right.

    Jamie starts to talk. I’ve clearly interrupted her.

    Me: Oh, go ahead.

    Jamie: No, he was totally off topic. Go ahead.

    Me: Yes it is and that’s typical. What do you say to people who’ve lost somebody to suicide? What do you recommend for them?

    Erik: Isn’t it true that the first words you hear are, “I’m so sorry for your loss?”

    Me: Yeah.

    Erik: What does that really even mean? You’re “sorry” for the “loss.” First of all, there is no loss—okay a physical one, yeah, but you didn’t lose the person after they died. They transitioned. I don’t know why you’d be sorry for them because it’s obviously what the person really, really wanted. In away, it’s a form of achievement. Sorry I put it that way. I know I’m really going to piss people off, but I was in those shoes, so I can at least say that, right?

    Me (sadly): Yeah. No trophy on the mantle though. Please.

    Erik: No, no. This is not like a trophy thing, but for those of you who are coming across people who are living who have had a family member, partner or friend take their own lives, acknowledge them. Just say, “Oh”—and say their name and acknowledge that they’ve transitioned, but why are you apologizing? Nobody needs an apology. Nobody needs pity while you’re in a moment of grief or not understanding what has happened. Show support. Say, “I’m here if you need anything.”

    Me: There we go. That’s perfect. I didn’t like it when they say, “But you’ve got other children,” or when they say, “Just move on!”

    Jamie laughs, but I don’t know why.

    Me: I just don’t like that.

    Erik: I don’t care how a person die; it’s not about moving on and forgetting them because that’s really what they mean. It’s about reaching out and showing support like, “Hey, if you want to talk about Erik, I’d like to listen.” You know, hey, they transitioned. It’s going to be a change.

    Me: Yeah.

    Erik: And it’s okay to admit to someone, “I don’t know what the fuck to say. I don’t know what to say to you, but I’m here; I’m available. I can’t imagine what it feels like. Here’s my hug.”

    Me: I wish more people had done that for me.

    Erik: Yeah, where’s the support? Why do people just take grief and then dump sorrow on top of it? It’s maddening to even think about it.

    Me (crying softly): I know. I lost a lot of friends.

    Erik: Yes.

    Me; I guess they were really uncomfortable.

    Erik: Yeah, and oh, and then how great is it that, um, —

    Jamie listens and then says, “Oh, that’s said sarcastically.

    Erik: Like three months after or a year after when you want to talk about me and the person’s like (Jamie mimics a facial expression of a person being completely poleaxed like they’re trapped and want to escape.)

    Me: I know.

    Erik: They don’t know how to handle it. Relationships can carry on, even after death. (Leaning back in his chair): A whole lot of people are missing out on a while lot of love.

    Me: Yeah. That’s a shame.

  • February2nd2015


    Yesterday was a brutal day. A bittersweet one. We finally cleared out all of the yellow crime scene bags (and there were a lot of them) from Erik’s closet. In a way it was a relief, but I still had to cry because now I’ve let go of the last physical part of him. I really don’t feel like posting anything today.

    Hearing Erik’s voice always makes me feel better, so let’s have a little contest. Anyone who finds his voice on a YouTube recording (or any other type of recording) other than what’s already been found will receive a signed copy of the book to keep for themselves or pass along to others. You can let me know, timestamp and all) through my email,

    It comforts me to know that I have my lovely children and husband, so I’ll post their pictures here.

    My Grand daughter, Arleen

    My Grand daughter, Arleen

    My Youngest, Annika

    My Youngest, Annika

    My Eldest, Kristina

    My Eldest, Kristina

    Rune in His Norwegian Folk Dress (Bunad)

    Rune in His Norwegian Folk Dress (Bunad)

    Rune Doing What He Loves

    Rune Doing What He Loves

    The two photos below are of my third child, Lukas. He looks eerily like Erik.

    Lukas with the Babes

    Lukas with the Babes

    Lukas in Norway

    Lukas in Norway


    My second eldest, Michelle


    Despite the tragic loss of my son, I am truly blessed. My you are see the blessings in your life. They’re there whether you realize it or not.

  • January15th2015


    Many of you found the blog because the grief you were feeling. Here, Erik gives more insight for you. 

    Me: So, Erik, do you have any suggestions for other parents on how to contact or channel their deceased children and how to deal with the grief of what will never be, the grief of a lost future, lost dreams?

    Erik: No. No. To answer your question, I’m open to suggestions, but I’ve sort of discovered that what I’m going to do best is to communicate with other spirits and try to nudge them to more tangibly communicate with their loved ones back on Earth. Mom, that’s gonna be up to you to do. You’ve got the intelligence and also the enlightenment that I don’t have. I can’t advise you there, but I think that by writing the blog and writing the book you will give solace and comfort where there is none. You will share hope where it has been lost, a camaraderie that will replace an empty existence—camaraderie meaning you understand what the other parents have gone through and how important it is to allow them to grieve the way that they will. Mom, I think you’ll reach more people if you tell them to mourn the way they need to without listening to friends and family members who “advise” them.

    Me: Oh yes, I know. You’re exactly right, Erik. I’ve read so many grief books and they all agree with that advice. The best one can do is lean into the grief to move through it, but they need to do so at their own pace and in their own way.

    Erik: Oh and Mom, you know what you have to include on the blog? Mom! Mom, a lot of people that will try to advise you are either people who have never had a kid or who have never had a child die! You have to write about that in the blog and then in the book, because it’ll make people chuckle not because they think it’s funny but because they can relate to it.

    Me: Well it’s hard for people to even be around those who grieve much less talk to them. Most people are so uncomfortable about subjects like death and grief and suicide. I know this from my personal experience. After the well-wishers from the funeral left, I lost a lot of friends. Part of that is because I became such a recluse, but part of it is also because such things make people squirm.

    I don’t know why I’m compelled to post this photograph of Erik. Maybe he’s nudging me to do it. This is the day he got his motorcross bike. We still have it. 

    Channeling Erik - Erik on Grief

    Here’s a message from our own, Betty Daniel. These ebooks are free, fun ready and short.

    FREE NOVELS: Starring FICTITIOUS versions of ERIK and ELISA. Just email me at, and the novels will be emailed to you in PDF format.  (That is a Q in my email like in QUICK, which is how fast I send them to you.) There are now 5 novels with ERIK being his usual outrageous spirit-self. Read them in order as there are characters, which reoccur.

    Written by E.J. Daniel with help from Erik.
    If you have already read some of the novels, just request the ones you want now:
    Book 2: JUST SAYIN’;

    Book 6: MAKE BELIEVE

    FREE NOVELS: Starring FICTITIOUS versions of ERIK and ELISA. Just email me at, and the novels will be emailed to you in PDF format.  (That is a Q in my email like in QUICK, which is how fast I send them to you.) There are now 5 novels with ERIK being his usual outrageous spirit-self. Read them in order as there are characters, which reoccur.

    Written by E.J. Daniel with help from Erik.
    If you have already read some of the novels, just request the ones you want now:
    Book 2: JUST SAYIN’;
    Book 6: MAKE BELIEVE



  • January13th2015


    Grief is…

    Posted in: Grief, Loss

    Just a reminder: Jamie is conducting a fascinating webinar January 14th, 6 PM EST. This is a must for those of you who are stuck in life. Here’s a description:

    Join Jamie on Wednesday, January 14 at 6:00 PM EST for a class called “New Year, New Root Chakra.” As each year comes to a close our society encourages us to take a look at ourselves and to make new choices for the year ahead. This class will focus on the great choices you made in 2014 and show you how to use your Root Chakra to ground yourself at the level you desire for 2015. Using Root energy can help you achieve your goals quicker while giving you a grounded place to move from. Learn the energy’s vibrational use, strength and purpose. Learn to take care of the subtle light body and connect your mind, body, emotion and soul to be more centered in your everyday life. Be prepared to work and ask questions in this class!

    Here’s the link to sign up. It’s very reasonably priced. Click HERE to register.

    Today, I’m posting a poem my daughter, Kristina, sent me. It really captures what grief is all about, and it brought a tear to my eye and a lump in my throat. Savor the words. Consider the meaning of each deeply and on many levels. And remember that grief is not just about losing a loved one. It’s about losing anything.

    Grief is not something we “get through,”

    you “get through” a bad day.

    Grief is not something we “get over,”

    you “get over” a cold.

    Grief is not something we “move on from,”

    you “move on” from a bad relationship.

    But grief is…a companion we “move forward with,”

    learning from and growing with each agonizing step.

    Grief is…a heart-wrenching process, not bound by time

    but sets us on a “lifelong journey” of finding truth and meaning.

    Grief is not a crutch we hold onto for pity.

    It’s not a lack of character.

    It’s not a weakness that needs to be strengthened

    Or a problem that needs fixing.

    It is not an enemy to be slain

    Or a wild animal to be caged.


    Yes! That needs “time”…”A LIFETIME.”

    Grief is…an acknowledgment of true love shared

    and true love lost.

    Grief is…a love we hold so deep within our souls

    that our tears fall to caress the pain…

    “God given tears,” but full of purpose and meaning.

    Written by Jean Kerrsee More

    Grief is...Channeling Erik

  • 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.

  • December31st2014


    I know I said I wasn’t going to post anything until January 2nd, but I’m sorry to report that a dear friend and long time member of the Channeling Erik Facebook group has died. Audie Herron was truly a special soul. Please send your love and healing energy to him wife and the rest of his family and friends. I know he’s in good hands with Erik, his guides and his deceased loved ones.

    Although it seems odd in light of this news, I want to wish you all a Happy New Year. Be sure not to drink and drive. Stay among those you love and be sure that I will be toasting to you, my cyber family. May 2015 be the best year of your life.

    Sorry I’ve been neglecting your comments. Holidays here with my family are a little crazy.

    Here’s a YouTube video from my daughter, Kristina’s,famous blog, Pretty Shiny Sparkly You can watch the whole thing, but definitely watch the part beginning at 18:40. Proof of how Erik’s death was an atom bomb blowing up in our family. All of us still suffer.

    I love you all,


  • December4th2014


    Now that I’m almost finished with using sessions for gathering material for the next book, I’m going to start channeling famous figures again. This time, Erik will be asking the questions because I don’t want him to be excluded from the interview. After all, it is “Channeling Erik.” I’ve randomly picked a few for you to choose from, although I have all of your suggestions on the list. I won’t be adding any more to that list because there are 450+ on it. I won’t live long enough to get through them all! Here’s the poll. 

    On another note, I tried yoga for the first time (probably because my workout club offers it for free!) and something weird happened. I started crying. I had to stifle back sobs to keep from breaking the focus of the others who were taking the class. Any thoughts as to why that would happen? Have any of you experienced something like this? 

    Now for today’s post:

    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.

    grief, Channeling Erik

    Grief Changes Us, Channeling Erik


  • November20th2014


    Many of you, including me, have signed up for the upcoming webinar slated to take place December 17th at 6:00 PM EST. To give you a taste, here’s the first one. Since this one, Jamie has improved the audio, and the video isn’t small screen anymore. Due to another glitch, you have to move forward to timestamp 30:00 to go to the start of the event. To join, click on the link below. Be sure to think of a question to ask him!

    Ho-Ho Holiday Web Channeling with Erik
    Wednesday, December 17 from 6-7 PM EST
    Cost is $20
    Register HERE

    In several previous posts, Erik has discussed ways that we can help mitigate the grief we feel after we lose someone dear in our life. Here, he shares how we can help them.

    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 the memory of it. 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. Buy the cookies you like.

    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.

    Erik had both of these: a difficult like and a violent, traumatic death. Looking back, I was so consumed by grief that I did’t send him any of this: no prayer, no intent, no love. How I regret that now.

    Videos like this make me miss him so much, but it also makes me realize that there were good times. It’s funny how we humans focus on the tragic more than the happy. Why do we let ourselves suffer so much?

  • November11th2014


    Oh, how well I know the pain of grief. Many of you have come to the blog because you’ve lost someone you love. It helps to know that there’s no true separation and that they’re the same, only without a body. Let’s see what Erik has to add.

    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.

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