I know many of you watch in pain as the years go by after losing a loved one—one year, two years, five years, ten year, and on and on. If you’re like me, part of you has gained a new spiritual understanding of death and of the soul’s immortality. Yet, despite the comforting fact that we know our loved ones have simply shifted to another dimension right on top of our own—a paradise where we eventually will join them, it’s still hard, isn’t it?
Sometimes, when the house is empty, I call out for Erik like I used to:’ Erik, wake up and let’s go out for breakfast!’ ‘Erik, did you take out the trash?’ ‘Erik, come down for dinner, Sweetie!’ I choke back tears. I sing all of the lullabies that I used to sing when he was a baby. I pray I won’t live to see one hundred. God knows if my family saw me, they’d think I was nuts. I’m already on shaky ground in that territory as it is.
So it’s hard to have all this insight now, but still feel the emptiness in one’s arms and one’s heart, to feel wounded and reduced. We miss the hugs and kisses. We miss the pet nicknames and inside jokes. We miss having someone to nurture. We miss, in a word, the love. This is not to say that love can only emanate to and from one family member or friend, but each love is different. One love lost can never be replaced by another. If a puzzle piece is ripped away from that 3-D puzzle called life, that life is no longer what it was when every piece was in place. Once Erik was torn form my life, I was a right without a left, a to without a fro, a here without a there, a dark without a light. And all the spiritual knowledge we can cram into our minds and our hearts will never be enough. It may well buy us a little time, but, for me, only when we’re together again will I find the satisfaction that comes from feeling whole.
Me: Okay, again, I’ve asked you this before, but I just want to see what else you’ve picked up. How are new souls born or created and why?
Jamie (chuckling): He’s pausing. He’s repeating the question to me. It’s like he’s thinking about it.
Erik: Let’s start with the idea of a new soul. Frankly, we’re not new at all.
Me: Um hm.
Erik: Because we all come from God Source, and God ain’t new.
Me: Are you saying God’s getting a little long in the tooth?!
Erik and Jamie laugh.
Erik: But if you’re asking in terms of whether or not the soul is coming to the earth for the first time—
Me: Or maybe just when the soul individuates or separated from Source. Hell, I don’t really know what I’m asking at all! Help me out here, buddy! Tell me what I’m asking! (I start laughing at my own confusion.)
Erik: Well, think about it, Mom. We all have conscious collective memory.
Erik: Well, maybe we’ll call it a subconscious collective memory. So the definition of “new” doesn’t really fit.
Me: What about a tentacle breaking off from the God Source, then? It’s still part of the old stuff, but it’s new from the standpoint of being a tentacle.
Erik: Yeah, cuz even if a soul is having its first experience, it’s not new. So maybe we can ask if there are still spirits that have first experiences on earth.
Erik: We can say, yes. Yes there are. The population is growing. But you think, at the same time, uh, look at the rate of trees being cleared. These are all souls coming back to the Source. And of course there are souls that want to come in. These souls can take the shape of man, of animal—we’re really outgrowing ourselves.
Me: Wow, so I’ll ask this one again: do animals always come back as animals, a plant as a plant and a rock as a rock?
Erik: No, that’s like saying a black person can only come back as a black person. We’re not confined to race.
Jamie: Oh, so Erik, you’re putting insects, animals, trees and humans all on the same level, and you’re considering these almost like all different races?
(Long pause as I wait (in vain) for elaboration.)
Me: Okay. So these new souls, oops, I mean these new tentacles from Source are being projected to earth because it sort of accelerates God’s experience of Itself?
Me: Because we have more bodies to—
Jamie: To fill.
Me: Okay. Now, do souls age? I mean, of course there’s no time, so how does that work?
Erik: No, we gain knowledge and information, but we don’t age; we don’t grow old or weak. We don’t dissolve. It’s a conscious effort if you wanna dissolve and go back to God’s pure energy. And when you do that, you relinquish yourself, but you’re not burning or evaporating. The work you’ve done, the memories you’ve had, it maintains itself in that conscious pool of information.
Me: But you can choose the age you want to appear as, obviously. Erik, you probably look like you’re twenty, twenty-one, but, you know, you could just as easily appear as eighty or ten.
Erik: Yes. Yes.
Me: Right. Now, do souls raise children in the afterlife?
Erik: No, because as an energy source, you’re not helpless, not like having an infant who can’t walk or feed itself. It’s not like on earth where you have to protect and support and provide for a child until it can do that on its own. When you’re in spirit, you are on your own. That doesn’t mean we enjoy being alone all the time. We enjoy having units: family units, gatherings, friends, you know, intimacy.
Me: Okay, so it’s not like you need to raise a child because they need support, nurturing, guidance and protection, but can you still have a family unit, create a family unit there and create children who grow up and enjoy that process, or…
Erik: I know what you’re asking, and it sounds wonderful when you say it, but it just doesn’t fit with how we live. We don’t have that yearning within us, cuz there’s no drive to reproduce.
Me: Oh. Well, what about this: If you have—like there was one family unit we talked about who died all at once in a car accident. Now the children and parents live together in the afterlife—have a little house they created, they grill outdoors and do all the things they used to do on earth—can you have that? I mean, say you were a soul family on earth, and uh, you know—
Erik: Yes, Mom. I know what you’re saying and yes. You can maintain that family unit and you can play life just as you did on earth.
Erik: The only weak moment I can think of is when a person dies on earth—infant, child, teenager, adult or elderly or whatever—
Jamie (giggling): He’s going through all the ages for us!
Erik: So, at any age, there’s that weak spot when they arrive and they go, “You know, I might know where I am, but how does this work; what am I doing?”
Erik: And that’s when we band together, and we say, “Let me show you; let me walk you around; let me open your mind.”
Me: I see.
Erik: But we’re only able to do as much as they’re willing to accept or even listen to, and when it gets over their head, it stops right there.
Me: It reminds me of how kids all have to figure things out for themselves, make the same mistakes we made at their age, because they don’t want to listen to the advice that comes from our own experience. Reinventing the wheel.