There’s less than a week to go until the official release date of my book Messages from Shiva, vol. 1! I’m really looking forward to having this available to people. It’s been a work of love and joy for me, as have the daily channeled messages I post on Facebook, which is how this book originated.
The book will be available in Kindle and print formats through Amazon. The Kindle version is available now for pre-order on Amazon!
This is an excerpt from the introduction to the book:
When I mention to people that I channel, they often have questions. A lot of questions.
Channeling isn’t something that’s well-known, especially in the mainstream, day-to-day society in which most of us pass our time. Even those who do know a little about channeling assume it’s the same as mediumship (which is communication with dead spirits) or believe it’s something that happens to you rather than something you choose to do. There are a number of misconceptions and misunderstandings about what channeling is, and there really isn’t room for me to address all of them in what’s meant to be a fairly short introduction to this book.
However, I’ll give a little background about my experiences with my guides and with channeling, and hopefully I’ll bring some insight by doing so.
My childhood wasn’t the most pleasant or the most nurturing. I’m an only child. My father is also an only child and never quite saw the logic in socializing with others. My mother’s family is in another country; she wasn’t close with them, seemed to get very stuck on the “rules” of how to navigate interpersonal connections, and became a mother because that’s what women were supposed to do.
Both of my parents worked outside the home, even though in the early 1970s that was uncommon, and they seemed at times to be alternately annoyed or exhausted by me. I realized when I was very young that I had to take care of myself, because the adults around me weren’t doing as effective a job as I needed.
I didn’t have many friends, because I didn’t really understand how to behave with other children. I wasn’t around other kids often anyway, and even when I was, I didn’t understand why I couldn’t talk about the things I saw or “just knew,” or why kids thought I was weird or bossy when I was just being honest.
I was about two years old when my first two “invisible friends” first showed up in my life. I called them Big John and Little John, partly because of a TV show I watched that had characters by those names, and partly because…well, I was two. Names weren’t my strong suit.
In my two-year-old mind, Big John was a teenager, strong and protective; Little John was a toddler, younger than me, not even able to speak yet. Big John took care of me, and Little John was my playmate. I loved them. I felt loved by them.
Over time, more invisible friends came to me. I talked to my parents and other adult relatives about them. The adults indulged me because I was an “imaginative child,” and even the adults who otherwise found me difficult to deal with were respectful of creativity. They weren’t entirely happy, though, when they referred to my “imaginary friends” and I vehemently corrected them. “They aren’t imaginary! They’re just invisible!”
When I was around four, my most powerful “invisible friend” arrived. He was extremely loving and protective. Any time he was with me, I felt warm, safe, and nurtured. I never had any doubt that he was abundantly good.