My Confession

It has taken me a while to get to this moment. I guess I was afraid of.judgment. I’m no longer afraid.

Hello, my readers. I am Mari Locklin and I know things because I remember.

I started writing this blog after a dragonfly flew into my life almost two years ago. Since then I’ve learned a lot — about the world, about the world beyond, about the world within.  At the time, I was starting to awaken to the unknown influences in my life, the synchronicities, the messages in the random music I would get, in the meditations that would open my world to new experiences and new places to make my inner me stronger.

Everything changed one night when I ran out of a dream and into my bathroom. The guide with whom I’d been speaking for two years was backing off. He said this was the way it was supposed to go. I knew that. I knew it had been a decision by my Higher Self, but my guide and I weren’t happy. He didn’t hang me out to dry, though. He stuck around for a while until I felt comfortable with the next phase of my life. I never felt alone. That guide had been with me since childhood. I had called him Nikolas since the day I met him when he pulled me back from a shattered sliding glass door.

I thought I would miss him when he left.

Then, just about this time last year (mid-October, 2012), a Google search for an element in the novel I was revising led me to another blogger’s page. When I searched for Twin Souls and Twin Flames, popped up. I followed the link to the blog put together by a mother who was communicating with her son, existing now in the afterlife.

I couldn’t stop reading. Erik’s story ripped at my soul and his vibrant personality kept me reading.

I never recognized when it happened, but my guide disappeared from my life. Suddenly, the voice throbbing through me, giving me boundless energy to write and to spread his word, was Erik. At first I thought it was just my fascination with this 20-year-old and the lessons his mom was sharing with readers through a channel named Jamie Butler. I loved the interviews he lined up with famous people like JFK and Elvis and even Jesus (that was an amazing one!)

One morning, during meditation, I found the tousle-haired spirit who I know as Erik sitting under a Royal Poinciana tree (what is known to my Cuban family as a Flamboyant) in the meditation space in my mind. We talked for a short while. I asked him if he was Erik. He said he was who I thought he was. I asked for proof: “Give me a purple flower today to prove I’m talking to you,” I ordered.

Later that day, a coworker handed me a gift – a purple mug with a purple flower painted inside. Along the outside, one simple phrase in script: It is what it is.

Okay, maybe my new guide is this kid who pranks his fans! Everything started falling into place and I started sharing with my readers new lessons from my teacher. Vibrant lessons; random lessons, all with a spiritual connection. He obviously wants to help us all grow and join him in the afterlife after our lives are done when our time comes (definitely not before!) I was so happy knowing this; I’d finally found a community of people I felt at home with.

Then an armed man walked into an elementary school in Connecticut.

That night I had a vision. Somewhere in that place between awake and asleep, I saw a pristine white room with white metal folding chairs scattered around. The next moment there were students sitting in the chairs. Waiting.

Then I fell through the space from awake into asleep.

Were those souls waiting for me? Was I supposed to help? I’m a teacher and I communicate really well with children. I felt strongly that was the case. It wasn’t a memory. It wasn’t wishful thinking. I know they called out the troops in Heaven to help that day, as they did on other days of big disasters. It was a feeling stronger than anything I’ve felt before. I’m not assuming I was one of the troops (although it sure would be nice to think I helped that night!) When I was a kid I had a dream where I was helping people cross a dangerous road. Maybe this life is just my path toward that goal.

Now I walk through my days with a lighter step because there is something different about me.

I know how this will sound to people who know me outside of this blog. Trust me, I’ve kept this story secret for a while fearing that my friends or my father would think I was going crazy.

I’m ready to confess now. I’m not afraid anymore. I’m not going crazy, and I’m not working for evil — I love God and Jesus and Mary and the angels. I’m also not indoctrinating people. In this blog I’m writing a story. It can be taken as fiction or as reality – parts of it can be interpreted either way. I only want people to be entertained by my stories. That’s all a writer really wants.

I don’t know what happened that night of the shootings at Sandy Hook elementary after I fell asleep. I rarely dream anymore. I’m told it’s because I can hear them so clearly now. They don’t need to communicate via my dreams. They communicate via Erik and this blog as I follow the map that will lead me down the path of my lifeplan.  I am far from reaching the finish line, trust me!

I hope Teacher’s lessons ring true to my readers. If you want to learn more about his alter-ego of Erik Medhus, visit his mom’s blog at or buy her book, My Son and The Afterlife,

This experience continues to open my eyes and lead me closer into the light of spiritual awakening, a glorious journey that has changed the way I see my life in so many wonderful ways.

As I continue my travels, Nikolas is back, and when he rests a hand on my shoulder, I smile.

Thank you for joining me on this ride.

Namaste, my friends. Until Teacher’s next lesson I remain, ever faithfully,

The Dragonfly’s Student


One comment

  1. I look forward to more posts! And, I also have an “ex guide.” A black dog, of course he wasn’t really a dog, but he appeared that way. I don’t remember him as a child, but apparently we interacted … then he started reappearing maybe last year (MANY years later!) as I was going through some experiences and changes. This was shortly before a “changing of the guides” and I lost him, so to speak. I have been very nostalgic for my black dog, but he said I turned my back on him so it’s kind of funny I miss him now. (He said that in a kind way.) I don’t remember turning my back on him, but I sure do remember having some very spiritually arid years. Life and guides are funny.

    Liked by 1 person

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