Kelly Bowker

I like to call myself "The Flannel Channel"—not because I planned it, but because I took a look at my YouTube channel and realized I’m always wearing flannel! That kind of sums up who I am—practical, grounded, and completely myself. I don't try to be anything I’m not. My spiritual journey is just that—mine—and I share it in the hopes that it helps others illuminate their own.

My awakening wasn’t sudden, but it was profound. In my mid-fifties, I hit what people call the dark night of the soul. As an empath, I had spent my life absorbing everything around me—without even realizing that’s what I was doing. I had no framework for understanding why I felt the way I did, why my energy was constantly drained, or why I could sense things that others couldn’t. All I knew was that I was cycling downward—mentally, emotionally, and physically. I got sick. My body started breaking down. I was diagnosed with rheumatoid arthritis. It was a freefall.

Then, by what I now know was divine intervention, I reconnected with someone I consider an angel on Earth—my counselor. She listened as I poured out my confusion and pain, and then she said something that changed my life: Kelly, you’re an empath. You need to look that up. That simple sentence cracked everything open. I had no idea what an empath was, but when I started reading, it was like someone had handed me the missing manual to my life.

At the same time, something else was happening—something I didn’t fully understand yet. A young woman in spirit was pulling me forward. She was relentless. I now know she was guiding me because she wanted to reach her mother through me. But back then, I just felt like I was being pushed into something bigger than myself.

I thought I was meant to be a medium—after all, I was bringing through spirits. I even took a class with Suzanne Giesemann, learning the traditional evidence-based approach to mediumship. But something didn’t sit right. The moment spirits came through, I didn’t just receive messages—I channeled them. I held them in my energy, and they spoke. My first-ever reading lasted over an hour, and when I thought it was done, the spirit wasn’t finished. I was learning, in real time, that I wasn’t just a medium—I was a full-body channel. And I was doing it differently.

But my guides had a plan for me. After that first class, they told me, We will be your teachers. And so, I never sought another class, never did retreats, never followed a structured path. Instead, I surrendered to my own unfolding. My guides worked with me directly, expanding my capacity to hold and transmit energy.

I learned that what I do isn’t just "talking to spirit." There’s a difference between channeling messages and receiving downloads. Downloads are something else entirely. When I get one, my whole body reacts. It’s not pretty—there’s flexing, thrashing, full-body tension. But when it’s done, I’m different. Something inside me has been turned on, and it never turns off. My guides call it my reach—with every download, my reach expands, and I can connect to more, hold more, transmit more.

People often ask, Who do you channel? My answer is simple: Who do I not? I don’t limit it. Whoever is meant to come through will come through. My job isn’t to control it; my job is to hold space.

And here’s something else I’ve come to understand—I’m meant to be the channel for the channels. So many people are waking up right now, stepping into their gifts, and the first thing they think is, How do I use this to help the world? But my guides have been crystal clear: Before you shine your light outward, you have to shine it on yourself. If you don’t build a foundation of self-love, spiritual stability, and personal authenticity, the work will drain you. The winds will come, and without strong roots, you’ll fall.

My work now is about holding that space—helping people anchor into their own authenticity before they try to give themselves away. I do very few one-on-one sessions because my true passion is in groups, where I can hold space for many at once. Humans are all asking the same questions. They’re all seeking the same thing. And when we come together, the energy expands exponentially.

This journey has been anything but ordinary. I live in a tiny rural town, surrounded by people who don’t share these beliefs. I used to cry, asking God to bring me people—to send me a community. And now, I have one. People have shown up in divine timing, supporting me, guiding me, and walking this path with me.

I don’t market myself. I don’t hustle. I trust that the right people will find me. My only commitment is to this work—to doing what makes me happy, what lights me up. And to me, that’s the highest alignment there is.