I recently attended my second Abraham Hicks seminar. Sitting in the audience at the beginning of the seminar with several hundred others, watching Esther Hicks meditate herself into the proper state of mind to translate Abraham, I was struck by how weird it was. Usually, I just ignore the weirdness because what Abraham says is so grounded and useful. I don’t want to be the sort of weirdo who believes in strange things. It turns out that I’m exactly that sort of weirdo.
For any who don’t know, Abraham describes themselves as a collective consciousness, sending blocks of thought to Esther Hicks who translates those thoughts into words. They say they are a large group of non-physical beings who have united in the common purpose of reminding us of our true nature. Some describe their method of communicating through Esther Hicks as channeling. I’ve seen interviews with Esther Hicks and one thing is certain, her personality and the personality that comes through as Abraham, are very different.
I love Abraham and have learned a lot from Abraham books and seminar clips on youtube. The Abraham teachings have made a profound positive difference in my life. Still, it’s very weird.
I believe that when we leave our physical bodies, the core of who we are continues to exist. I’ve felt the presence of loved ones who’ve died and even communicated with them. I’ve communicated in a non-physical way, at a distance, with people who are still alive. In everyday life, I find non-physical, intuitive communication, to be an active part of how I navigate the world.
If a family member contacts me with urgent information, I usually know, intuitively, about their phone call before I receive it. I’ll be driving home from work and know that I’ll have a message on my answering machine from a certain person. Sure enough, when I get home, the message is there. Or if I’m home, I’ll anticipate a phone call before the phone rings.
Recently, I had a strong urge to go to the library, even though I had plenty of books to read and didn’t want to borrow any more. I kept having the urge to stop by the library, so I finally did. It turned out that the librarian had a book that I wanted to read and was saving it for me.
Sometimes I will have dreams where I emotionally work out issues with people in my life. Later they’ll call or write to me as if continuing the non-physical conversation we’ve been having. This non-physical communication is not strange to me.
In each of these cases, I believe that someone’s desire to communicate with me, or my desire to communicate with them, has caused us to actually communicate non-physically. I think we communicate with each other, non-physically, all the time.
What I find confusing is that if I find the lifestyle advice from Abraham to be useful and accurate, if I accept their vision of the world, does that mean I must accept their vision of the non-physical world? It seems like it must.
Truthfully, I don’t find the reality they talk about, to be hard to accept. My mother died about 8 years ago. I can totally imagine her leaving her body and immediately looking for ways to help those of us still in our physical forms. She loved to get involved in other people’s lives and I’m sure that in non-physical, she’s no different. She’s probably loving the broader view of the world that she has now.
This non-physical reality is not something that we talk about in ordinary life. It’s not something we agree about. Many don’t even believe that we continue in any way after our bodies die. They would find this discussion to be absurd. And weird.
Worry about others’ opinions about me is the crux of my discomfort with following and talking about the teachings of Abraham. I don’t want to be judged by people I care about and I’m afraid I will. I don’t want to be seen as unusual. I don’t want to be seen as naïve or misguided.
This brings me to a fundamental teaching of Abraham: I can’t be concerned about what others think of me if I want to be happy. It’s something I’ve learned at other times and in other ways, but I keep forgetting. I do want to be happy. Perhaps it’s time to embrace my weirdness.