You probably never expected to get a message from me, a former supporter but more recently a skeptic. But events encouraged me to write and offer some free, well-intended advice for you and, by association, your followers.
It’s time to give yourself and Abraham-Hicks a break. I have reason to think you know that but are too involved in operations, not fully in control, to make a move you’ve had in your heart since before Jerry’s death.
I can remember, with a chill that never has fully gone, the first time I heard you in your Abraham-Hicks voice. It was deeply accented then, much like Theo with whom you and Jerry had interacted. It was eerie, listening to Jerry in a question and answer session with a entity from the other side. Given Jerry’s great charm, it was also disarming.
Okay, so I was a little disconcerted with the many repeated ads for more recordings and subscriptions. But it was so mesmerizing I couldn’t stop listening, pacing around the empty terminal at Buffalo’s airport, waiting for a long delayed flight to arrive.
For a year or more, I couldn’t get enough. I bought books and downloaded the programs you had on Hay House Radio, while that was still allowed.
Even then, it was hard to say where Abraham ended and Esther Hicks began. There were playful interludes among the more piercing revelations. I especially liked the fun you had with the baseball player who wanted to extend his success in bullpen sessions into the games. The funny stories from your life with Jerry, especially his witty quips, were always fun.
But what was Esther Hicks and what was Abraham? Reluctantly, I came to the conclusion that all of it was you and that Abraham was a fiction.
What kicked it? It was your handling of death, which you bragged was “so disrespectful.” And, no, it wasn’t that I saw death much differently, as a spiritual transition, than you.
It was your indifference to the pain survivors felt and you mocked, a callousness that disappeared when death threw its shadow over your own life. “It’s always good to see the old ones go,” you said, even if you let Abraham give you some distance from Esther Hicks. Abraham didn’t repeat any of that when Jerry died.
Were these the attitudes of an infinite being with access to eternal wisdom or a narcissist who comprehended clearly only what happened to her?
Once the facade was breached, a flood of a kind ensued. Aided by avid skeptical investigators, like Kyra Speaks, I discovered more contradictions, issues of misunderstanding scientific ideas and an endless twisting of whatever insight was available toward product sales.
One incident that, when I finally heard it, convinced me that you could not be whatever enlightened being you claimed for Abraham was your response to the World Trade Center disaster on September 11th, 2001.
As a bystander who stood on the street watching one building burn as a second jetliner plowed into the other, sending a terrifying plume of smoke across the plaza and one whose job kept him close enough to the area during the cleanup to witness victims families being escorted into ground zero, hoping for closure, I was turned off completely by what you said.
One day, my friend and I were held back by police as authorities led a utterly silent group into the disaster site where they could see what remained of the place where their loved ones were crushed and incinerated. One woman carried the family dog in her arms, a pet that probably still waited by the door every night for a person who never returned.
How do you think they felt when they heard you insist, just two weeks later, that all deaths are chosen, essentially suicides? Or when you capped it by announcing that every death was “delightful?”
You pretty much lost me, right there. No matter what came before, it was all Esther Hicks now. It was textbook narcissism and money-grubbing.
Over the next year or two, I wrote about the evidence I saw. Your considerable, emotional contingent of followers attacked me repeatedly. No, they didn’t attack my conclusions with facts.
It was always personal, often irrational. Seems many of them suspected Abraham was pure hokum, public theater, but were unwilling to let it go anyway.
The reason? Clear enough. What Esther Hicks had been saying for years was filled with gems that really helped some followers feel better and others to generate fresh hope. Enough so that many were willing to overlook the errors, contradictions and marketing excesses.
But then, Jerry Hicks got sick and died, and it wasn’t a pretty death. And you certainly didn’t distinguish yourself in how you handled it – or were others handling it for you?
The whole messy thing has already been covered and you can click here for my version, probably the fullest available.
Which brings us to the meat of this open letter: You will always be Esther Hicks, but you don’t have to keep putting on your Abraham-Hicks gear. I sense that you really want to give it up but don’t know how.
The event promos have become lifeless, and you’ve already canceled one workshop without explanation. If you can cancel one, why not all of them?
Maybe you can start by telling that inner circle crowding you and profiting from the act to get lost. Whoever persuaded you to jump back on the road immediately after Jerry’s death ought to go first.
They have little concern for Esther Hicks, really only about as much as you showed for families and loved ones grieving after September 11.
Of course, you’re grieving now, just as they were, but no one is mocking your suffering, following your lead in being “so disrespectful,” not even your remaining followers.
Your followers need to get a life, a life apart from Esther Hicks and Abraham, that is. They need to find some real selves and resources within them.
Their unwillingness to wean has been clearly demonstrated by the mass scramble to coalesce around the most palatable rationale for what went on with Jerry illness, death and what followed. They’d rather keep you trapped on this treadmill than take responsibility for their own lives.
One follower took me to task for my having written that Abraham-Hicks was dead and that you could not continue without Jerry. Your renewed, busy schedule of workshops is proof of my mistake. But is it?
Anyone with an objective view can easily see that the spark and soul of Abraham was Jerry Hicks, and when he died, so did Abraham. What we have now is a trivialized version of the former, dynamic workshops.
Old ideas, like grids, are being recycled as new ideas, and the confused presentations have left the border between Esther Hicks on stage and Abraham Hicks “coming through” breached and merged.
The neglected state of Abraham-Hicks Publications as it migrates to a woefully marketing only vehicle ought to be enough to convince you that your inner circle’s interests are not on the welfare of Esther Hicks.
You’re not a programmer yourself, but someone in that group of hangers-on ought to have enough respect for what you and Jerry built to update the bio page.
Four months late, your own website hasn’t caught up with Jerry Hicks’ death. It sings away as it always has about his great health and active life, his energy and fitness greater than men half his age. Leaving this up makes Abraham-Hicks Publications look like amateurs. In this case, it really is “so disrespectful.”
The deteriorating tenor of your promotional emails exposes the despair of not being allowed a reasonable period of grieving and continuing to spin out workshop after workshop. The cheerful claim to have Jerry in conversation with you and even speaking up at workshops has withered to lackadaisical reminders that forget to provide a link for LIVE broadcasts at all.
I have friends who once were close to you and would like to tell you this themselves on a personal level, but you haven’t been accessible. Your inner circle is full of people you and Jerry financially took care of, and they don’t want to let the show end. They might have to find jobs outside Abraham-Hicks Publications. They would rather sacrifice you to the machine than have that happen.
Finally, speaking as someone with nothing to gain or lose, whatever you do, I’d like to see you get back to being just plain Esther Hicks, at least for a reasonable period of mourning. If you decide to get back in the game someday, Abraham will still be there.
Jerry Hicks won’t be, and there’s the core of it all. Going it alone with the man who made Esther Hicks Abraham and gave her a wonderful life isn’t here to do it anymore. It shows.
Take a break. Anyone who cares about Esther Hicks unselfishly and as real flesh and blood person would tell you the same.
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