Abraham-Hicks, the Gulf Oil Spill, and Illness
Photos here used with permission fromPhotos show oil on the white beaches in nearby Pensacola, Florida (currently being covered up–WTF?–by yellow sand brought in) and the notice given out by the local National Park Service, even though the health advisory signs have been covered over with black bags. If you’re curious about what’s really going on here on the Gulf Coast, forget the mainstream media and get the scoop direct from the locals. Click on the photos for a larger view.
It’s no secret that I’m a big fan of the Teachings of Abraham and believe that they make a fine template for most religious thought. I’ve been in the presence of Deity, both as a devout Christian and later as a devout Wiccan, and it’s the same to me as what Esther Hicks and Abraham refer to as Source or The Vortex—but that’s another post on semantics and universality of the human experience. I’ve gotten quite good at being in a highly positive mindset all the time. Where I’ve had trouble recently is with the Gulf Oil Spill and pivoting from my anger and irritation—and feelings of contamination and toxicity.
I’m one of the Abraham-Hicks “gluttons.” For those who are familiar with their subscription program, you can download unedited versions of their workshops, which are 4 to 10 hours, depending on whether the audio is of a regularly workshop or one of their cruise workshops which are much longer. These are great for me because I consistently always hunger for new perspectives and use these downloads to augment my spiritual work.
Since the oil spill on April 20, 2010, I’ve listened to at least 5 or 6 of these lengthy downloads and, every time, a question either comes up about the oil spill or Abraham addresses it directly. It’s clearly heavy on the minds of workshop participants. The Abraham perspective is always useful to me, but it’s only now after 74 days and seeing the snow-white beaches 5 miles from my home become contaminated and toxic that I am finally beginning to shift to a better mindset. That’s evident in my health over the past 2 months.
In the beginning, when the Deepwater Horizon oil spill first occurred in April, I was annoyed, irritated. And that grew with every news story. I don’t normally have allergy problems after the end of March or the first week of April when the pine and oak pollen have subsided, but by Mother’s Day, I seemed to be allergic to everything—and very sensitive to the fumes occasionally blown inward from burning oil in the Gulf of Mexico. My allergies induced asthma and a severe respiratory distress, and every time I walked outside into that gods-awful smell, my throat closed up. That’s honestly very scary, as I happen to like breathing and my throat closing sends me into an automatic, primal panic. There was a definite physical connection between my allergies and the oil spill.
From a metaphysical viewpoint, there was also a definite connection between the spill and my allergies. The emotion related to the symptoms? Irritation. I’ve always been very irritated by people who don’t take responsibility, by people who make a mess and don’t clean it up, by people who destroy something through intention or negligence and then expect me to deal with it. And I really get irritated (agitated is the proper word, I know) when someone makes a mess of things and LIES about it. BP certainly triggered a lot of anger and annoyance in me but irritation is the best way to describe both my feelings about the oil spill and the symptoms of my illness.
The worst of it came as I began to see the reports of the beaches I love becoming contaminated and toxic (with chemical dispersants like Corexit) as black oil washed ashore in nearby Pensacola, an hour west of here. My illness became much more serious as a new infection took hold while I was already weak, and yes, it was life-threatening. I understood the metaphysical connection but still couldn’t shift it that quickly. I was still feeling irritation but now, I felt vile and violated, poisoned, out of balance, impure, contaminated, toxic…pretty much my emotional connection with the waters and beaches of the Gulf.
My new medication is working now, though I may be on it for another month. I’ve made a significant shift in distancing myself from the toxicity and irritation. It’s taken 74 days to get relief and get to a point of looking forward again. I don’t know that it’s acceptance or resignation, but my empathic nature requires me to find some way to shield myself emotionally from the tragedy that’s hit home.