Understanding Abraham-Hicks’ Grid
Today, I finally understood the new Abraham-Hicks’ term, the grid. I first heard it a couple of months ago when listening to an mp3 from, I believe, late fall 2011 or perhaps very early in 2012. I had to listen to the session again and kinda-sorta thought I understood it. When my 19-year-old and I attended the live workshop in Orlando in late March, we listened to more talk of the grid and thought we understood but it still wasn’t clear.
The last several workshops haven’t talked much about the vortex or upstream-downstream. My daughter wondered aloud if perhaps this new term replaced the vortex. As I understand it, no. The vortex is still that feel-good place where things manifest. The grid is more of a mental process that can really screw us up or, if we’re in the vortex, be so pleasing to watch fill up with goodness. My daughter and I originally thought of the grid as a framework or, as I tried to explain it, like the straight edges of a puzzle with things filling in to form a picture. That wasn’t quite right, and I’m sure that if Esther Hicks reads these posts, she cringes.
Today I was listening to the Houston workshop download from April 2012 and then went back over the course of the afternoon and listened to it two more times in its entirely. Something Abraham said this time really clicked because I’d been struggling with a friend’s absence all day. I was able to turn it around and feel so much better by evening, even though I still didn’t know any more than I had in the morning.
It went kinda like this:
Me: It’s morning. I didn’t hear back from Jim-Bob last night and his last message was sorta cryptic. I hope he’s okay. Something really bad happened just a few days back and there was nothing I could do to make it better. I hope it didn’t happen again. Or something worse. It’s not like him to ignore me. Now I’m really worried. He hasn’t answered back today either. Something must be wrong.
Yep, I spent at least 17 seconds focusing on how something might be wrong. My grid started with a simple framework of “I feel lack because I haven’t heard back from Jim-Bob,” and I quickly filled it in with negativity and worry in the next 17 seconds. If, as Abraham says, you spend 17 seconds on something, then you attract more of it, so yes, that’s what I did. That full grid started attracting other little grids (this is how I see them) of ideas that started to fill in.
Me (five minutes later): Maybe there’s a medical reason I haven’t heard back from Jim-Bob. Or maybe someone is hurt. He drives like a testosterone-amped teenager–what if he’s been in an accident? What if he fell off a roof helping someone out like he often does? Maybe he can’t answer the phone because he’s unconcious….
Yeah…. I’m vaguely aware that I saw my parents do this all my life–start those frameworks and let them fill in with outrageous worries that came true again and again. I don’t want to do that. Must…focus…on…something else. I have an extremely busy mind, so if I’m not to worry about things or people, I have to focus on something I’m creating or put myself in a place where I’m really enjoying what I’m doing and forget about anything and everything else. If I ever start to brood, I’m damned, and bad stuff will come forth.
But sure enough, an hour later, after I had a great brunch with another friend, I checked my phone to see if Jim-Bob had surfaced. Nope.
Me: Maybe he’s ignoring me. Why would he ignore me? Does he not want to be friends any longer? Is he mad at me for some reason? Maybe he’s trying to put some distance between us. Maybe he’s trying to build a wall to keep me out like you-know-who used to do. Wait! Stop! I’m building that framework and letting it fill in with all sorts of things that I don’t want to manifest. Stop!
Yes, I’d started to catch myself at this point. I spent time with other friends and had a fun day watching The Avengers with Tonya and enjoying the man-candy on screen. Meanwhile, I heard back from Jim-Bob but the conversation stopped there. Something about it reminded me of my ex and I launched into another grid.
Me: I wonder if he’s manipulating me. Is he trying to get an emotional reaction out of me by withholding communication? He knows my history with that and how much it upsets me when someone does that. What if he’s just playing with my emotions. If he’s just playing with me, maybe I’ll end the friendship when I get back from my upcoming vacation and– STOP.
Almost up to 17 seconds of new doubts and worries, just that quickly. And after one 17-second grid, I would have gone right into the next one until I was clearly bringing a scenario into fruition that I did not want. I will admit, I went through this grid-building several more times, stopping myself each time. Not even refocusing my thoughts on Captain America’s cute ass could change that!
But after a while of consciously catching myself when I started to brood, I pulled back and started to focus on other things (including Captain America and Thor…..) and I’d get only a few seconds into the mystery of Jim-Bob’s absence. I’ve done this sort of thing most of my life–it was well modeled for me–but I don’t worry and stress like I used to. Still, it does come up every now and then. The more emotionally attached I am to someone, the more I let this bad habit catch me. Abraham-Hicks has been instrumental in changing my focus and my brooding talents.
I started looking for fun stuff I enjoyed, so whenever my mind flitted to worries about Jim-Bob, I turned it to something lighter. For 17 seconds. And then 17 seconds more.
Me: I’ll just water my patio garden quickly before I go back inside the house. Wow, these roses are so pretty, and the purple ones smell so good. The twilight is really pretty tonight. And it’s not too hot. I should build a bonfire tonight and sit out here in the moonlight. Oh, the full moon is rising. Wow, that’s the Super Moon! So pretty. I don’t want this moment to end. I just want to be right here in Nature with this garden around me and this moon above me, and I want to hold on to this moment. I miss being with my friends who are camping this weekend, but it’s beautiful here, too.
I was in a sudden beautiful, serene place. I had started one beautiful grid and gone right on to the next, all positive and heart-warming. I heard my phone go off then, a series of 3 text messages coming in. No, not Jim-Bob, but Trae, one of my friends who’d gone camping under the full moon on a trip I’d bowed out of. His message to me was as beautiful and heart-warming as the grid that had just filled in, all about how much I’d helped him in the last year and his appreciation for me. He was watching campfires and the full moon, too, and thought of me. I’m glad I was in his grid. His messages made my day.