“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

Now, let us take for argument’s sake, a poor unintelligent flower in the middle of a garden. Now, there the poor thing is, and it cannot move back nor forth. It cannot run up the garden path and it is. Now, when the rain falls it gratefully accepts the droplets. It does not turn its head upward and say, “Yes, but does the rain exist, or does it not? And wherefore does it come, and how, indeed, do these elements reach into my beings and down into my roots? And unless I understand how this occurs, then I will not accept the rain.” And when a sunny day comes, the flower does not lift its idiotic head and say, “Now, this appears to be the sun. How is it that the sun keeps me alive and brings the green to my leaves and branches and makes me flower? I do not understand, and since I do not understand, therefore, I will not accept the sun and I shall stand here and deny that it exists for how do I know that I exist, much less the sun does. Perhaps it is a fancy tale told by other idiots as stupid as myself.” But if it is a fancy tale, it would behoove you to listen, for the moment that the flower says, “I deny, therefore, I deny the sunlight or the rain,” then the flower, indeed, would deny the grace of existence.

Now this crisis has a meaning and a purpose. It does you no good to avoid this crisis through drugs, through tranquilizers, or through material possessions, for you must face certain facts, and the facts are these. The high and mighty intellect that deals with the world of sense is not all. The validity and the vitality of your existence is far more than this. And when you find your intellect, alone, cannot give you the answers, and that it cannot bring you joy and that it brings you no closer to the fountain of existence, then you begin asking the proper questions. Then you are like the flower who accepts the sunshine, and in accepting the sunshine knows far more about the reality of sun than any scientist who measures the spectrum of light without feeling. Your soul, your inner self, your reality, is experience. It is this upon which you must base your life.