“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

It does you all good to think for yourselves in class and not have me around telling you how to think of time. Thinking should be your own thing and so should feeling. And while I have been egotistical in many of my lives, I do not need you all to set me up as an authority figure to whom you can relate so I would like to see some freedom on your own parts directed and applied.

True wisdom, true wisdom, true wisdom does not need thought and true wisdom does not need intellect. Now in the meantime, you will have to get by with thought and intellect because you rely upon it so strongly and there is nothing wrong with it. In the meantime it is an excellent tool but the true wisdom within you, once again, allows your body to spontaneously breathe as you listen to me, refreshes yourselves as you listen to me, collects from realities that you do not perceive, infinite potentials of energy that fill your being as you listen to me. That is wisdom and it does not need words and it formed your intellect. Upon its wisdom your intellect rests and the security of your intellect rests upon that support which is the wisdom of the inner self.

I use words because presently they make sense to you but hopefully behind the words that I speak, you sense the inner vitality which has no need for them and hopefully listening to me, you sense, if only dimly, the wisdom of the self within each of you that is triumphant in its own wisdom, its own spontaneous freewheeling wisdom upon which your intellect rests. The fine and terrible weapon of the intellect should, indeed, terrify even the gods, for there it sits atop of your heads so sure of its function and its worth and its permanence, and its knowledge and it judges everything according to those rules which it has itself established. And so surely should our little idiot flower cower beneath this fine intellect of man that even the seasons themselves should tremble before this fine instrument of the ego. And yet it seems to me, if I remember correctly, that idiot flowers, without a brain in their petals, manage to grow beautifully into what they are and to perfectly do their thing.