“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

(Ever since she began dictating Mass Events for Seth, Jane has felt like having book sessions but once a week — on Monday nights — and doing other things in between. So she’s been working on her own James, writing poetry, painting, and helping me out with Seth’s Psyche by doing some of the work I usually do when he’s finished a book: typing sessions for the manuscript, checking my rough notes, rewriting some of them and making suggestions about others. But with all of this, she’s been refreshing her physical and creative selves by simply enjoying the day-by-day magical ripening of another spring.)

Your ears certainly seem to be permanent appendages, and so do your eyes. You say: “My eyes are blue,” or “My ears are small.” The physical matter of those sense organs changes constantly, however, with you none the wiser. While your body appears quite dependable, solid, [and] steady, you are not aware of the constant interchanges that occur between it and the physical environment. It does not bother you one whit that the physical substance of your body is made up of completely different atoms and molecules than it was composed of seven years ago, [say], or that your familiar hands are actually innocent of any smallest smidgen of matter that composed them [even in recent times past].

(Long pause, one of many, at 10:04.) Your sense apparatus determines what form that something will take, however. The mass world rises up before your eyes, but your eyes are part of that mass world. You cannot see your thoughts, so you do not realize that they have shape and form, even as, say, clouds do. There are currents of thought as there are currents of air, and the mental patterns of men’s feelings and thoughts rise up like flames from a fire, or steam from hot water, to fall like ashes or like rain.

A chair is a chair for your purposes. As Ruburt speaks for me he sits in one. As you read this book you most probably lounge on a chair or couch or bench — all quite sturdy and real. The atoms and molecules within those chairs and couches are quite alert, though you do not grant them the quality of life. When children play ring-around-the-rosy, they form living circles in the air. In that game they enjoy the motion of their bodies, but they do not identify with those swirling circles. The atoms and molecules that make up a chair play a different kind of ring-around-the-rosy, and are involved in constant motion, forming a certain pattern that you perceive as a chair.

It is easy for you to see that seeds bring forth the fruit of the earth, each [of] their own kind. No seed is identical to any other, yet generally speaking there are species that serve to unite them. You do not mistake an orange for a grape. In the same way ideas or thoughts form general patterns, bringing forth in your world certain kinds of events. In this respect your thoughts and feelings “seed” physical reality, bringing forth materializations.

But nowhere do we see anything about any spiritual dilemmas that may be involved with all of this, or about the enormous social problems — challenges, to be sure — that could soon begin to manifest themselves if anything even approaching “eternal life” comes within the reach of numbers of people. Think of the legalities alone involved. (People might even have to change their marriage vows!) Science-fiction ideas abound. What about population control? What about those who want to live on, but can’t afford to? How will decisions be made about who receives the favored treatment and who doesn’t? Will families qualify, or just individuals? Geniuses or dolts? If the services necessary to extend life are free — paid for by the government, that is — will government decide that certain families simply cannot be allowed to have children, that they’ll be left to die out? In view of our present world challenges, it might even be said that there are already too many people in the world. And what about animals and other forms of life? Perhaps in their own collective wisdom the animals will look upon us as though we’ve altogether given up our powers of intuitive understanding.

There’s much irony involved in the whole idea of living indefinitely. If such a possibility is ever achieved, I think that on conscious levels the members of the species will come to fear the chance of accidental death more than anything else, and that this powerful concern may seriously circumscribe behavior. For who, knowing that for all practical purposes he or she is “immortal,” will want to risk that most precious gift of all — life — by doing anything that could rudely take it away? Even contact sports, let alone activities like air, sea, or space travel, or any dangerous occupation, could be abhorred. Disease of any kind, as well as aging itself, would have to be controlled absolutely.