“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

Part One of the book is to be called: “Where You and the World Meet.” The heading that you asked about is for Part Two of the book (“Your Body as Your Own Unique Living Sculpture,” etc., given in the 637th session in Chapter Nine). The heading referring to the soul in chemical clothes is for the next chapter (Ten), which is the first chapter in Part Two.

(A one-minute pause at 9:21.) In normal daily life, considerable natural therapy often takes place in the dream state, even when nightmares of such frightening degree arise that the sleeper is shocked into awakening. The individual’s conscious mind is then forced to face the charged situation — but after the event, in retrospect. The nightmare itself can be like a shock treatment given by one portion of the self to another, in which cellular memory is touched off much as it might be in such an LSD session.

But the self is its own best therapist. It knows precisely how many such “shocks” the psyche can take to advantage, which associations to animate through such intense experience and imagery, and which ones to leave alone.

(9:32.) If scientists studied the body and the mind in terms of natural healing abilities, they could learn how to encourage these, for such processes — and I have mentioned only one of them — are continuous through your lifetime.

Its own stability and awareness can be vastly deepened and strengthened. In times of seemingly calamitous encounters with nature, individuals may find themselves amazed at their capacity to relate with other people, but in the artificially induced psychic disaster area of massive LSD therapy, the situation is reversed. Consciousness finds itself in a crisis situation; not [because of one coming] from the exterior world, but because it is forced to fight on a battleground for which it was never designed and cannot understand, where basically counted-upon allies of association, memory and organization, and all the powers of the inner self, are suddenly turned into enemies.

Ruburt has been working on a book of poems called The Dialogues, and in it recently he wrote of the double worlds. One night he stood at the kitchen window, and quite without drugs saw a rainy puddle below suddenly turn into an alive, beautifully fluid creature who stood up and walked while the rain slid off its liquid sides.

He was filled with joy as he observed this reality. He knew that in the physical world the puddle was flat, but that he was perceiving another just-as-solid reality; a larger one, in fact, in which that rain creature had its being.

(When she had her experience involving the puddle — as well as another one, described immediately below — I asked her to write an account of both events in case Seth referred to them sometime. Her material is presented, with the appropriate selection of poetry from Dialogues, in the notes at next break. Resume at a bit slower rate at 10:20.)

He saw it physically, yet could find no physical cause for it. It lasted several seconds and disappeared. As soon as Ruburt saw it he leaped back. The last line in the poem he had completed just before dinner spoke of a light that would illuminate both worlds, one of the soul and one of the flesh. Consciously he thought the light must have been caused by lightning, even while he knew with another portion of himself that that was not the case.

The feelings that are often realized in later sessions, say of rebirth, are indeed that. The old organizations of the self have fallen, and the new structures do indeed rejoice in their oneness and vitality.

travel two worlds in one and form

(“With the puddle creature I saw both realities — the puddle in physical terms, and the creature in larger than physical terms — and could switch from one reality to the other if I wanted to, I think. But the light didn’t have a physical counterpart. I think it came … from that other reality directly here, because I had my ‘windows’ open.”

Now: In the normal cycle of the death and rebirth of cells, and the usual pattern in which the ego constantly changes, there is a smooth flow and no loss of orientation. Previous cellular memory is carried along easily from one cell generation to another.

As mentioned earlier (in the 610th session in Chapter One), what you call the ego is a portion of the inner identity that rises to face the world of physical existence. In the regular course of events it will change into another ego, but while losing its “dominant” status it will not die to itself. It will alter its organization as a part of the living psyche.

(Long pause.) I am aware that many psychologists and psychiatrists feel that they are charting the course of the psyche with these methods. It is one thing, and unfortunate enough, to dissect a frog to see what did make it live. It is triply dangerous to dissect a psyche, hoping to put it back together again.

(The house in question, one of those decaying turn-of-the century Victorian piles, had squatted on the corner diagonally across the street from us. Jane often sketched it from our living room windows.

Ruburt’s mother was very much afraid of cats, particularly black ones. Now and then Rooney and Ruburt passed symptoms back and forth. The cat was not a passive receptor, however, and also learned from his encounters with your neighbor downstairs (who also has a cat). Many of Ruburt’s feelings about his mother are buried in Rooney’s grave. Rooney, though, is free of a distrust that he had carried with him this time, having to do with his background in that house across the way, and was grateful for those additional years you gave him.