“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

(She also had a profound healing session last night while in bed — she “swooned” in a state of near-ecstasy, she said, for over two hours while she felt healing effects surge through her. I reminded her this morning to write an account of the experience, but the after effects, plus new healing sensations, were so strong that she couldn’t concentrate enough to do the job; she wrote but a paragraph or two.

(In fact, Jane was fairly well “out of it” before tonight’s session, but decided to give it a try.)

Almost any question that you can ask about God, with a capital, can be legitimately asked of the psyche as well. It seems to you that you know yourself, but that you take the existence of your psyche on faith. At best, it often seems that you are all that you know of your psyche, and you will complain that you do not know yourself to begin with. When you say: “I want to find myself,” you usually take it for granted that there is a completed, done, finished version of yourself that you have mislaid somewhere. When you think of finding God, you often think in the same terms.

Now you are “around yourself” all of the time. You are ever becoming yourself. In a manner of speaking you are “composed” of those patterns of yourself that are everywhere coming together. You cannot help but be yourself. Biologically, mentally, and spiritually you are marked as apart from all others, and no cloak of conventionality can ever hide that unutterable uniqueness. You cannot help but be yourself, then.

(Long pause at 9:27.) In a way, physically you are a molecular language that communicates to others, but a language with its own peculiarities, as if speaking an accepted tongue you spoke with a biological accent that carried its own flavor and meaning.

Again, in a way your bodies speak a biological language, but in those terms you are bilingual, to say the least. You deal with certain kinds of organizations. They can be equated with biological verbs, adjectives, and nouns. These result in certain time sequences that can be compared to sentences, written and read from one side, say, to the other.

Pretend that your life’s experience is a page of a book that you write, read, and experience from top to bottom, left to right, sentence by sentence, paragraph by paragraph. That is the you that you know — the world view that you understand. But other quite as legitimate “yous” may write, read, and experience the same page backwards, or read each letter downward and back up again, as you would a column of figures. Or others might mix and match the letters in entirely different fashions altogether, forming entirely different sentences. Still another, vaster you might be aware of all the different methods of experiencing that particular page, which is your life as you understand it.

These are implied, however, in the nature of your own consciousness, which could not exist otherwise as you know it. As language gains and attains its meaning not only by what is included in it, but also by what is excluded, so your consciousness attains its stability also by exclusions.

(Long pause.) You read yourselves from the top of the page to the bottom, or from what you think of as the beginning to the end. Your greater reality, however, is read in terms of intensities, so that the psyche puts you together in a different way. The psyche does not mark time. To it the intense experiences of your life exist simultaneously. In your terms they would be the psyche’s present. The psyche deals with probable events, however, so some events — perhaps some that you dreamed of but did not materialize — are quite real to the psyche. They are far more real to it than most innocuous but definite physical events, as for example yesterday morning’s breakfast.

These encounters of consciousness go on constantly. They form their own kind of adjacent identities. You would call them subspecies of consciousness, perhaps, but they are really identities that operate in a trans-species fashion.

Certain kinds of pain automatically eject consciousness from the body. Such pain cannot be verbalized, for it is a mixture of pain and pleasure, a tearing free, and it automatically brings about an almost exhilarating release of consciousness. Such pain is also very brief. Under your present system, however, drugs are usually administered, in which case pain is somewhat minimized, but prolonged — not triggering the natural release mechanisms.