“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

When you ask: “What is my psyche, or my soul, or who am I?” you are seeking of course for your own meaning as apart from what you already know about yourself. In that context, God is as known and as unknown as you are to yourself. Both God and the psyche are constantly expanding — unutterable, and always becoming.

You will question, most likely, “Becoming what?” for to you it usually seems that all motion tends toward a state of completion of one kind or another. You think, therefore, in terms of becoming perfect, or becoming free. The word “becoming” by itself seems to leave you up in the air, so to speak, suspended without definitions. If I say: “You are becoming what you already are,” then my remark sounds meaningless, for if you already are, how can you become what is already accomplished? In larger terms, however, what you are is always vaster than your knowledge of yourself, for in physical life you cannot keep up with your own psychological and psychic activity.

You think that your own consciousness is the only logical culmination of your body’s reality. You read yourself in a certain accepted fashion. In the “entire book of life,” however, just physically speaking, there are interrelationships on adjacent levels that you do not perceive, as other portions of your own biological consciousness or biological language relate to the entire living fabric of the world. In physical terms you are alive because of substructures — psychic, spiritual, and biological — of which you have hardly any comprehension at all.

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.

(9:55.) What you are is implied in the nature of what you are not. By the same token, you are what you are because of the existence of what you are not.

(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.

The inner events of the psyche compose the greater experience from which physical events arrive. They cast an aura that almost magically makes your life your own. Even if two people encountered precisely the same events in their lives at precisely the same time, their experiences of reality would still hardly be approximately connected.

(Long pause at 10:55.) Give us a moment… You read yourself in too-narrow terms. Much of the pain connected with serious illness and death results because you have no faith in your own continuing reality. You fight pain because you have not learned to transcend it, or rather to use it. You do not trust the natural consciousness of the body, so that when its end nears — and such an end is inevitable — you do not trust the signals that the body gives, that are meant to free you.