“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

The forward motion brings you into the future, out of the past from which it seems you are emerging. So you plot a straight course, it seems, through time, never realizing in our analogy that the wheel’s circular motion allows you to transverse this ongoing road. The hub of the present, therefore, is held together by “spokes.” These have nothing to do with your ideas of cause and effect at all. Instead they refer to the circular motion of your own psyche as it seems to progress in time. Each present moment of your experience is dependent upon the future as well as the past, your death as well as your birth. Your birth and your death are built in, so to speak, together, one implied in the other.

(Pause at 9:40.) It is not quite that simple, however, for you live in the midst of multitudinous small deaths and births all of the time, that are registered by the body and the psyche. Consciously you are usually unaware of them. Logical thought, using usual definitions, deals with cause and effect, and depends upon a straight sequence of time for its framework. It builds step upon step. It is woven into your language. According to logical thought and language you may say: “I am going to a party today because I was invited last week, and said I would attend.” That makes sense. You cannot say: “I am going to a party today because I am going to meet an individual there who will be very important to my life five years from now.” That does not make sense in terms of logical thought or language, for in the last example cause and effect would exist simultaneously — or worse, the effect would exist before the cause.

When your eyes are on the road of time, therefore, you forget the circular motion of your being. When you dream or sleep, however, the world of cause and effect either vanishes or appears confused and chaotic. Normal daytime images are mixed and matched, so that combinations are formed quite different from those seen in the daylight. The known rules that govern the behavior of creatures and objects in dreams seem no longer to apply. Past, present, and future merge in a seemingly bizarre alliance in which, were you waking, you would lose all mental footing. The circular nature of the psyche to some extent makes itself known. When you think of dreams you usually consider those aspects of it only, commenting perhaps upon the strange activities, the odd juxtapositions and the strange character of dream life itself. Few are struck by the fact of their dreams’ own order, or impressed by the ultimate restraint that allows such sometimes-spectacular events to occur in such a relatively restricted physical framework.

(Long pause.) You always translate experience into terms you can understand. Of course the translation is real. The dream as you recall it is already a translation, then, but an experienced one. As a language that you know is, again, dependent upon other languages, and implied pauses and silences, so the dream that you experience and recall is also one statement of the psyche, coming into prominence; but it is also dependent upon other events that you do not recall, and that your consciousness, as it now operates, must automatically translate into its own terms.

Generally speaking, the psyche has the same kind of instant overall comprehension of psychological events and environments as your body has of physical ones. It is then aware of your overall psychological climate locally, as it involves you personally, and in world terms.

Your actions take place with such seeming smoothness that you do not realize the order involved. A volcanic eruption in one corner of the world will ultimately affect the entire earth in varying degrees. An emotional eruption will do the same thing on another level, altering the local area primarily but also sending out its ripples into the mass psychological environment. The psyche’s picture of reality, then, would be equally incomprehensible to the conscious mind because of the intense focus upon singularity that your usual consciousness requires.

Your dreams often give you glimpses, however, of the psyche’s picture of reality in that regard.

I use the word “cordella” to express the source out of which such languages spring. There are many correlations of course between your language and your body. Your spoken language is dependent upon your breath, and even written language is dependent upon the rapidity with which messages can leap the nerve endings. Biological cordellas then must be the source for physical languages, but the cordellas themselves arise from the psyche’s greater knowledge as it forms the physical mechanism to begin with.

Dreams are a language of the psyche, in which man’s nature merges in time and out of it. He has sense experiences. He runs, though he lies in bed. He shouts, though no word is spoken. He still has the language of the flesh, and yet that language is only opaquely connected with the body’s mechanisms. He deals with events, yet they do not happen in his bedroom, or necessarily in any place that he can find upon awakening.