“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

Your conscious knowledge rests upon an invisible, unspoken, psychological and physical language that provides the inner support for the communications and recognized happenings of conscious life. These inner languages are built up as cordellas, and cordellas are psychic organizational units from which, then, all alphabets are born. Alphabets imply cordellas, but cannot contain them, any more than English can contain Russian, French, Chinese, or any combination. If you try to speak English you cannot speak Chinese at the same time. One precludes the other, even while one implies the existence of the other, for to that degree all languages have some common roots.

In the same way you form events, often without being aware that you do so. It seems that events happen as it seems words are spoken. You were taught how to construct sentences in school, and you learned how to speak from your elders. You were involved with event-making before the time of your birth, however. The psyche forms events in the same way that the ocean forms waves — except that the ocean’s waves are confined to its surface or to its basin, while the psyche’s events are instantly translated, and splash out into mass psychological reality. In waking life you meet the completed event, so to speak. You encounter events in the arena of waking consciousness. In the dream state, and at other levels of consciousness, you deal more directly with the formation of events. You are usually as unaware of this process as you are in normal practice of the ways in which you form your sentences, which seem to flow from you so automatically.

In dreams, then, you are involved in the inner process by which physical events are formed. You deal with the psychological components of actions which you will, awake, form into the consecutive corporal “language” that results in the action of your days.

The events that you recognize as official have a unitary nature in time that precludes those probable versions of them, from which they arose — versions that appeared to one extent or another in the dream state. Again, if you speak the English sentence “I am here,” you cannot speak the Chinese version at the same time. In that regard, in your framework of action you choose to “speak” one event rather than another. Your formation of events, however, does not simply reside in your unique psychological properties, of course, but is possible because of the corporal alphabet of the flesh.

(Long pause.) Now as it is possible for any one human being to speak more than one language, it is also possible for you to put physical data together in other ways than those usually used. The body is capable then of putting together different languages of reality. In usual terms, for example, your body can only be in one place at one time, and your experience of events is determined in large measure by your body’s position. Yet there are biological mechanisms that allow you to send versions or patterns of your body outside of its prime position, and to perceive from those locations. In sleep and dream states you do this often, correlating the newly perceived data with usual sense information, and organizing it all without a qualm. For that matter, the preciseness of your ordinary sense perception rests firmly upon this greater inner flexibility, which gives you a broad base from which to form your secure focus.

(11:15.) Yet each of those nameless atoms and molecules cooperates in a vast venture, incomprehensible to you, that makes your speech possible, and your reality of events is built up from a cordella of activity in which each spoken word has a history that stretches further back into the annals of time than the most ancient of fossils could remember. I am speaking in your terms of experience, for in each word spoken in your present, you evoke that past time, or you stimulate it into existence so that its reality and yours are coexistent.

(11:22.) While you can only speak one sentence at a time, and in but one language, and while that sentence must be sounded one vowel or syllable at a time, still it is the result of a kind of circular knowledge or experience in which the sentence’s beginning and end is known simultaneously. If the end of it were not known, the beginning could not be started so expertly.

In the same way the experienced event occurring in time is dependent upon a circular happening, in which beginning and end are entwined, not one occurring before the other, but coexistent.