“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

Dreams, then, come from various levels of what you call the subconscious. But as a rule any particular dream, although it originates in a particular level, will nevertheless have meaning on all levels. The meaning however may well not be the same. That is, the particular dream may be a method of saying different things or bringing different messages, the one particular dream automatically being translated by the various levels of the subconscious in terms of the interpretation given by any particular subconscious level to the dream symbolism.

(Break at 9:35. Jane was dissociated as usual. She now told me that she had been upset by the delay in starting the session. This time wearing her glasses, she resumed in a rather unhurried but emphatic manner, her voice a little stronger, at 9:40.)

The dream objects are not randomly chosen, but only those are chosen which will be significant to the many layers of the self, according to the need or according to that part of the subconscious area which is to be instructed; that is, the portion which is directly a participant in the dream activities, and which plays out the dream drama while other parts of the self observe.

You must again realize that we speak of the self as being so divided only for simplicity’s sake. While the self is whole, it is however compartmentalized for efficiency’s sake, but beneath consciousness the doors are open. Again, the conscious self is most necessary. However it cannot be stressed too strongly that consciousness is merely a state of focus, and not a self.

It then constructs its dreams in such a way that the symbols within will sift through all areas that are themselves less able to survey large vistas, but whose energies are focused along specific lines.

I am, again, not minimizing the practical necessity for the conscious self as it appears to be. But man is much more than the conscious self, and what he calls the conscious self is merely the whole self as seen through the direction in which the whole self chooses to direct its energies and focus.

It turns beams of attention off and on. It has many facets and many volumes and many dimensions. It acts out roles, but the whole self is entire, and every individual innately knows and is intimately familiar with the intents and purposes of the whole self. And in dreams and in intuitions and unspoken thoughts, the individual comes to terms with the whole self, of which it is merely one portion, and not necessarily the dominant portion.

Intellectually he followed the ideas, but his inner self gave him the all-important initial message. His poetry does not spring from the conscious self, yet he would not disinherit it for that reason. Intuition represents the directions of the inner self, breaking through conscious barriers.

Messages from the inner self if strong enough will pass through the conscious barriers, and the conscious ego is only too happy to receive them. But such intuitions have usually first appeared in dream form, appearing to the ego later; and many such messages appear in dreams ahead of time, to be released to the conscious mind when situations demand it.

(It might be interesting to quote here the first paragraph of notes Jane made that evening: “Basic idea is that the senses are developed not to permit awareness of an already existing material world, but to create it. The inner image [idea] is projected by the senses outward to create the world of appearances. [Camera in reverse, for the eye, for example.]”

(As Seth states, Jane did have a dream about the idea the following night, September 11,1963. She recalls it quite easily. However she has no written record of the dream, since this was before she had cultivated the habit of keeping a dream notebook. As mentioned many, many sessions ago, however, her poem The Fence, written in May 1963, clearly foreshadows the Seth material, dealing with [but not always by outright name] such subjects as reincarnation, dreams, unperceived worlds, etc. [See the poem on page 28, Session 5, in Volume 1 of The Early Sessions.]

Now. The conscious mind perceives matter. Yet even then it does not perceive matter directly, but by a very indirect path, and only because the whole self directs a certain portion of its energies in that direction.

The conscious self does not perceive, or the so-called conscious self does not perceive, the equally valid dream constructions. You will discover that the whole self is composed of many so-called conscious selves. But neither of those conscious selves are aware of the existence of the others.

Ruburt knew he could look better if he spent half the time and effort, but was jealous anyway. So here the symbols coincided. He obtained subconscious information concerning your past life, the one symbol of the tub serving three purposes. It gave him information, it helped overcome his jealousy, and it was a transition from surface significance to deeper knowledge.

(This bit of data really made me sit up and take notice. Jane has not heard from her schoolgirl friend Marie Tubbs for some months, and if Marie was pregnant we did not know it. They have exchanged a desultory correspondence for some years, and have not met since the early days of our own marriage, ten years ago. But because they were such good friends in school days, they have managed to keep in touch with each other over the years.

Now, in any dream you will find a unifying image that will seem as diverse as this to the conscious mind. But it will speak to various portions of the self. In that dream you found the word tub referring to many various meanings, but in many cases you will find various other images, all cunningly connected so that it seems most unfortunate to you that the conscious mind cannot interpret them.

However, I have said that the conscious mind is but a small portion of the whole self, and the information thus received through dreams is automatically acted upon or assimilated, regardless of conscious cognition.

(Usually I would be willing to continue in such instances, but seldom do because it keeps Jane working longer.)

(End at 11:02. Jane was dissociated as usual. She was wearing her glasses, but after the session she asked me how often she did have them on, since while delivering the material she doesn’t see anything. I told her that lately she has had her glasses off perhaps a third of the time, something she did not used to do. Jane’s delivery had been quite animated giving the last few pages of the session. My writing hand was also tired.

(September 18, 1964, Friday: This was a long, complicated and very vivid dream that seemed to consume hours. It was in full color. In the beginning Jane; Bill Macdonnel; Clark, Alice and Larry Potter; and myself were in an apartment I did not recognize but took to be occupied by Jane and me. [Clark and Alice Potter had been our landlords in Sayre, PA, for over four years. The four of us had liked each other from the start and had always gotten on well together. Larry is their teenage son, and they have another son, Norman, older by a year or two, who was not in the dream.]

(Then, Alice Potter and I were driving down Route 17 to Sayre. She was very sympathetic to me, and I may have forgotten the reasons. I believe she was wearing a nightgown but am not positive. Alice parked the car in front of my parents’ home in Sayre, put her arm around my shoulder and said something. I then got out of the car and she drove away. I saw my parents’ home clearly there on Wilbur Avenue, but I did not go into it. Instead I started walking up Mohawk Street, around the corner toward Keystone Avenue, a block away. I was going to a theatre, a big one, on the corner of Keystone and Mohawk, though actually none exists there. I was now in striped pajamas. [I have none like this.] I was well covered by the pajamas, which were loose and baggy, and not at all nude.

(Next I was walking up the center aisle of the darkened, crowded movie theatre, still in my pajamas but not at all embarrassed or concerned that others would or could see me. The place was dark of course but I could see well enough. I was looking for someone or something I could not find.

(Next, Jane and I had been attending a party in a building on a busy downtown street corner, on the second floor. I did not actually see Jane but knew she was there at the party. Many people were about. I entered this part of the dream as I left the stairway to move out on the corner for a breath of fresh air. I was now dressed, and it was daytime. As I stood on the corner with people passing me in all directions, I stretched my arms high above my head. Then to my surprise I saw my father ride past me, past the corner, on a bicycle. Father was wearing a familiar brown hat, and a long brown topcoat, incongruously enough, and he was his present age. His face was very smooth-looking and pink-cheeked, looking very healthy, and he seemed to pedal past me quite easily, as a youth would do.

(I was very surprised to see Father. As he passed me he turned his head to look back at me over his left shoulder, smiling serenely all the while. Caught by surprise with my arms up in the air, I quickly lowered my left arm somewhat, holding it stiff, and waved at Father with my hand revolving at the wrist. I did not bend my arm but waved at him awkwardly with it held stiff so that only my hand moved. Father did not speak a word to me, nor did I speak to him or call after him. He kept on pedaling, seemingly up a slight incline just beyond the intersection. This was the end of the dream, and it made quite an impression upon me.

(Some kind of steady noise pervaded the air. Mother spoke to us, or one of us asked her what the trouble was, I am not sure which. Mother answered, but though I saw her lips move plainly, I could not hear what she said. The three boys leaned toward her. I believe it was I who then asked her to repeat what she had said, over the noise which was something like a rushing wind. Leaning forward at the table, I then heard mother say very distinctly, “Father has a spot on one lung.” This was the end of the dream, and it woke me up.