“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

(I ended up this evening wondering why nature would provide within its limitless possibilities that of such nasty ideas or creations—which, I told Jane, only meant that we had the power or ability to create such ungainly hassles. But to what end? There must still be much we don’t know, I concluded —-many things that Seth hasn’t even touched upon yet, and that are undreamed of by us from our viewpoint. I mention this conversation here because you-know-who refers to it in passing in the session. I think that actually it’s worth excerpting from the session and keeping in view for future reference and questioning.)

All realities are the result of idea construction. Thinking is automatic. It is a process with which you are gifted. You can think of things that are distant, things that you have never seen. You can imagine events with which you have had no personal experience. You are used to dealing with concepts, so that your thinking is not restricted, for example, to the mental naming of an object—but you also inquire as to its origin, its meaning, its class. Your thinking itself is its own kind of invisible language, for you think before you learn language.

(10:05.) Those processes, however, contain the basic mental structures from which ideas and concepts as you understand them come, and they are also responsible for the inner mental and psychological processes, individually and worldwide, that form private and mass physical reality.

Now: this basic mental system provides the infant’s natural mental environment, and nurtures it so that the infant is anything but strictly programmed mentally. It is provided with endless variations of probable reality systems, to which it will be able to mentally relate, and into whose framework it will be able to pour its curiosity.

When I say “You create your own reality through your thoughts,” you, meaning anyone, have a tendency to imagine each thought as a small brick, a psychological object, each one being formed into the structure of your experience. This can be an advantageous way of understanding certain principles—and I may have well hinted of such analogies myself. In your existence it is quite reasonable to visualize a desired event, for example, in the belief that the image and thought will help make the event physically real – and so it shall. It may also of course mean that other, perhaps more desirable events that you have not thought of may not happen—because you have been so specific, and perhaps determined your desire from your own level of understanding only—where the reservoirs of this deeper mental system might have been able to tell you that the event you want so badly is not, after all, to your best interest.

Each person has a highly unique mental environment. For various reasons not to be gone into here, your people have learned not to trust their bodies or their minds. It seems to Ruburt that his thoughts are negative a good deal of the time—naturally—and that he must take effort to change them. Of course, instead it is the other way around: his thoughts are creative and exuberant—naturally—when he leaves himself alone, and the troublesome thoughts that seem so natural now are the results of acquired mental patterns as he began to distrust his own nature, as given many times.

The mental processes at this deeper level, however, are different of course than your conscious ones, and in dreams, again, there are hints of a deeper kind of knowing, and a deeper kind of unity. When dreams appear bizarre it is only because, awake, you cannot follow the intricate creative unity that unites them. I am giving you this material for a reason, and I hope to carry it further, because I want both now to begin to have a feeling for the reality that exists behind your experience with concepts or ideas. And the information itself will help you intuitively apprehend some of the material just given.

The material just given has also been given for that reason—for trusted, his mental life would blossom overnight. He became overly cautious because he thought he should be that way, though he was not by nature. He thought it was not mature or reasonable to trust people. He was afraid he was too vulnerable. He was afraid, too, of his own spontaneity, as I have so often said—when of course his spontaneity is the best insurance of protection, for the mind and body know when there is danger and when there is not. Forget then, both of you, imagined dangers of any kind, and all such projections.