“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

(I hadn’t read today’s local paper until I had a minute to scan it while we waited for the session to begin. Jane had read it, however, yet missed the article I called to her attention. It’s attached to this session as page 302 and describes what seems to be in ordinary terms a senseless and horrendous story: A 20-year-old drunken driver crashed head-on into another auto, killing two people, the father and an aunt, and putting the other five passengers, all members of the same family, into the hospital. Since the article is attached, we can pass up the details here. Jane and I talked about the feelings of guilt and blame that are fated to surround the survivors for the rest of their lives, particularly the teenage children and the drunk driver. It seemed that they would carry a heavy burden for perhaps half a century, say. For my part, although I believe Seth’s contention that there are basically no accidents, I was still torn between understanding of that premise, and outrage that a young drunk could wreak such havoc on a seemingly innocent family of seven people. I didn’t know whether to attempt to forgive him or demand life imprisonment, for example. In short, I thought it grossly unfair that the cause of the accident was still alive—although hospitalized —while two “innocent” victims were dead, with a whole family damaged beyond repair, for life. It seemed too much to bear, and quite unexplainable in ordinary conscious-mind terms. I thought it a classic example that could be explained in Seth’s terms, though—the type of new information that at least could try to make sense out of such seemingly random happenings that we see as so tragic. In that way, then, my discussion of the event touched upon pretty basic premises of the Seth material.

I mentioned before that some people court exciting and dangerous sports, living quite purposefully on the edge of death, and choosing to taste life spiced exotically by the ever-present sprinkling of ashes. Others might say that such behavior is neurotic, but in larger terms such a phrase is meaningless. In the same way, however, some people do live their lives so that its light is experienced in contrast to death in a different fashion—so that the rest of the years’ experiences are seasoned by that earlier taste of death.

(9:49.) In a way they will feel special—saved from the “clutches of death.” In perhaps a manner that appears strange, they will experience a new sense of their own validity, for if they were saved from death, then something—if only the fates—must have found them worthy. This does not mean that they will not feel guilty also at their good fortune, but it does mean that their lives will for them have a special brilliance and a contrast, in whose light they will experience all the other events of their years.

The father in many ways wanted to save face, so that his death should indeed appear accidental, and the result of someone else’s fault beside his own. He did not want to live into an old age—but more than that, life had lost its flavor for him. He had sired his children, loved as well as he could, done his job—but there was no contemplative life to look forward to, no greater love than the one with his wife—and that love while conventionally sound enough, did not content him.

There is nothing in man’s nature that makes such behavior essential. A true realistic exploration of the nature of experience would automatically study that kind of emotional interrelationship, but while your society delineates the inner particles of matter, it avoids the inner psychological “particles” that form the most intimate experiences of your lives.

(Our conversation about this during break led me to what I think is an exceptionally good idea for a book—one done even in conventional terms. It would be for the author to conduct a survey of the surviving members of families involved in such accidents, to study the after-effects, see what changes the tragedy had brought about in their lives, their habits, ways of thinking and looking at life—in short, the detailed study of each family case history would comprise an intimate, in-depth probing of all the complicated effects that had resulted from that single tragic event.

You both decided—and insisted upon—adding this timelessness to your lives. You avoided other roots that might allow you to fit into the times in an easier fashion, for those very roots would tie your imagination and ideas to the times, however invisibly.