“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

Begin with the idea of a book. That idea alone instantly mobilizes, say, Ruburt’s abilities, and the same applies to any writer. There is only one person involved. The same applies to an artist, so for simplicity’s sake we will start with a single creative event—the idea the writer or artist has already geared himself, through training and practice, through intent and expectation, to receive to begin with.

Now: We want to publish the book—and I will here continue, for our purposes, dealing with a book’s production rather than a painting’s. Still, however, we will keep the idea of a painting for a different reason. Now think of the book’s production and everything connected with it as being part of the same kind of creative activity, but in an arena where events as you think of them become the medium. It is as if—forgive the crossing analogies—the production of the book (pause) is transferred to another level. A living peoplescape in which each person who plays a part in that book’s production now joins the creative act at this secondary level as far as you are concerned.

Your reality, and the reality of those people, exists primarily in Framework 2. Already in Framework 2 decisions beyond number have occurred, computations beyond number have been made, resulting in this particular reference frame of probabilities existing at the time. In one way or another, there are connections uniting everyone involved in such processes. There are reasons beyond business that make the people at Prentice involved with books rather than, say, toy manufacturing, or other even more profitable ventures.

(9:19.) The artistic acts always directly involve strong direct interactions with Framework 2. In the production of our book we want, say, people we may not even know to come together in certain fashions to make certain decisions that will be in direct agreement with our own creative intent. They each have their own lives and their own interests and intents, their own problems. We cannot move them around like toy people on a game board. When you continue to think of events—and publishing is one—as multidimensional creativity, involving many people instead of one, then you have some leverage to help you understand. In Framework 2 each person is connected to each other person. I have given you a good deal of material explaining how information is communicated both on a cellular basis and on a mental one—how it is communicated through the dream state, and I have explained the importance of impulses as direct nudges from Framework 2.

(Pause.) This is still very difficult to verbalize. (Pause.) The main, driving, clear, emotional intent in such a project is the author’s. The book is his baby. Remember, we are dealing with emotional intensities—and it is because of emotional intensities that our books are in so many homes. That intensity has its own force and vitality.

(A note: I think Seth inserted his remark about the books being in so many homes because our mail has rather strikingly reminded us lately of that fact; we’ve been talking about it.)

Ideally that force is to a large extent self-protecting. It is also perceived to whatever degree possible (underlined) by all those at Prentice who are involved. At Framework-2 levels those people want to produce an excellent book. Their desire is not as vigorous as yours. It is watered down by far more Framework 1 activity. There is much “static” at that level.

Now: When you concentrate mainly (underlined) in Framework 1 and its communications with Prentice, then while overall you do achieve results of a beneficial nature—the publication and distribution of the books in a largely adequate form—there are glaring discrepancies also: entanglements that you do not like because you have taken your intent from Framework 2, where the creative event began, and placed it into Framework 1’s communication system almost entirely. Obviously you need Framework 1, with its letters, telephone calls, and so forth—but Framework 1’s communication system, while physically handy, also is somewhat like a very poor telephone connection, with static at both ends.

(9:38.) First of all, you clear your wires by trying to clear your mind, and simply by trying to understand how Framework 2 works. You think of, say, any event in a book’s production, distribution, translation or whatever, as the kind of multidimensional creative effort and event I have tried to explain. All of those other people are connected to that event in Framework 2 on a nonphysical level, as they are connected on a physical level. Framework 2’s communication system is at once simpler and more complex that Framework 1’s. Just as, say, your intent to paint a picture automatically has your fingers all moving in the proper directions, and your body manipulating properly, so that the desired painting results, so in a larger fashion your clear intent is communicated to each of the people involved—at a level without static—yours or theirs.

They do not then move as faithfully as your fingers, following your own intent, not theirs, but everyone involved cooperatively agrees to aid that creative venture—not only because you want it, you see, but because for their own reasons they are involved in book publishing and want to play a part in that kind of activity.

You set a far more favorable group of probabilities into motion, a group that aids you and them as well, for they are also seeking creativity from their separate viewpoints. They are also fighting their own static. You do not have to contact them one by one in Framework 2. The book itself is like a magnet—any book. The same kinds of reactions, however, are involved in all activities, and it is sometimes frustrating for me that you cannot perceive the fascinating facets of any event. All group interactions of course are involved here. (Pause.) You still —and I do not simply mean you two alone—do not feel the unsurpassable force that thoughts have. You do not understand that they do form events, that to change events you must first change thoughts. You get what you concentrate upon. To brood or worry, or become resentful, is as regrettable as it would be if you, say, painted a big X over one of your paintings because you were dissatisfied with a detail or two. Over a period of time, resentments X out large areas of otherwise productive experience.

(9:50.) Give us a moment.... When you have fearful thoughts about a book—or worse, about a future book—then you feed other people’s static. You increase to some extent their doubts as well as your own. Your thoughts have reality, but behind that statement is the apparently unrecognizable truth that your physical world is the exteriorization of your thoughts.

(Earlier in the month I’d grown so disgusted with the whole business that I’d resolved not to bother asking Seth for help—then before tonight’s session I’d spontaneously had the idea that I would ask if I got the chance. I reread daily many of the private sessions he’s given for us in the last year or two—especially those in Book 20. A number of those deal with my challenges involving the side, groin, taxes, and so forth. I seem to be a slow learner; either that or my accumulated resentments seem to be so deeply ingrained that I should work much harder at eradicating old beliefs.)

(“I reread them too.” In book 20.)