3 results for (book:ur2 AND session:724 AND stemmed:but)
Now remember: You are one earth version of your own greater personage. You are utterly yourself. That greater identity, however, is intrinsically your own, but is the part that cannot be physically expressed. Your experiences are your own. Through you they become a part of the experience of the greater identity, but its reality also “originally” gave you your physical existence, as you gave your children physical life. Your children are not you, yet once they were contained within the mother’s womb. Yet they did not originate from the womb either, but from the seed and the egg.
(Pause.) You are always at the center of your life. Again, your being as you understand it is never annihilated, but continues to develop its own existence in other ways. A portion of you has lived many lives upon this planet, but the “you” that you know is freshly here, and will never again encounter space and time in precisely the same way. The same applies to each life lived either before or after. Biologically you rest upon a heritage, however, and psychically the same applies. The soul, or this greater personage, does not simply send out an old self in new clothes time and time again (humorously), but each time a new, freshly-minted self that then develops and goes its own way. (With much emphasis:) That self rides firmly, however, in the great flight of experience, and feels within itself all of those other fully unique versions that also fling their way into existence.
(“I’m getting all this stuff,” Jane said at 9:43, as we waited for Seth to come through, “but I can’t verbalize it yet. It’s like concepts that I have to unscramble. It’s sort of frustrating … Strange … I’m getting images, too, but not clearly. One of them is about a world theater, made up of a particular century. I think we’re going to get some great new material.
The people alive during any century are embarked upon certain overall challenges. These are the result of private challenges that can best be worked out within a certain kind of framework. Time as you understand it is utilized as a method of focus, a divider like a room divider, separating purposes instead of furniture. If you want a “Victorian room,” you do not plank it down in the middle of a Spanish arrangement. Instead, you set it aside and frame it with its own decor, as you might in a museum that has separate rooms designating life in past centuries. The rooms in the museum exist at once. You may have to walk down a long corridor, go in a particular room and out the same door, before you can get to the next, adjoining room. The 18th-century drawing room may be next to a 12th-century chapel in this hypothetical museum, but you cannot move through one to the other. You have to go into the corridor first.
(Fortunately, class member Sue Watkins managed to tape all but the first few paragraphs of the session, but even the sense of those was taken down in longhand by another student while Sue got our recorder going. [...]
[...] This unexpected kind of session rarely develops these days, but, as Jane said later, the subjects under discussion were “emotionally charged” for her — and for others present, too, I might add. [...]
(Warren: “But isn’t this stuff all about the development of ego consciousness?”)
[...] “I wasn’t referring to regular history,” he said, “but to esoteric history —”
[...] The little adventure certainly fits in with Seth’s idea of counterparts, as he introduced it in the 721st session, but it raises a number of questions, too. Jane discussed my previous “visits” to the first century in Chapter 4 of her Psychic Politics, but [I can add later] she never did deal with this one. [...]
[...] I feel (as Seth mentioned in the 721st session) that I wasn’t Nebene, or two different Roman soldiers per se, but rather that my whole self chose to manifest such personalities together; that I, too, am such a manifestation at a “later” time, then, and that from my own vantage point I can tune in to those other lives. But I question, at least provisionally, any idea of past or counterpart lives that I lived one hundred percent. [...]
[...] I didn’t know, for they not only rearoused old questions, but brought up some new ones.
[...] I don’t know whether or not the city had a wall surrounding it earlier in that century, but assume it did.3