1 result for (book:ur2 AND session:725 AND stemmed:die)
[... 17 paragraphs ...]
(Long pause, eyes closed. Jane’s delivery had slowed considerably.) In somewhat the same way your identity changes constantly, even while you retain your sense of permanence. That sense of permanence rides upon endless changes — it is actually dependent upon those physical, spiritual, and psychic changes. In your terms, for example, if they did not occur constantly your body would die. The cells, again, are not simply minute, handy, unseen particles that happen to compose your organs. They also possess consciousnesses of their own. That [kind of] consciousness unites all physical matter.
[... 5 paragraphs ...]
A mountain exists. It is composed of rocks and trees, grass and hills, and in your terms of time you can look at it, see it as such, give it a name, and ignore its equally independent parts. Without those parts the mountain would not exist. It is not invaded by the trees or rocks that compose it, and while trees grow and die the mountain itself, at least in your terms of time, exists despite the changes. It is also dependent upon the changes. In a manner of speaking, your own identities as you think of them are dependent upon the same kinds of living organizations of consciousness.
[... 3 paragraphs ...]
Your thinking mind, as you consider it, is the top of your mountain. In certain terms you can see “more” than your cells can, though they are also conscious of their realities. Were it not for their lives you would not be at the top of your psychological mountain. Even the trees at the highest tip of the hillside send sturdy roots into the ground, and receive from it nourishment and vitality — and there is a great give-and-take between the smallest sapling in the foothills and the most ancient pine. No single blade of grass dies but that it affects the entire mountain. The energy within the grass sinks into the earth, and in your terms is again reborn. Trees, rocks, and grass constantly exchange places as energy changes form (very forcefully, leaning forward, eyes wide and dark).
[... 28 paragraphs ...]
The event could have been triggered by my internal perception of just a month ago, the day the 719th session was held. In Note 4 for that session I described how I’d seen myself as a very old man, and made a quick sketch of that vision; I added that the episode had in turn reminded me of observing my father as he lay dying in February 1971, at the age of 81. In the 719th session itself, Seth remarked that the interior view of myself represented “a ‘precognitive’ moment” in my present life that (obviously!) I have yet to encounter.
[... 35 paragraphs ...]