“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

(That concentration upon places to live reminded us of families, of course — “regular” families as well as Seth’s families of consciousness. While I drove us back to our apartment house for supper we discussed the incredibly complicated roles and events surrounding those different kinds of organizations — whereupon Jane came up with a most apt phrase: “The genealogy of events….” She laughed, then added: “As families of people have their genealogies, so do families of events.”⁴

The Sumari characteristics do not exist in isolation, of course. To one extent or another, each family of consciousness carries within it the characteristics inherent in all of the families. There is, therefore, great diversity.

An apple can be red, round, weigh so much, be good to eat, sit in a basket, but be natural on a tree. It can be tart or sweet. You can find one on the ground, or on a table, or in a pie. None of these things are contradictory to the nature of an apple. You do not ask: “How can an apple have color and be round at the same time?”

(9:40.) So far, you do not hold your consciousness in your hand, however. When I speak of the behavior of your psyche, then, you may wonder: “How can my psyche exist in more than one time at once?” It can do this just as an apple can be found on a table or on the ground or on the tree.

To some degree you feel the same way when you encounter the concept of probable selves, or of counterparts. It is as though you had an unlimited bank of abilities and characteristics from which to draw, and yet were afraid of doing so — fearing that any addition could make you less instead of more. If all of this goes on personally, as you choose one melody and call it yourself, then perhaps you can begin to see the mass creative aspects in terms of civilizations that seem to rise and fall.

Now imagine a composition in which the pauses and the silences that you do not hear are sounded — and the notes that you hear are instead the unheard inner structure.

In the last few sentences there is an intuitive “definition” of probable and reincarnational selves, and counterparts, in relationship to the self that you know. In your case, however, you can change your own pacing, add variations, or even begin an entirely new composition if you choose to. Now many people have done this in very simple, mundane ways by suddenly deciding to use abilities they had earlier ignored. A man of letters, for instance, at the age of 40 suddenly remembers his old love of carpentry, reads do-it-yourself manuals, and begins his own home repairs. After disdaining such activities as beneath him for years, he suddenly discovers an intimate relationship with earth and its goods, and this appreciation adds to words that before may have been as dry as ash.

Give us a moment … Do you want to rest your hand?

Tasting those qualities to the utmost, from that framework the psyche probes the fires of vitality and being as experienced from that specific viewpoint, and the despondency can be more alive than an unprobed, barely experienced joy. In the same manner, certain individuals can and do choose life experiences that involve great tragedies. Yet those tragic lives are used as a focus point that actually brings into experience, through comparison, the great vitality and thrust of being.

To some extent you can actualize portions of your own unknown reality, and draw them into the experienced area of your life. There is an obvious relationship between one note and another in a musical composition. Now in terms of physical families and in larger terms of countries, there is a relationship between realities, which constantly change as the notes do. To some extent your reality is picked up by your contemporaries. They accept it or not according to the particular theme or focus of their lives.

(12:01 A.M. The ending was quick. Jane’s trances and deliveries had been excellent — strong and vital. “Seth’s going into historical probabilities in the next session,” she said. “I could go into that stuff right now, I feel so good. I could do it for another hour without any hassle. There’s a lot there on national counterparts, too.”¹² Then while I wrote this note she proceeded to tell me more about what Seth had in mind.

(I knew that if I encouraged her she’d go back into the session. I was tempted, but it was after midnight; we had ESP class coming up in 19 hours, with much to do in the meantime. And my writing hand was getting tired.

“Give us a moment … Do not buy a house with a dirt cellar. Do not buy a house heated by oil. The fumes are not good. A house facing the east is good in your section of the country. Use your psychic abilities to ascertain the house’s atmosphere, by all means — and no matter how fine it seems, do not buy it if you do not feel comfortable inside. It should have a fireplace because of the reminders of the hearth. It should not be sided with aluminum or other metal. In your area it should not face the south. This also has to do with the ways you use energy, so these are not general precepts for others to follow. Check with your pendulums.

“Even in the country, houses can have a closed quality if the mountains or trees press too tightly. The land that you own is important, but the visible land that you do not own is also, and you should be in sight of a mountain or some open area, while still having a private ‘secret’ area also.”

5. In very gentle ways, Jane did eventually use some of Seth’s impressions relative to both people — but cast in her own vernacular — for Chapter 18 of Politics. In that chapter she also began presenting, again from her viewpoint, material on our house-hunting activities; she plans to continue doing so in subsequent chapters.

And in a note for that session I wrote: “Years ago, when Jane and I began living in Sayre, Pennsylvania, not long after our marriage in 1954, I began telling myself that before I reached the age of 40 I’d know whether I wanted to concentrate upon writing or painting — but that if I’d failed to do so before that date, I would then decide upon one or the other of those creative arts. I turned 40 in 1959 — and chose painting.”

(I should add that those reasons do not involve any particular unwillingness on Seth’s part to do this, nor is it that those data we want may have evaporated beyond his recall.)