“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

(9:45.) Give us a moment … A young man was here last evening. He possesses great mastery of the guitar. As he played, it was obvious that any given composition “grew” from the first note, and had always been latent within it. An infinite number of other “alternate” compositions were also latent within the same note, however, but were not played last night. They were quite as legitimate as the compositions that were played. They were, in fact, inaudibly a part of each heard melody, and those unheard variations added silent structure and pacing to the physically actualized music.

Following this analogy, in the same way each psyche contains within it infinite notes, and each note is capable of its own endless creative variations. You follow one melody of yourself, and for some reason you seem to think that the true, full orchestra of yourself will somehow drown you out (intently).

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.

So you look back through the historical past. All of the counterparts alive as contemporaries then form, together, a musical composition in what you think of as a present; and once that multidimensional song is struck then its past ripples out behind it, so to speak, and its future sings “ahead.” But the song is being created from its beginning and its end simultaneously. In this case, however, it is as if each note has its own consciousness and is free to change its portion of the melody. Yet all are in the same overall composition, in “time,” so that time itself serves as the scale (gesturing) in which the [musical] number is written — chosen as a matter of organization, focus, and framework.

Each portion, by whatever name, contains within it the latent potentials of the whole. If the unknown reality exists, it is because you play one melody over and over and so identify yourself, while closing out, consciously at least, all of the other possible variations that you could add to that tune.

(Still in the same intense manner:) This does not mean that a tragic life is more vital than a happy, simple one. It just means that each individual is involved in an art of living. There are different themes, instruments, melodies — but existence, like great art, cannot be confined to simple definitions.

He picks, or she picks, victims as intuitively as the victim seeks out the slayer. On the other hand, Mary’s experiences in life may make her change her mind, so to speak, so that at 17 she encounters a severe illness instead, from which she victoriously recovers. Or she might narrowly miss being murdered when a bullet from the killer’s gun hits the person next to her. On an entirely different level and in a different way, she might have no such experiences but be a writer of murder mysteries, or a nurse in surgery. The particular variations that one person might play are endless. You cannot consciously begin to alter the framework of your life, however, unless you realize first of all that you form it. The melody is your own. It is not inevitable, nor is it the only tune that you can play.