“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

Tonight, during a pleasant supper time, our friends Ruburt and Joseph watched a television production based upon the Cinderella fairy tale. According to the definition I gave earlier, this fairy tale is a myth. Surely it may seem that such a children’s tale has little to do with any serious adult discussion concerning anything so profound as the creation of the known world. And most certainly, it may appear, no scientifically pertinent data about the nature of events can possibly be uncovered from such a source.

For one thing, [the] Cinderella [tale] has a happy ending, of course, and is therefore highly unrealistic (with irony), according to many educators, since it does not properly prepare children for life’s necessary disappointments. Fairy godmothers are definitely a thing of the storyteller’s imagination, and many serious, earnest adults will tell you that daydreaming or wishing will get you nowhere.

In the Cinderella story, however, the heroine, though poor and of low estate, manages to attain a fulfilling and seemingly impossible goal. Her desire to attend a spectacular ball, and meet the prince, initiates a series of magical events, none following the dictates of logic. The fairy godmother, suddenly appearing, uses the normal objects of everyday life so that they are suddenly transformed, and we have a chariot¹ from a pumpkin, and other transformations of a like nature.

The tale has always appealed to children because they recognize the validity behind it.² The fairy godmother is a creative personification of the personalized elements in Framework 2 — a personification therefore of the inner ego, that rises to the aid of the mortal self to grant its desires, even when the intents of the mortal self may not seem to fit into the practical framework of normal life. When the inner ego responds in such a fashion, even the commonplace, ordinary, seemingly innocuous circumstances suddenly become charged with a new vitality, and appear to “work for” the individual involved. If you are reading this book you are already too old to clearly remember the constant fantasies of your early childhood. Children however know quite well, automatically, that they have a strong hand in the creation of the events that then seem to happen to them.

[...] Fairy tales are indeed often—though not always—carriers of a kind of underground knowledge, as per your discussion about Cinderella (also see the 824th session for Mass Events), and the greatest fairy tales are always those in which the greatest expectations win out: The elements of the physical world that are unfortunate can be changed in the twinkling of an eye through great expectations.

[...] This includes stories of fairies and giants, for example. [...]

[...] Children’s fairy tales still carry some of that ancient knowledge.

[...] I believe there are ancient fairy tales and myths still surviving that speak of these underworlds, or worlds of darkness — but they do not mean worlds of death, as is usually interpreted.

Current ideas of reality are like children’s fairy tales. [...]

[...] But had I not inserted these little sessions with emotion, and they are, indeed, fairy tales, then there would have been no chance for any joint ventures such as those that I have in mind and have had in mind for some time. [...]

At about the same time many intelligent persons were realizing that organized religions’ ideas of God, and of heaven and hell, were distorted, unjust, and smacked of children’s fairy tales. [...]