“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.

[...] (The whole series has taken much longer than I expected it to, though.) I only know that Jane began to sing in very melodious tones that flowed through the house. [...]

[...] My voice may not be melodious but I am of a sweet disposition. [...]

 The meaning will become apparent as you become aware of the melodies and vocalize them for yourselves. [...]

[...] I knew many of the melodies, but few words or titles. [...]

[...] I do admit my voice, as it came through here, may not be as melodious. [...]

[...] In case you are curious, in your particular case there is a relaxation of the nervous system that occurs, but not because of my melodious tones, I will note, but indeed my voice can travel as far as the onions [sic!]. [...]

[...] They weren’t loud but very melodious and softly syllabled. [...]

[...] You are tuned in to an earth song, following this analogy, but you are only following your own melody, and usually you are unaware of the greater orchestration in which you also take part.

[...] The session has been long enough this evening however, but know I am here whether or not you hear—my pun—my melodious voice. [...]

(All with a rolling intensity:) I must of necessity tell this story in serial terms, but the world and all of its creatures actually come together like some spontaneously composed, ever-playing musical composition in which the notes themselves are alive and play themselves, so that the musicians and the notes are one and the same, the purpose and the performance being one, with each note played continuing to strike all of its own probable versions, forming all of its own probable compositions while at the same time taking part in all of the themes, melodies, and notes of the other compositions—so that each note, striking, defines itself, and yet also exists by virtue of its position in the composition as a whole.

(9:58.) A recent article in a national magazine speaks “glowingly” about the latest direction of progress in the field of psychology, saying that man will realize that his moods, thoughts, and feelings are the result of the melody of chemicals that swirl in his brain. [...]

—my springtime robins, though you are not as plump as springtime robins, nor is your chirrup quite as melodious. [...]

They are more melodious than I am.

[...] It may not be a melodious, but it made the point I hope. [...]

[...] It must be that this voice is not that melodious. [...]

[...] Your voice is too sensitive and rough this evening for me to attempt any transformation of it into the more melodious accents of my own.

(Words lost) you experience—as you listen to my melodious tones and look upon my godly countenance, it is not myself. [...]

[...] Your voice is too sensitive this evening for me to attempt any transformation of it into the more ‘melodious’ accents of my own. [...]