“The physical reality is a fallacy, not because it is invalid, but because it is temporal in nature. You shift between different filters of consciousness as effortlessly as you breathe in air and exhale into a world that seamlessly unfolds around you, permanent and unobscured by your ever changing moods or thought patterns, so you believe. But those patterns are reflected in the changing weather systems that colour your environment in very distinct and significant ways. Your inner weather patterns conform to the outer in the most intimate of ways. The sense of permanence and solidity that your physical outer world has is an illusion, based upon the strength and conviction of your beliefs. Gravity is a state of mind, and your mind, like your concept of gravity is all pervasive, and just as fluid.”
I always wondered what Jane Roberts meant throughout the many Seth books when she would talk about material always being just there, always available. I wondered what level of conscious awareness she’d reached in order to be so open to it. I remember doubting that I would ever know what that was like, yet thinking it would be very cool if I too could channel endless reams of insightful, potentially life changing material. The Seth books changed my life, in a most fundamental way. By the time I was introduced to them in my late teens, I had already reached a number of important conclusions about the nature of my reality. I already firmly believed that if you could conceive of something, anything within your imagination, then it was possible. It wasn’t a theory to me, it was a realisation of astounding clarity. My premise being that why else would we have the capacity to imagine what we did if it wasn’t already within our very physical genetic make-up to action it?
If you consider the physical body to be a machine of sorts, then that machine is capable of performing whatever tasks it was designed to do. Unlike most machines however, the human body does not come with a user manual. People have tried to write such things, but invariably fail due to much lack of insight. We can only know what we are willing to believe. We still know so very little about how and why the human body works in the way that it does, and why there are huge gaps in our understanding of it. Part of our lack of comprehension is to do with the way that we currently rationalise the physical world. We here in the West are overly concerned with what can be measured with physical tools, and what we can then perceive through our physical senses, to the exclusion of everything else. Yet, the machine that our body is, is capable of much more than we are able to measure currently, and I dare say we will ever be able to measure using physical tools alone.
We are more than capable of accessing precise information without the aid of any physical tools, through using the really quite spectacular machine that our body is, and trusting that the user manual comes already installed. How do we find it?
We trust that we already know whatever it is we are seeking to know. I hear some of you ask: “Yes, but isn’t that cheating?”
To which my response is: “Really?!”
Does it negate the need to learn?
Sort of, yes. However, that depends on your understanding of what the learning process is exactly. Is it a process of making dumb, clever? Or is it a way of experiencing and exploring life?
Of course this might raise the issue that if the information being learned is not really the goal, then why do we pursue this process at all?
Good point. Have a think about it and let me know what you come up with…
We trust that what our instincts tell us is pertinent, and important. Those hunches we get, that’s our instinct talking to us, it’s a ‘gut feeling’. Listen to your gut then, and either feed it with food, or with your attention, and then pay attention to the words, feelings, or images that spring to mind as you focus your awareness on that instinctive feeling.
Over twenty years later, and I understand quite clearly what Jane Roberts meant, it’s just that it took me a while to trust my own instinct, and trust that any and all information was readily accessible through the auspices of my own mind. The implications of that I still find mind-boggling and thrilling. I already believed this as a child, but having become caught up in the throes of convention I was made to believe that my assertions were simple childish fantasy and arrogance. But instead of just trusting that I knew what I knew, I erred on the side of caution in an effort to ‘fit in’, and then spent years attempting to validate that I had been right all along. You can imagine then when I began reading the Seth books that suddenly all of those supposedly naive and crazy notions I had harboured were not only acknowledged, but explained in great depth, much to my own jaw-dropping surprise. Especially as Jane Roberts had been channelling Seth since before I was born. She had already passed away by the time I was just 11 years old, and still quite unaware that there was even such a thing as metaphysics.
The Seth books had been republished and reached the height of popularity again during the new wave of alternative literature that flooded the market during the early 1990s, just when I was reaching adulthood and my appetite for knowledge couldn’t be sated quickly enough. For those of you who haven’t read the books, much less even heard of the entity named Seth, then I recommend them highly. Still the best books I have ever invested my time, effort and money in.
I read a lot, and across a very wide range of subjects, hunting for obscure out of print books where I could in search of validation of what I knew instinctively, and to be able to say that I had left no stone unturned in my evaluations. Ever the scientist I suppose, a reflection of the world I have grown up in.
If all my years of learning have merely led me back to where I began, then what was the point of it all I have often asked myself?
Well, I am now able to have some really interesting after-dinner conversations, I suppose. Indeed I have also gained the wherewithal to write about what I know, and perhaps in some way develop a level of confidence that I was robbed of by the most pedantic and short-sighted culture within which I have lived my life thus far.
Science makes one cynical.