Session 97

SESSION 97 OCTOBER 14, 1964 9 PM WEDNESDAY AS SCHEDULED em>(At 8:55 this evening Jane had no idea of what Seth would talk about for the session. She did not feel good, however, and I was half-prepared for a short session or perhaps none at all.

(I thought she might be unhappy about a letter she received last Monday from the Macmillan Co. of NY, in which they stated that they liked her book of poetry, The Fence, very much, but could not publish it due to their restricted list of poetry, having abandoned for the time being their projected series of paperback poetry books. The fact that Macmillan stated they thought another publisher would take on The Fence, had not, I thought, particularly cheered Jane, at least at the moment.

(She began dictation on time, again without her glasses. Her voice was but a little stronger than normal, her pacing regular, her eyes dark as usual. Her delivery in the beginning was rather slow and interspersed with pauses, but after a page or so it began to pick up speed, until she had me writing at a pretty good rate. At the same time Jane’s pacing also picked up speed.)

Good evening.

(“Good evening, Seth.”)

Ruburt’s indisposition is the result of a rather uncalled-for sense of panic.

Were he not so honestly and unfortunately ill-disposed, the affair would be highly ludicrous. Last week he began and finished an excellent short story, and finished an outline, as well as holding our sessions, and beginning once more his psychological time experiments.

Monday he also worked, and the following day he did not immediately begin another story. And here we see his translation of this rather natural occurrence into tragic forebodings. No idea. And this further of course projected: no idea tomorrow, and a succession of days. But to hide from himself the dire imagined sequence he must have an excuse.

He is ill-disposed, and quite honestly so. Therefore he covers himself. If he does not get an idea tomorrow he has the excuse, anticipated, of being ill, and this also serves as a punishment. He will punish himself on any day that he does not put in his allotted hours in what he considers a constructive manner.

And incidentally, necessary business concerning the sending out of manuscripts, he does not subconsciously consider, should be considered part of his writing day.

Consciously he knows better. I will not put our session off this evening, though I may shorten it. He will learn shortly, and without any real difficulty, that while his new schedule will be, as it should be, followed with discipline, nevertheless he cannot expect a new idea every day.

It is ridiculous for him to so punish himself, and does not help matters, as his joyous spontaneity is so important in his working habits.

I would like to comment on a remark made earlier by yourself, Joseph. I find it most refreshing, rather drastic, however.

(Here Jane laughed, then took a long pause as she paced about the room. The remark of mine to be discussed was one I had made around supper time, and I was now rather surprised to see it crop up in the material.)

You spoke about this plane, mentioning I believe the possibility that the plane had some specified but unknown end, after which the cycle began anew, with of course new personalities participating.

You were indeed partially correct. However, even I pale at the idea of a specified—and that would be predetermined—end to your universe as you know it.

This would imply that despite the development of the inhabitants their world would end at a particular point, and this is not the case. However, your universe has had, and will continue to have, such cycles, but there is no predetermined end in those terms.

This is an extremely difficult subject. Certainly areas of the physical universe change form, are disassembled and reappear in other forms. This follows certain laws inherent in the field of nature as far as matter is concerned. Beyond this however, your idea would result in an end to your plane that was unavoidable. There are cycles, but they are brought about individually and en masse by the personalities active on your plane.

Probable universes are by their very nature existing universes. You mentioned that when and if you become an entity, and send forth personalities, that they would gain existence in the first periods of another such cycle; in another newer, say, fourth or fifth century.

You forget that in the spacious present you already are not only what you will be, but what you have been. Therefore, such personalities that you would project are already projected, and only the veil of unawareness divides you, as only the veil of unawareness ever separates one field or plane from another.

I suggest your break.

(Break at 9:29. Jane was dissociated as usual. Upon resting she put her glasses on. She reported that she felt all right while delivering the material, and also that she felt a little better now. She resumed in the same voice but at a little faster pace at 9:35.)

Concerning our friend Ruburt, another note. And that is that there is also a quite valid inner sense of guilt here, in that he has neglected his poetry.

At least an hour a day should be devoted to it. He was utterly and completely surprised upon learning that Macmillan had nearly accepted his book of poetry. He never expected any financial rewards from poetry, and it occurred to him that in his recent neglect of it he may have been cheating himself in more ways than one.

Because of his rather intense mental work, I would suggest walks and other physical activities. Small social relationships on an informal basis will be practical. They will prevent too much inner involvement, open new doors, bring psychic refreshment, and also provide our hungry friend with his diet of new ideas. As indeed his latest story was initiated by a remark made by a neighbor.

Rather frequent informal relationships are more practical than occasional formal ones, and Ruburt is already involving himself, again, in the satisfying for him diversified household chores, which are also a break from strict mental work. Even in winter time I will suggest he take walks, and these should be for pure enjoyment. Hammering at his subconscious as he does on his few walks negates their purpose. Too much of a good thing. After all, his subconscious would like some rest too. He is such a hammerhead in this respect.

We should have a balance here, and he must allow room for spontaneity. He remembers his early lack of discipline in working matters, but he is well disciplined now. On session nights particularly his working day is elongated, and regardless of my efforts there is some physical and mental strain involved, though these are greatly minimized.

His subconscious will provide all the spontaneous ideas that he needs for his own work, but he cannot sit it in a corner, lecture it, and demand very definite specific tasks. His subconscious knows better than he does consciously what particular means should be used to gain a desired end. It does not need minute by minute instructions.

I would not take up session time for this material except that my suggestions, if followed, will be most helpful. Also to him a note: even his adolescent, seemingly-undisciplined times were disciplined, giving notice of continuing ego strength, balanced and sometimes over-balanced by intuitional development, in that he never ceased writing from the day that he began.

He is face to face with himself, with his abilities, ambitions and limitations, now, with a whole day more or less to work toward his goal, and he feels great urgency. This is fine, a driving force, but his strength comes from among other things his very personal involvement with nature, and from his contemplation of it. Time devoted to what appears aimless thought and speculation will also bear its fruits.

I would have thought that any advice to Ruburt would have involved suggestions curtailing his robust and ever curious intuitional abilities, but he is holding them down with too heavy a hand. He so feared that he lacked discipline that he becomes too stern a keeper of his own inner fires.

I will close this part of our discussion, and suggest your break.

(Break at 10:00. Jane was dissociated as usual. She said she now feels quite a bit better. Her pace had speeded up and my writing hand was feeling it. She resumed in the same faster manner, although still with occasional pauses, at 10:07.)

We have not yet finished our consideration of the nature of dreams, which will be given more or less in bulk.

Dream interpretation will be an occasional but continuing proposition, and the general discussion of dreams will then serve as a guidepost.

The dream world is indeed a natural by-product of the relationship of the inner self and the physical being. Not a reflection, therefore, but a by-product involving not only a chemical reaction but the transformation of energy from one state to another.

In some respects all planes or fields of existence are indeed by-products of others. For example, without the peculiar spark set off through the interrelationship existing between the inner self and the physical being, the dream world would not exist. But conversely, the dream world is a necessity for the continued existence of the physical individual.

This point is extremely important. As you know, animals dream. What you do not know is that all consciousnesses dream. We have said that to some degree even atoms and molecules have consciousness, and this minute consciousness nevertheless forms its own dreams, even as on the other hand it forms its own physical image.

Now, as in the physical field atoms combine for their own benefit and individually into more complicated structure gestalts, so do they also combine to form such gestalts, though of a somewhat different nature, in the dream world.

I have said that the dream world has its own sort of form and permanence. It is physically oriented, though not to the degree inherent in your ordinary universe. In the same manner that the physical image is built up of an individual, so is the dream image built up. You can refer to our previous discussion on matter if it will help you here, but the dream world is not a formless, haphazard, semi-construction.

It does not exist in bulk, but it does exist in form. This is not a contradiction nor a distortion. The true complexity and importance of the dream world as an independent field of existence has not yet been impressed upon you. Yet while your world and the dream world are basically independent, they still exert pressures and influences, one upon the other.

I will expand this discussion because an understanding of the dream world will bring you closer to understanding other fields of existence with which you are not so familiar.

I will shortly end this evening’s session, so with your permission there will be no break.

(Jane looked at me for confirmation as she paced about the room, and I nodded. It was 10:28.)

It is important that you realize that the dream world is a by-product of your own existence. And because it is connected to you through chemical reactions this leaves open the entryway of interactions, in animals as well as men. Since dreams are a by-product of any consciousness involved with matter, this leads us to the correct conclusion—that trees have their dreams, that all physical matter, being formed about individualized units of consciousness of varying degrees, also participates in the involuntary construction of the dream universe.

I will here end our session, and am pleased to note that Ruburt feels much better. Had I put off the session he would have felt worse by far, feeling guilty. Now my two pigeons, good night from your crusty friend. We are all in the same pie together, save that I am the baker and the crust both. Some recipe.

(“Good night, Seth.”(End at 10:38. Jane was dissociated as usual. She now felt much better; so much so that her last delivery was quite animated and cheerful.)

————————————————————— em>(These notes are taken verbatim from Jane’s notebook, listing her recent experiments with psychological time:

(October 8, 1964, Thursday, 11 AM: Fleeting images; couldn’t retain them.

(October 12, Monday, 3:30 PM: Elusive hallucinatory-type voices, unclear.

(October 13, Tuesday, 11:15 AM: Fleeting, forgotten images. As I first lay down, heard noise outside. Feeling struck me forcibly that it was caused by Marian Spaziani our landlady). Definite feeling, not a hunch, so strong I waited for her knock, which didn’t come. Thought I was mistaken. At noon someone in hall. It was Jimmy, Marian’s husband. He had been working around the house for some time.

(October 14, Wednesday, 11:15 AM: No results.

(October 15, Thursday, 11:15 AM: Definite results. Eyes closed tightly but I saw a flood of light, same quality as daylight. In it, as on a ceiling) a domed light fixture, unlike any here. So definite, vivid and unmistakable that I thought my eyes must be open—but they were not. Then it just vanished. I opened my eyes—definitely had not seen the light fixture in room, it was entirely different.

(October 16, Friday: Didn’t try Psy-time, but lay down on bed for a nap, being tired. Exactly the same thing happened as yesterday, except that this time I saw a different light fixture, off to the left of my inner vision. Again, it was so clear I was almost sure eyes must be open, but they were closed. Again, fixture bore no resemblance to any in room.

(October 19, Monday, 11:15 AM: No results, except feeling of being light.

(October 19 also: Closed eyes, tired from reading. Saw clearly but briefly a red jewel, maybe pin, on a floor rather a distance off. Heard voices discussing the object. They may have wondered where it was. I snapped to, too, but don’t remember what I said—sure that I wasn’t speaking aloud. I heard my voice as I “heard” the others.

(October 20, Tuesday, 11:15 AM: No results.)